"Then of course there is Disneyworld itself. The great American oasis of sameness. I wonder how archaeologists will interpret Disneyworld thousands of years from now--as a religious shirne, I imagine, and quite accurately. Disney tunes leak out of the bushes here, and make me jump. The employees are instructed to be nice to guests, to inquire first as to their well-being, no matter what: even the guys repairing ductwork in the hallways of the hotel, having covered endless runways of carpet with RugWrap, an impermeable dirt-stopping Saran Wrap, halt all work and say "Hi there! How are you doing today?" as Walker and I cruise by on a hall stroll. It makes me long for some scrofulous shitsack to tell me to drop dead, just to bring me back to reality."