Story
Up and down the isle, George looked at the dolls sitting on their shelves. Hundreds of eyes staring blankly back at him from a hundred different types of dolls. He wanted to pick just the right toy, though he wasn't sure he would be able to find it in the isle filled with mass-produced horrors he found.
One line of dolls was very life-like, and felt like a real baby. There was a variety of styles one could chose from, each more or less identical aside from the color of skin. It made baby sounds, and did baby things: it cooed, spit up, and burped like a real baby. Its realness made it more fake, and made it rather grotesque after spending any amount of time with it.
Another line of dolls was fashioned around the idea of what a woman should look like when she has matured. Tall, slender, busty, and well-mannered. It had it's own line of accessories, so that little girls could dress it up, put make up on it, and do all the "normal woman" things that should be done. There was such a wide variety of accessories, that each doll would eventually become unique if someone were to invest enough money into it. Unique like everyone else's doll.
There were numbers of many many types of different dolls who did many different things; Some dolls had hair to be cut, others had toilets to sit on. Each doll also had its own cheap knock off that did the same thing at a more affordable price.
It was a plethora of machine crafted plastic that was generated to fulfill the wants of what little girls wanted. They were made in a factory owned by a group of people who do not care what children need, and only the money they make off of what children want.
George wandered the lane and thought all of this to himself, becoming more and more disgusted. Each heap of molded, heartless plastic filled him with more and more rage, knowing that the only way he would be happy was if he settled for something cheap and tasteless.
On the bottom row at the end of the isle, closest to the wall, George saw something different. He leaned over and picked up a doll unlike any others he had seen in the store that day. It's body was made from fabric sewn together and stuffed with cotton. It's hair was a tangle of string and yarn, weaved in by hand. It's face was crookedly painted on with acrylic paints and it's dress appeared to be made out of left over scraps of fabric. It was awkward and lumpy.
George took the funny doll up to the counter handing it to the clerk. The Clerk looked once at George, once at the doll, and back at George. "Are you sure this is the doll you want, sir?"
George, almost hurt by the question, responded "Of course! This is the best doll you have in your store."
Late Merry Christmas everyone. I hope Santa brought everyone the presents they deserved.
I know this story probably seems kinda lame and predictable. Maybe it is. However, I wrote this for probably less than obvious reasons, which I'm not going into. So, if you don't like it, it wasn't written for you :P
One line of dolls was very life-like, and felt like a real baby. There was a variety of styles one could chose from, each more or less identical aside from the color of skin. It made baby sounds, and did baby things: it cooed, spit up, and burped like a real baby. Its realness made it more fake, and made it rather grotesque after spending any amount of time with it.
Another line of dolls was fashioned around the idea of what a woman should look like when she has matured. Tall, slender, busty, and well-mannered. It had it's own line of accessories, so that little girls could dress it up, put make up on it, and do all the "normal woman" things that should be done. There was such a wide variety of accessories, that each doll would eventually become unique if someone were to invest enough money into it. Unique like everyone else's doll.
There were numbers of many many types of different dolls who did many different things; Some dolls had hair to be cut, others had toilets to sit on. Each doll also had its own cheap knock off that did the same thing at a more affordable price.
It was a plethora of machine crafted plastic that was generated to fulfill the wants of what little girls wanted. They were made in a factory owned by a group of people who do not care what children need, and only the money they make off of what children want.
George wandered the lane and thought all of this to himself, becoming more and more disgusted. Each heap of molded, heartless plastic filled him with more and more rage, knowing that the only way he would be happy was if he settled for something cheap and tasteless.
On the bottom row at the end of the isle, closest to the wall, George saw something different. He leaned over and picked up a doll unlike any others he had seen in the store that day. It's body was made from fabric sewn together and stuffed with cotton. It's hair was a tangle of string and yarn, weaved in by hand. It's face was crookedly painted on with acrylic paints and it's dress appeared to be made out of left over scraps of fabric. It was awkward and lumpy.
George took the funny doll up to the counter handing it to the clerk. The Clerk looked once at George, once at the doll, and back at George. "Are you sure this is the doll you want, sir?"
George, almost hurt by the question, responded "Of course! This is the best doll you have in your store."
Late Merry Christmas everyone. I hope Santa brought everyone the presents they deserved.
I know this story probably seems kinda lame and predictable. Maybe it is. However, I wrote this for probably less than obvious reasons, which I'm not going into. So, if you don't like it, it wasn't written for you :P