.

Tomorrowland is the orphan division of Disneyland, thrown in as sop to
those interested more in the future than the past. My idea was to sex up
Tomorrowland: Tour the Solar System.

Not really, but we'd bill it that way. The Tour of the Solar System
Building was to be large. Its rooms would reproduce environments of
parts of the System, as best we knew them.

* * * * *

I'll never forget the first planning session when we realists were
underdogs, yet swung the basic direction. By then, the Hollywood Mind
had appeared. The Hollywood Mind is definitely a real thing, a vicious
thing, a blank thing, that paternalistically insists It knows what the
public wants.

There was general agreement on broad outlines. Trouble began over Venus.

"Of course," said one of the Minds, "we'll easily create a swampy
environment--"

I burst out with quiet desperation: "May I comment?"

The realists were churning. Right there, sides were being chosen. I let
all know my side immediately.

"Venus is hot, but it's desert heat. Continuous dust storms with
fantastic winds--"

"People'd never go for that junk," interrupted the Mind. "Everyone knows
Venus is swampy."

"Everyone whose reading tastes matured no further than Edgar Rice
Burroughs!"

The Mind, with a if-you-know-so-much-why-aintcha-rich look, sneered,
"How come you know all about it?"

Speechless, I spread my hands. This joker was leading with his chin,
forcing the fight. I had to hit him again; if I lost, I lost good. "A
person," I said slowly and rhythmically, "with normal intelligence and a
minute interest in the universe, will keep step with the major sciences,
at least on an elementary level. I must stress the qualification of
normal intelligence."

The Mind, face contorted, was determined to get me. I was in a very
vulnerable spot; more important, so was the idea.

Mind began an emotional tirade, and mentally I damned him. It couldn't
have mattered to him what environment we used, but he was politicking
where he shouldn't.

There was silence when he stopped. This was the crux; The Boss would
decide. I held my breath.

He said, "We'll make it hot and dusty." The realists had won; the rest
climbed on the bandwagon but quick; and the temple was cleansed.

It was natural--because at the moment I was fair-haired--for the project
to become mine. God knows, I worked hard for it. I'd have to watch the
Mind, though; he would make th