The FTC and a coaltion of advocacy organizations have asked the MPAA to revamp their guidelines in order to stop PG-13 movies (and movie accessories) from being marketed to young children. Young kids should not be watching PG-13 movies — that’s why they’re rated PG-13:

A PG-13 motion picture may go beyond the PG rating in theme, violence, nudity, sensuality, language, adult activities or other elements . . . .

Of course, parents know their kids best and should be able to determine if any particular move is suitable for their kids.

But if no PG-13 movie is acceptable for, say, a 3-year-old, then why are those same movie-related toys being promoted to them?

Amazon.com seems to be listing toys in age categories even below the manufacturer’s suggested age restriction. Not good, especially for friends and aunts and uncles who rely on Amazon to help them find an appropriate gift.

As always, let’s ask: What’s wrong with selling a Pirates of the Caribbean coloring book to two- and three-year-olds (listed on Amazon.com for 2- to 4-year-olds)?

Because it’s irresponsible to entice kids into wanting something (in this case, to see a movie) that is not appropriate for their age.

Disney and Mattel should know better. They have plenty of other ways to infilitrate our kids’ psyches using age-appropriate toys and movies.

And in this new climate of retailers-are-responsible-too? Amazon better get its act together.

TV kid sleuth Roxy Hunter, with “a knack for catching the bad guy and choosing the ultimate accessory,” will be featured on products sold at tween stores Limited Too and Justice. (Creating characters with built-in brand-extension potential: priceless.) Did I mention the show is rated Y7? That’s for seven-year-olds. In addition to the licensing partnership, we can look forward to more Roxy Hunter movies (10 to 15 over the next five years); Roxy Hunter “novels,” and Roxy Hunter DVDs.

Disney characters promote beerish drink. Samba, the Smoother, Better Beer, makes Mini Malt — for kids. The malt beverage, featuring Mickey, Pooh-Bear, and characters from the Lion King, is made in Trinidad and exported to the U.S., Canada, Surinam, Guyana, Grenada, Barbados, Dominica, Antigua, and Jamaica. Is there any product Disney won’t license? (via Blog Ryan)

South Carolina lets school districts decide about placing ads inside public school buses. Officials say the ads could bring in millions of dollars for the schools. Looks like they’d allow only 20 ads per bus. Talk about a captive audience.

This piece of inspirational blogging is brought to you by Feministing:

A Feministing reader found an offensive pair of junior-sized underwear at Walmart, took a photo, and sent it to the blog. The story is picked up other bloggers. Outrage ensues, and within a couple days, the panties are pulled from stores.

A victory for online activism!

(Of course, when family-friendly Fox News links to your blog, you have to deal with the consequences: Feministing is publishing select hate mail today.)

And in The Nation, Barbara Ehrenreich discusses the lure of the Disney Princesses:

. . . the Princesses exert their pull through a dark and undeniable eroticism. They’re sexy little wenches, for one thing. Snow White has gotten slimmer and bustier over the years; Ariel wears nothing but a bikini top (though, admittedly, she is half fish.) In faithful imitation, the 3-year-old in my life flounces around with her tiara askew and her Princess gown sliding off her shoulder, looking for all the world like a London socialite after a hard night of cocaine and booze. Then she demands a poison apple and falls to the floor in a beautiful swoon. Pass the Rohypnol-laced margarita, please.

It may be old-fashioned to say so, but sex–and especially some middle-aged man’s twisted version thereof–doesn’t belong in the pre-K playroom.

Guess I’m old-fashioned that way too. When it arrives in the U.S. (if it hasn’t already), I will deny my daughter her right to participate in the Miss Disney Princess Pageant.

Footnoted’s post on Disney sprawl (among other things) unfortunately brought back some painful memories of an ill-fated trip to Disney World.

I was working for a for-profit university and our task was to fly to Disney World to investigate the possibility of hosting a student event there. Even though I’m pretty anti-Disney, I’m not, say, a Miss Trunchbull, so I used the free ticket there as an excuse to take my then-seven-year-old daughter.

She was thrilled, of course, but had to endure a day and a half of meetings with grown-ups.

I cannot even begin to describe the idiocracy of those meetings.

And the sales guys.

Since we would be bringing quite a large group of attendees, they were willing to bend over backwards for us: shrink-wrapping the Disney buses with our logo, adding desks to about 300 of their guest rooms, and concealing the life-sized fake-town backdrop at the “extreme stunt show” on a backlot of Disney-MGM Studios.

When they took us to lunch, it was “on the mouse.” If I heard Well, that’s the Disney difference! one more time, I was going to throw up.

Anyway, my favorite moment was when one  of the sales guys leaned down to my daughter:

Sales guy: So, who’s your favorite Disney Princess, honey?
Daughter: Umm . . . (looks frantically at her mother) . . . I don’t know.
Sales guy: Oh, it’s so hard to choose just one, isn’t it?
Me: No, that’s not it. She doesn’t know who you are talking about.
Sales guy:

Today Disney spends four billion dollars marketing Disney princesses to girls. And babies. And brides. And everyone else. Amazon.com lists no fewer than 7,806 Disney Princess “products.”

My daughter and I stayed an extra day at Disney World (it rained). Disney did not get that event contract with us. And I can guarantee that I’ll never set foot in Disney World again.