
ARTIFICIAL PEOPLE
The sun may be slowly setting on the humble ventriloquist dummy. This
makes sense, as ventriloquism is essentially a holdover from live
theater, where it's actually impressive to see someone making wood
talk. Once you've heard Ellen Degeneres supply the voice for an absent-minded
fish, though, the novelty of watching a grown man squeak without moving
his lips pales. It may be time to pack the ventriloquist dummy into
his trunk, make one last falsetto gag about wanting to be let out,
and move on. C+
I like how mannequins are getting more abstract. They never looked like
me in the first place, so I say go with it. Design them to look like
a cross between a DeSoto and a giraffe. Color them all sorts of interesting
pastel colors, or better yet make them chrome. Remove their heads
so we can see what we'd look like in an Old Navy jacket after the
revolution comes and we're beheaded for wearing an Old Navy jacket.
I just head for the T-shirts and jeans anyway, so you can hang your
clothes on a live snowy egret for all I care. B
In case you've been living in a cave or a retirement community for the
last few years, a RealDoll is the Kobe beef of artificial sex partners.
A full-sized woman with silicone flesh and actual articulated joints,
buying a RealDoll is as close as you can get to having a real sex partner
while still being really pathetic. My favorite is the guy who painted
his indigo to make it a dark elf. Because you want it to be as much
like fucking an actual magical spider-worshipping underworld denizen
as possible. D+
These guys were heavily overexposed in the eighties, starting with
a series of PSAs and moving into action figures, video games, and
the inevitable rap. Everyone rapped in the eighties, it was really
embarrassing, and even more so when the rappers are designed to suffer
terrible injuries in automobile accidents. And that's not even getting
into the whole "Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm" thing. It's sad, really, because
crash test dummies, in the generic, are cool. You stick them in some
eastern European death box and they get hurt real bad. What's not to
like about that? Just the fact that the names "Vince and Larry" send
you into a retro aneurysm. C-
Never having visited the Hall of Presidents, I associate animatronic
people with two things: Christmas and bad pizza. Christmas is of course
for the usual array of mall-bound elves and Santas doomed to wave
and/or cavort in an endless loop of robotic holiday cheer. Which, frankly,
is what Christmas always feels like to me anyway. The pizza is because
of Chuck E. Cheese's, which was absolutely the coolest thing in my life
for about six weeks when I was ten. I don't know if a giant rat counts
as a "person," but there was also a chef. These days I'm generally "eh" about
android entertainment, but then I consider the alternative -- guys in
stuffy outfits -- and my position changes to "Bring on the robots!" C+