'Harry Potter World' to be Transfigured into Conversion Camp
Picture a sunset. Glowing in cosmic beauty, you transcend. Now, imagine while you look out at God’s cummerbund, a small goat trots up to you. “Hey, little guy, how ya doing?” you ask this four-legged friend that has minus signs for eyes.
“I know and love trans people, but erasing the concept of sex removes the ability of many to meaningfully discuss their lives. It isn’t hate to speak the truth,” says the sacrificial animal.
“What?” you ask. “I mean, ‘maa,’” the goat states.
J.K. Rowling is the goat. In 2020, this weaver of magical yarns got hers snipped when she said the above quote. While she has earned the ire of the general public, she still wields considerable influence over the writing and production of the “Fantastic Beast” films, as well as the management of Universal theme park “Harry Potter World.” With this influence, she has campaigned to turn the popular site into a place young LGBTQ+ teens can go to “magic away the gay.” Being the ice cream man that I am, I got the scoop.
The popular Florida destination has long found itself at the forefront of whimsy and entertainment and fun. Young witches and wizards can pick a wand from Ollivanders, ride an animatronic Hypogriff, and even chug a pint of butterbeer. “And all that will be the same,” says park owner and born-again Slytherin David Yensin, “but now you’ll just receive a pamphlet on the evils of homosexuality along with your Hogwarts History textbooks.” Yensin, and the 14-headed corpobeast that represents J.K. Rowling’s public relations team, were emphatic in letting me know that not much about the amusement park would be different. “All the rides will go at the same speed, but we’ve had our Imagineers figure out a way to beam sped-up Brigham Young speeches into the rider’s brains as they go around loops,” reassured the fourth head on the soulless P.R. chimera.
“Wait a moment, don’t Imagineers work for Disney?” I asked, remembering the insipid portmanteau’s true meaning.
“It’s cute you think Disney doesn’t want a piece of the conversion therapy pie,” condescended the 10th head. “And how delicious it is!” they squealed in unison.
One of the many advantages of working for a school paper is all the places I get into for free. So, like the lucky little paper boy that I am, I received two tickets to see the new renovations at the park. At first, I assumed that the extra was just for redundancy’s sake, but a note on the back told me that it was for “Zivan’s Hopefully-Convertible-Possible Boyfriend." When I commented on my heterosexuality out loud, the note, à la Tom Riddle’s Diary, morphed into “come on, just find someone unsuspecting. We need to know if it works.” Obviously, I could not, in good conscience, bring anyone but myself to conversion camp, so I shredded the second ticket and made my way to gator country.
I’m loathe to admit that, as evil as this place is, I had quite a good time. Wherever I turned, the production value was off the charts. One memorable performance was the Hogwarts Frog Choir’s rendition of “Girls Just Want to Have Fun,” retitled “Witches Will Have Fun Together, But Not so Much that They’ll Do Hand Stuff.” Afterwards, I went inside a Transfiguration classroom where we pretended to turn whistles into watches, pots into pencils, and Pride flags to table cloths. Following that, Potions class had us whipping up all sorts of delicious concoctions, like a citrus Polyjuice potion and chocolate-y Amortentia. When I asked what this had to do with conversion therapy, I was told that all the ingredients were requisitioned from nearby gay bars. “But that’s not conversion, that’s just stealing,” I protested.
“Sometimes the arm of God bends in ways we cannot anticipate,” said the little girl next to me, her eyes darkening as Hedwig's Theme played ambiently from the rafters.
I maintain that what they are doing to Harry Potter World is demonstrably evil and harmful. J.K. Rowling has already done enough damage, and this will only magnify the hurt she has caused. While it really is quite fun to spin around in enchanted teapots and eat Elder wand churros, I implore those that would visit to avoid attending altogether, lest you get enchanted by the magic of homophobia. Like always, the most hateful people have the most money, and the best special effects.