And thank god, because cartoons are the only thing I understand.
Benjamin Bunny, after spending years of his life getting his cousin Peter Rabbit into trouble with the law, marries his other cousin, Flopsy. That’s problem numero uno– if your slutty cousin is the only person willing to marry you, maybe you should do some healthy self-reflection. So he and Flopsy pop out about 12 little kids they can’t support. And instead of Benjamin going out and getting a fucking job, he hustles food from his cousin Peter. (Do you feel like Peter sometimes, with the deadbeat cousin always trying to take your shit and drag you into their drama? umm-hmm). And when Peter only has enough to feed his own goddamn family, Benjamin takes his hoard of kids to the garbage dump. To eat. He takes his fucking kids to eat garbage… at the dump.
If you’re wondering at this point about how the cycle of poverty works, read that last paragraph again. If you don’t teach your kids how to earn a living, and that they’re only important enough for free handouts and garbage, then that is what they’ll believe, and all they’ll know, and they’ll teach their own gang of bunnies that same lesson in self-worth. I mean, luckily for Benjamin Bunny, white privilege was on his side. He lived next door to a rich-ass farmer who literally threw away cabbage and other high-end garbage items that he could feed his kids with. But I digress…
So, after an afternoon of feasting on garbage, Benjamin the deadbeat Bunny passes out, leaving his children unattended. They get kidnapped by the farmer, who is going to try to eat them– they are nothing more than something to be exploited by a person in a position of power in their lives. Finally, their mom shows up… Lady please. It’s too damn late. I mean, what does she do? Nothing. She does fucking NOTHING. Mrs. Tittlemouse (herself a victim of sexual violence, as you will later learn) has had to bail her kids out already. And what does Benjamin Bunny say after he gets his kids back? “All’s well that ends well.” Fuck you, Benjamin Bunny. Do yourself a favor and buy your daughters some condoms, so as to avert the unwanted pregnancies that lie in their future thanks to your worthless ass teaching them to aim low in the man-bunny department.
Then you’ve got Mr. Jackson, this horny Toad (true story)… he’s telling Mr. Spider that Mrs. Tittlemouse doesn’t like unwanted guests. So… he knows the societal norms around forcing yourself on a woman. But the moment he gets a whiff of Mrs. Tittlemouse’s honey, he crawls inside her mouse tunnel– no questions asked, he’s just there before she knows what’s happening– and comments on her “nice muff”. Wait wait don’t tell me, Mr. Jackson… it was her fault. Then, as she tries to make the most of a situation she can’t get out of, you tell her it’s not good enough, as you’re dripping all over the fucking place. This bitch has already had a rough day, and now you gotta violate her and then tear her down to nothing? She’s gotta bar her fucking windows after that, and he still comes by and drunkenly peers in on her. Real classy, Mr. Jackson.
And don’t even get me started on Jemima Puddleduck. Thanks for making everyone with a vagina look like a completely naive dumbass. We all appreciate that shit.
- ‘The Tale of Peter Rabbit’ by Beatrix Potter (tobagostars.wordpress.com)
- The Life Story of Beatrix Potter (loupdargent.com)