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.

3 comments:

the improvising guitarist said...

Intentions be damned, I’m fascinated. Whatever Ms. Cunningham might have had in mind, I think this is (inadvertent) conceptual art.

Jesus, as I sculpt today
Guide my hands to form the clay,
In my work, let others see
The light that only comes from Thee,
Hold me always in Your hand--
Thou Master Sculptor, who formed man.
AMEN


Oh, man. This is the Deist/Creationist answer to the (intentionally ironic/satirical/playful) Bio-Genica.

S, tig

Kris Tiner said...

Today I was in a salad line at the health food store and two housewives in line behind me discovered that the salad bar had introduced a new, smaller size bowl. And one of them said to the other, "Oh, look, you can get a small one, how cute."

Why is it that small versions of big things (or smaller versions of small things) are supposed to be so cute? They aren't to you, they aren't to me. Then again, I'm sure we're not part of the demographic these mini-babies are being marketed to.

Who would buy mini-babies? Housewives, that's who. They love to collect little things. You know why? It's biological. Survival of the species. Mothers have to love babies, and that goes for any kind of babies. Real babies, fake babies, mini-babies, baby bowls, beanie babies...

Andrew said...

tig:

That Bio-Genica thing is priceless. Thanks for linking.

KT:

Who would buy mini-babies? Housewives, that's who. They love to collect little things.

You've given me an exquisite idea... I think I'm going to put the next album on one of those 3-inch CDs. I'll call it The IJG's Diminutive Jazz Album, wrap it in a complementary IJG "blanky" (either blue or pink), and market it to housewives. We'll make a fortune!