I was on vacation last week with the family, visiting folks in Florida. And I guess I just assumed that if you venture within a half-day drive of a Disney property you’re somehow morally, culturally, or patriotically obligated to take your kids there. Lest, upon your return, a polite but firm representative from Child Services awaits to escort your offspring to their new, more caring and responsible parents.

So the whole extended family went to Disney World, conquering no less than three kingdoms in three days – Animal, Magical, and Hollywood, plus EPCOT, which technically isn’t a kingdom, having been originally conceived as the Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow, Walt’s creepy concept for an all-Disney town currently realized in Celebration, FL.

If you’ve never been, Florida’s Disney World is the super-sized progeny of the original Disneyland. It’s Vegas for the Anglican family. And if visiting Disneyland is like strolling through a giant commercial (which it is), then Florida’s Disney World is more like an infomercial. No, it’s an endless tradeshow for a kid-centric media conglomerate. Forty-seven square miles of the ultimate in immersion marketing. A brand menagerie you pay (and dearly) for the privilege of experiencing.

Now don’t get me wrong. Disney World can be a lot of fun, particularly if your family has the fortitude and temperament to withstand, if not enjoy, the sophisticated logistics required to navigate the crushing crowds and labyrinthine complex of thrill rides and sideshows, each with their accompanying queues. For, within moments of the park’s opening, waiting lines stretch in serpentine strands of humanity from every attraction, consuming huge blocks of both time and space. Avoiding them requires the tactical acumen of Army Ranger Scouts.

Often times awe-inspiring. Equal parts infuriating. Traversing Disney World is all about long, shuffling stretches of pause punctuated by momentary instances of spine-tingling exhilaration. Throughout it all, however, there’s an eerie sense of other-worldliness. It’s hard to discern among all the Happiness, Magic and Coming True of Dreams and stuff. But upon returning to the real world I couldn’t help but reflect on the experience in the context of consumer culture.

First off, from a pure profit-driven marketing perspective, Disney wins. They’ve created the ultimate branded experience – a completely commercial destination that people not only willingly participate in but pay for. I mean, “What brand does that?” Who else has so effectively ingrained themselves into our collective societal psyche that pilgriming to the shrines they’ve created to lionize their brand has become some kind of moral responsibility to our children and/or civic duty to our country?

And yet, perhaps the real genius isn’t just in getting us to go. Because, in the ultimate branded experience, we actually become part of the campaign. We plunk our kids in front of that big castle, cajole them into an acceptable pose and art direct our own full-page ad right there. We forward it to our parents who show it, like all proud Poppies and Grammies do, to their friends. Admit it. You buy the picture you see on the screen after the ride. You know, the one of two bug-eyed kids, a cautiously euphoric father and a terror-stricken mom, screeching, clinging in panicked, white-knuckled desperation to the handrail. You still laugh about that one today.

But perhaps most importantly, it’s also worth contemplating Disney in the context of advertising’s conscience. As the largest media and entertainment conglomerate in the world, NYSE: DIS is a brand with astronomical reach. They’re America’s storytellers. And, part of what makes much of their content so compelling is that there is always a moral to the story. From Cinderella’s benevolent ascent from poverty to Wally’s cautionary tale about sustaining a livable planet.

So make no mistake, Disney is definitely selling values. The question is, are we consuming it as such?