It’s been years since I last saw a certain children’s film in its entirety. You know the one: A
scrappy, young man runs around the streets of a fictional Middle Eastern kingdom and steals a bunch
of shit—mostly for survival, but you know he loves it—and eventually finds himself romantically
involved with a Princess.
She wears silk pants and they’re teal!
Actually, her whole wardrobe is teal, isn’t it?
Or is it sea foam green?
She’s obviously spoiled.
Do you know how hard/expensive it was to make dye in the fictional Middle East back then?
Said Princess is sick of being worshipped as a sex icon—by both the entire kingdom and her
oddly Caucasian father—and takes to the streets to get some strange. You know, we’ve all been there:
Daddy or Mommy spends a bit too much money on you, tries to keep you cooped up in a magnificent
tower, and you decide to spit in his face by catching a sexually transmitted disease that hasn’t even
been named yet—typical children’s story.
The two run into each other and go on some stealing rampage that leaves them cornered by a group of rent-a-cops. They get away when the Princess pulls this surprise reveal—Gasp!—the girl in the teal garb was the Princess all along! She disappears with the guards and our Thief is distraught and alone; he wants nothing more than to be with this girl.
The moral of the story is—in the end—be yourself. Isn’t it always? Unfortunately, our adorable
and morally-stretched street thief doesn’t know this life lesson yet. Instead, he tries to figure out a way
to impress this Princess by becoming something he’s not: a prince.
An old Sorcerer that is seemingly interested in the Princess himself—personally, I think he
might be asexual or into bestiality—slithers his way into our plot and tells our soon-to-be Prince
exactly how to become what he wants. The grandiose solution? A magic fucking lamp.
Fast forward to the desert. Yes, our Thief has followed an old, disguised man that might want to
get into those teal slacks—maybe just to see how they feel on his legs—into the fucking desert. They
now stand in front of the towering head of a feline.
Ah! The Cave of Wonders!
This cat head, made of stone, begins babbling about a bunch of things. I think this is where the
duo finally discover what kind of videos that cats would put on YouTube if they could. According to
the Sorcerer, the magic lamp—and the Thief’s future with the Princess—are hidden deep within this
huge-ass cat head.
Without as much as a second thought, the Thief dives in. Forgive my memory, but I think the
Sorcerer might shove his ass in there? Irrelevant.
Eventually, our young and naïve friend realizes he is surrounded by an indescribable amount of treasure. It’s all gold and rubies and fine silverware—normal treasure lying in the throat/bowels of a giant cat head way the fuck out in the desert. Long story short, he can’t touch any of these exorbitant treasures and he doesn’t because he wants this magic lamp and the Princess. He finds it, grabs it, then his monkey fucks the whole thing up and tries to swipe a giant ruby that’s in the hands of some monkey statue. The whole place goes to shit at this point, Indiana Jones-style.
Damn! I almost forgot! There’s a magical rug, too. I think it’s stuck under something. Who knows what? It’s probably some diamond the size of an elephant’s ass. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.
So, the place has just begun to shart all over the Thief, his greedy fucking monkey, and his new
carpet that he plans on rolling out underneath his cardboard box when he returns home. They fly out,
dodging exploding treasure and hot lava throughout the whole sequence, somehow manage to survive
the endeavor, and then discover that there’s a genie inside of the lamp.
Voiced by one of the hairiest celebrities I can think of—that’s what made him so great as Mrs.
Doubtfire—this Genie appears after rubbing the lamp for a quick second and then comes bursting out
of the tip like a garden hose that’s been kinked by an evil, little 8-year-old. After his arrival—which is
filled with all sorts of pomp and circumstance—this Genie says that he’ll grant our thieving friend any
three wishes he wants besides the Big Three that we all want more than anything else: sex, drugs, and
rock and roll. What good are you, Genie?
To the point!
The Cave of Wonders is a metaphor for the vagina.
First and foremost, it is an enormous cat. Both the Sorcerer and the Thief are tempted to go in
but only one male enters at a time—typical behavior for the standard female sexual organ. Sometimes,
other males push their friends and/or foes into vaginas they don’t want to be in; that’s just the way it
He is then wholly and instantly swallowed.
Why does the Thief willingly enter? He thinks that there’s a way for him to get whatever he
wants inside this place.
Untold riches abound around each and every corner, in all nooks and crannies, yet he goes for
the one thing that matters: a tiny lamp that needs to be rubbed.
And when he rubs that lamp—Oh! When he rubs that lamp!—that’s when the magic begins. It’s
not until after he exits—on a fucking carpet, of all things—that the lamp gets that good, old-fashioned
rubdown it’s seemingly been wanting for so long.
This is only after the monkey goes bat shit and steals a red ruby that locks the enormous vagina
metaphor and all of its treasures away forever and forever—or at least for a few days.
That was a period reference.
If you disagree with me, that’s fine. I’ve already sold myself on my own conspiracy theory. Do I
believe that it was planned? Hell yes.
That cryogenically-frozen anti-Semite would do anything to subliminally undermine approximately half of the human race. If it means putting sexual-organ metaphors into his films, that’s certainly what he would do. In case you haven’t heard, he’s the reason that people think that lemmings commit suicide in droves. Look it up—that shit’s a lie.