FA+
Shop
Who wrote the Disney Channel's theme?
3 years ago
If you haven't already, I would highly recommend watching Kevin Perjurer's latest Defunctland documentary, on the Disney Channel theme:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_rjBWmc1iQ
If you've never heard of Defunctland, I highly recommend the series, even if you're not a Disney or theme park person. I'm not either of those, and yet the videos, their stories, and the stories told over the arc of a season are amazing works of art. But, that's not what I wanted to write about.
What I wanted to write about was watching this video has brought up a lot of thoughts in my head about legacies. The legacies that we leave behind, the legacies that we encounter in our lives, and the legacies that are lost forever to time. I'm no artist making bumpers for the biggest media company in the world, I'm just a systems administrator in a big organization. The legacy that I leave will inevitable be left behind as technology ever marches forwards. Services that I stood up and maintain will be replaced. All the people that I've helped will eventually leave. Cables that I've pulled will be cut up and discarded, the blood I've spilled lifting two hundred pound servers with my coworkers, the laughs we shared over donuts and coffee at our weekly stand-ups. It will all eventually be forgotten.
So much of what makes us human is swallowed, consumed, and subsumed by uncaring, unfeeling systems that are so much bigger than us. Alex Lasarenko, mere decades after his death, was on the brink of being forgotten despite making an enormous contribution to Disney and their brand strength. He never got officially documented credit for what he did. The systems that we live in don't care about artistry beyond the value they can extract from it. He was just making bumpers for children's television, after all. Nobody will care about it twenty years after the bumpers stop running.
All that being said, is legacy something we should care about? Is it something Lasarenko even cared about? I sign my name onto all the scripts I write, and add myself as a contributor to all the ones I modify. But to what end? My name will mean nothing to anyone who has never met me. It probably doesn't mean much to many people who have, aside from them being able to go, "Ah, he wrote the script, he'll know how to troubleshoot." I look at the art that I have on my wall above my computer and remember the artists. Kibu. ECM. F.Lee. Tuffi. These names all mean something to be, but if I were to die today they would mean nothing to my brother when he goes through my stuff. So even though I carry with me little pieces of their legacy, do those pieces die with me? Surely not as the artists will continue to exist, and the art will continue to be pieces of their body of work. But it feels like something would die with me. The intent? The spark that drew me to the art?
Whatever it is, that is the legacy that I wish to leave behind. I want people to be able to look at the fragments of a departed life, see the beauty that led to those fragments being woven into a whole, and to take those fragments into their whole. No need to know who, or why.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_rjBWmc1iQ
If you've never heard of Defunctland, I highly recommend the series, even if you're not a Disney or theme park person. I'm not either of those, and yet the videos, their stories, and the stories told over the arc of a season are amazing works of art. But, that's not what I wanted to write about.
What I wanted to write about was watching this video has brought up a lot of thoughts in my head about legacies. The legacies that we leave behind, the legacies that we encounter in our lives, and the legacies that are lost forever to time. I'm no artist making bumpers for the biggest media company in the world, I'm just a systems administrator in a big organization. The legacy that I leave will inevitable be left behind as technology ever marches forwards. Services that I stood up and maintain will be replaced. All the people that I've helped will eventually leave. Cables that I've pulled will be cut up and discarded, the blood I've spilled lifting two hundred pound servers with my coworkers, the laughs we shared over donuts and coffee at our weekly stand-ups. It will all eventually be forgotten.
So much of what makes us human is swallowed, consumed, and subsumed by uncaring, unfeeling systems that are so much bigger than us. Alex Lasarenko, mere decades after his death, was on the brink of being forgotten despite making an enormous contribution to Disney and their brand strength. He never got officially documented credit for what he did. The systems that we live in don't care about artistry beyond the value they can extract from it. He was just making bumpers for children's television, after all. Nobody will care about it twenty years after the bumpers stop running.
All that being said, is legacy something we should care about? Is it something Lasarenko even cared about? I sign my name onto all the scripts I write, and add myself as a contributor to all the ones I modify. But to what end? My name will mean nothing to anyone who has never met me. It probably doesn't mean much to many people who have, aside from them being able to go, "Ah, he wrote the script, he'll know how to troubleshoot." I look at the art that I have on my wall above my computer and remember the artists. Kibu. ECM. F.Lee. Tuffi. These names all mean something to be, but if I were to die today they would mean nothing to my brother when he goes through my stuff. So even though I carry with me little pieces of their legacy, do those pieces die with me? Surely not as the artists will continue to exist, and the art will continue to be pieces of their body of work. But it feels like something would die with me. The intent? The spark that drew me to the art?
Whatever it is, that is the legacy that I wish to leave behind. I want people to be able to look at the fragments of a departed life, see the beauty that led to those fragments being woven into a whole, and to take those fragments into their whole. No need to know who, or why.
Nilchi_Tso
~nilchitso
I am very glad to see someone else who watches His channel and enjoyed the latest documentary as much as I did. It was an emotional ride towards the end and did elicit much contemplative thought.
Thegs
~whateverfitshere
OP
Agreed, I was iffy on watching it when it showed up in my notifications, but by about halfway through I could not put it down. I didn't mention this in the journal because Perjurer mentions it in the video, but it's distressing to think that he too is at risk of being consumed and erased by an uncaring Youtube behemoth corporation as well. I completely understand his own self-reflection and desire to be understood as more than just "Youtuber" or "Content Creator".
