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Friday, October 26, 2007

PLASTIC FANTASTIC LOVER: ON "REAL DOLLS" AND COMMERCIALIZED PSEUDO-NECROPHILIA

So there's this new movie out called LARS AND THE REAL GIRL that's about a guy with severe social disorders who orders a lifelike "Real Girl" doll to be his companion. In case you don't know, this comedic idea was inspired by the real life phenomenon of the Real Doll, a life-size, eerily lifelike series of female dolls that can be used as hyper-realistic window display manikins, oddball decorations, sculpture for display, and, thanks to them being, er, "anatomically correct," they're also perhaps the ultimate in male masturbation toys.

I first heard of the Real Doll a little over ten years ago when they were described on THE HOWARD STERN SHOW by one of the manufacturers, and I was rather creeped out at the idea. But the concept was nothing new; men have theorized about some sort of fuck toy since time immemorial, coming up with alternatives to real women such as hollowing out various fresh fruits, wanking off with a raw piece of room-temperature liver to approximate a "realistic" texture (as made infamous in Phillip Roth's 1969 novel PORTNOY'S COMPLAINT), and of course the classic inflatable doll that's been around in one form or another, with varying levels of manufacturing finesse, since around the early 1900's.

The classic inflatable love doll: I hope to the gods that I never get that hard up for some pussy.

There was even an initially interesting underground comic book called DOLL by Guy Colwell that launched in 1989, and chronicled the "adventures" of a startlingly realistic sex doll commissioned from a genius artist by a hideously deformed man for use as a companion and an outlet for his sexual needs.

The doll was crafted with "flesh" made from a suitably yielding substance, equipped with a heating unit that gave it a body temperature of 98.6 degrees, and it even included a modular vaginal cylinder that could be removed for variable levels of intimate tightness and the concerns of cleaning and maintenance. Eventually the doll is stolen from its buyer and sent on an unwitting odyssey in which it is passed around and used by many horny characters, each encounter as characteristically graphic as one would expect from underground comics territory while also examining the motivations of each user.

I read about three issues of DOLL before losing interest. I mean, how long can you read what is essentially the same story for issue after issue when the main "character" is an inanimate, posable manikin with a blank stare whose sole purpose is to be plugged with the greasy Johnsons of assorted unsavory types?

The late comedian Sam Kinison — my choice for the funniest comedian of all time after Richard Pryor — even postulated how somewhere there were scientists working on the "elastic bush," a marvel of science and technology that would render its creators millionaires overnight since "it never has a period" and is "never tired and never talks back." Such an invention takes reducing a woman to just a hole to new lows, but that goal had been achieved long before Kinison's onstage ranting, as anyone who's ever been in a Times Square porno emporium and seen one of those wide-open foam latex pussies can tell you. It's a soft-plastic female crotch that offers both below-the-belt orifices for the eager masturbator, and when seen disembodied and packaged behind plastic in a colorful gift box it's indeed disturbing and resembles either an amorphous, unnamable thing as envisioned by H.P. Lovecraft or some slavering space alien. And to top it off, some of them are equipped with wraparound vibrators and even squeeze bulbs and hoses to create a sucking effect. Ladies, don't get me wrong. I'm mesmerized by your Good Stuff, but one of these things only looks like what you’ve got if it were portrayed by a not-very-good Muppet, and is really just plain crude and best reserved for use as a novelty pencil-holder.

And besides, what the fuck happened to just plain old simple jerking off?

Anyway, after mulling over the concept of the Real Doll, I couldn’t help but picture a life-size, life-weight contraption that may have looked realistic but was rather corpselike in aspect, bringing to mind sweaty loners and social retards in wife-beater t-shirts, securely ensconced in a dank basement, enacting their necrophile fantasies with a tube of Astroglide in hand. I wondered how anyone could get turned on by something that was a little over five feet of dead weight that just lay there, its unliving eyes staring like a road-killed deer, and after “use” would need to be hauled bodily over to the sink and have its lady parts hosed out with the nozzle used for spraying crud off of dirty dishes. I also wondered about what you’d do with a Real Doll when not having sex with one of them; would you continually buy them new sexy outfits? Would you name them? Would you come to think of them in the same way that sailors anthropomorphize their ships and refer to them as “her” or “she?”

And what about the physical logistics? Do their vaginas stretch and distend like the real thing does, depending on how their legs are positioned? What do they feel and taste like? Does their plastic skin smell like PVC or rubber? Also, the garden variety Real Doll costs exactly one cent less than $7000, including postage and handling, so there’s also the price to consider. If I were going to shell out that kind of scratch, I’d go on a lavish trip to the UK or buy some serious stereo equipment or a big-assed plasma screen TV!

With all of this in mind I went to the official Real Doll website and checked it all out, and I have to admit I was amazed, intrigued, a bit creeped out, and reminded of the possible prototypes for the replicants in BLADE RUNNER.

The FAQ section answered most of my questions, so I moved on to the galleries of available types. Most of them seemed a bit stiff, but they were impressive as pieces of manufactured product, so I perused each one. Then I found two items that put me into the mindset of the hypthetical creepy basement boinker, namely the editions that were monikered “Britney” and Kaori.”

Upon first Glance of the Britney version I did a double take and said to myself, "That's GOT to be a real model!" But no, it was an incredibly convincing toy.

Is it just me, or is this really amazing? It's a goddamned work of art! Then there was a fully nude example of the same doll that only betrayed its artificiality by the rubbery bend of the "flesh" around its knee.

The knee gives it away, as well as a certain stillness of the figure, but it's still quite impressive.

The Kaori doll was featured in the obligatory schoolgirl uniform, but then they decked it out in this getup and posed it provocatively.

I swear to the gods that this looks like a shot of a real eighteen-to-early-twenty-something Japanese chick. And when I was done looking at the site I couldn't get the images of those two dolls out of my head, leading me to the disturbing realization that if given the opportunity to "test drive" either or both of them I would probably do it, just as long as it was a one time thing and nobody ever found out. I'm not denying my occasional need to "take matters into my own hands," but owning a Real Doll would be taking it to levels that are way too extreme and frought with unwelcome psychological underpinnings for me.

I also considered that there probably are perfectly decent people out there, both male and female, who are too shy or socially awkward to be comfortable enough to ever have a physical relationship with a real live person, so for all I know the Real Doll may be doing more good than I initially thought. I may not get lucky as often as I'd like, but at least fate has kindly thrown me that option while some others will never know the pleasure of that all-too-human connection. And if the Real Doll can help to ease the pain of the lonely, either as something to talk to or as a means to approximate intimate contact, then who the hell am I to pass judgement?

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

actually there's a great, sad and creepy documentary about this topic that the BBC produced a few years back

video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3710987618964917848

Kevie said...

What interesting logistical questions the Real Doll raises. It always struck me that those things must be a lot of work. You must have to store it when not in use, right? Otherwise it's going to get all dusty. Does it come in some kind of re-useable coffin-like crate? Where are you keeping that? And what about when you move to a new home? You're not letting the movers see that thing; they'll laugh you off the face of the earth. You'd have to pack it in the car in the middle of the night, and hope none of the neighbors see you and get the wrong idea.

I think personally, my fear of discovery would be only slightly less than if I had actuallly killed somebody. But maybe if you're ready to take that step, you're kind of past caring what anybody thinks. Or maybe you're just confident in yourself and you think it's a big hoot and who cares.

But the real enemy is time. I seem to remember seeing the one that the Stern show had, after it had been kicking around the studio for too long. That was when it got really creepy because it still looked real but it was missing an arm or something. I figure I already mistreat my cell phones and laptops pretty heinously. My titanium Mac book has tons of dents in it. And that thing's going to be heavy and hard to control. Imagine her face after too many collisions with the headboard. Eeesh.

Anonymous said...

The Real Doll people have everything covered. They will just sell you a torso or pelvis if space is an issue - with or without pubic hair.

Mel

Bunche said...

Anonymous said...
"The Real Doll people have everything covered. They will just sell you a torso or pelvis if space is an issue - with or without pubic hair."

Which now brings us into the realm of commercialized amputee pseudo-necrophila. Hooray!!!

Kevie said...

Thanks, but I have plenty of dismembered torsos... oh, I've said too much.

Anonymous said...

I see that this is an old post.. but have to add. Yes.. I have had a realdoll for a few years now.

I look at it this way. Yes they are expensive. But look at this:

Sex with your doll one time it cost you $7000. Sex with her twice, it cost you $3500 each time. Four times it's $1750 each. And so on. By the time your ratio is down to $1 per fuck.. A perfect submissive sex slave who simply CAN NOT SAY NO? At it only cost you $1 (and shrinking) each time you fuck her. Priceless >:)

And no.. finding, dating, and having sex with a real women isn't the problem (not that it's easy either). It's finding a woman who can keep up and isn't afraid. It takes a rare women to look into the soul of a dragon of lust and not be afraid but BEG for more. ;) Till I find her.. my doll is better than 99.9999% of women out there. What's the point of having sex if she treats it like a choore? Or if you have to jump through hoops to "get her in the mood". Sorry.. I don't play that game anymore. I can't fall in love with a woman who ultimatly "controls" the sex... and too many women out there do, weither guys want to admit it or not. If you can't do what you want to her, when you want to, whenever, whever you want to and she not only will do it but LOVE it.. then you aren't contolling the sex.. she is. But then women wonder where all the "real men" have gone. But that's another topic.. ;)

Anonymous said...

Real men have gone? What is wrong with you guys. This is disturbing to even fancy the idea of having sex with a doll. Have you lost all contact with reality? There are women practically begging to have sex lately. Craigslist and dating websites are FULL of beautiful women willing to have sex. You guys should really seek some help with issues you have with women and control and becoming close to someone. Or NOT getting close to someone, there are plenty of women who want NSA sex.

Come on guys.. its a DOLL. Man up