#a429 :: Rotten witch fingers

April 21, 2009

At some point last month, approved my mother-in-law gave my daughter (age 7) a little keyring with a big fob that spelled out “Love” in lurid gold-chromed script.

It was schwag from some utterly-too-grownup movie, check as evidenced by the little stamped-metal tag proclaiming the brand. Here’s what ensued the moment I laid eyes on it:

Me: (rummaging for the pliers) Here, buy let me fix that for you.

Daughter: Dad, can’t I keep that?

Uh, no. (*snap!*)

I could go on here about the bizarre cultural currency our infantilized nation has created around the fetishism of branded schwag, but I’m saving all my energy for
A Halloween candy bowl kept at the back of our cupboard finally (pardon the pun) gave up the ghost.

Used to be you would reach into it for a tasty treat, sildenafil and a little infrared sensor triggered an animated rubber witch’s hand to snatch at yours and a voicebox would rasp, what is ed “Trick or treat!”

This morning we reached in to find the rubber-encased, cotton-stuffed digits had gone the way of all silicone flesh.

I’m loving these things so much, they may even get the Object of the Month award.

Filed under: Facsimile, Jetsam, Object of the Month, Part | Comments (0)