My Little Ponies ate my weekend

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Meant to post about this last night, but my wee brain was still awhirl with singing horses.

I took my little one to see My Little Pony Live yesterday. For those of you without three-year-old girls living in your households, I refer to a Hasbro brand involving pastel-colored, talking equines with long-lashed manga eyes. There are picture books and videos and small plastic dolls with cotton-candy manes. The story lines are beyond stupid, the dialogue unspeakable, the songs something other than music. For three-year-old little girls, My Little Ponies are like lollipops made of crack.

mylittlepony.jpg
This creature appears in my dreams. / HASBRO

And so I found myself in $35 seats at the WaMu Theater in Madison Square Garden yesterday, watching 90 minutes of stultifying trash having something to do with a pony tea party. But you know what occurred to me? This doody production is, for some hard-working person, a gig. It’s a job. Just look at the hundreds of idiot parents like me, willing to shell out for tickets and pennants and stuffed-pony dolls. That equals work for stage hands, voice actors, script writers, dancing ladybugs. Why shouldn’t they take advantage of our desperate attempts to buy our children’s happiness?

I’d post the YouTube video I found but I’m pretty sure it’s taken illegally. So click here for the Hasbro ad and share my horror.

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