Wednesday, July 25, 2007
No fuss, no muss
So an insert for these came in yesterday's mail, and my day was basically ruined.
I mean, what the fuck? Like, are real human babies not already helpless enough? Do we hafta make 'em small enough to fit in the palm of your freakin' hand? If that's not an instance of de-evolution, I don't know what is.
Or maybe it's a way to feel superior and in-control, subtly disguised as an obsession with "cute things." As my wife said, satirically in character as one of these obsessives (I'm paraphrasing): "Oh, look at me! I'm a giant! Look at my itty bitty baby! Haw haw haw!"
Of course, Jeeeezus has to be involved somewhere under all this. If you're bored enough to click over to the website of the lady who insists on unleashing these upon the world, you will be greeted with some churchy doggerel equating sculpture with divine creation. Hoo-boy.
But if there really is a god, I seriously doubt he/she would intentionally make something like this:
And here's a gruesome twosome for ya:
This guy looks a little like Edward G. Robinson. And he's made out of silicone:
Anyway, the insert had a little disclaimer that read "This doll is not a toy; she is a fine collectible to be enjoyed by adult collectors."
Oh really? "Fine" in what sense exactly? "Enjoyed" in what sense exactly?
I mean, we're not talking about wine here, right?
I guess what really creeps me out is that I can't help but wonder if the existence of these things, much like the existence of the child pageant phenomenon, is actually evidence of a deep disgust for real, living, breathing children. A product of these sad, sick times.