In November 1997, Barney the Dinosaur was stabbed to death by the New York City Police Department. If you’re thinking this is the start of a dark and gritty fanfiction, I can assure you there is ample video evidence of the slaughter online – under headlines such as “Barney Died a Violent Death”, “Watch Barney Get Destroyed”, or “Watch Balloon Barney Die in the Cruel Thanksgiving Parade”. Alright, so that last one gives away that it wasn’t the original Barney that was slain. Rather, this was a vast inflatable version of the all-singing, all-dancing dinosaur beloved by hyperactive Nineties preschoolers, and the star of the show at that year’s Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Until, that is, wild winds threw Barney towards the onlooking crowds. In an instant the character became less “I love you, you love me” Barney, more a lurid Godzilla threatening to crush and suffocate hordes of young children. Then a different kind of disaster struck. A powerful gust shoved Barney into a lamppost, ripping him open. As he flailed – his wound flapping horribly – the NYPD moved in with knives to bring the 58-foot dino down. Swarming on Barney’s back like ants, the police did what they do best. They murdered him in public.
What I didn’t realise when I first saw the footage a couple of years ago was that, when it came to human on purple T rex violence, balloon-Barney’s untimely demise was far from an isolated incident. From the mid-Nineties onwards, the big, friendly dinosaur found himself at the centre of a hate campaign, increasingly subject to vicious public assaults. All over America, and indeed in many of the 252 countries where Barney & Friends was shown on television, plush toys of the icon were filmed being burnt, blown up, run over, or shot. Why were so many people keen to watch Barney get destroyed? What had Barney done to deserve such hate?
