So Deep in the Uncanny Valley it Chafes


This may have changed by the time you read this, but you are Ms. Christmas all year round. You ask me to read Polar Express way more often than I would choose (and there are other christmas books). You spontaneously break into Jingle Bells at least once a week, and frequently mash it up with whatever else happens to be on your mind. You have multiple toy Santas. And more than once, when you’ve seen old men with white beards, you’ve had particular questions.

So this evening I have work to do, and your mom is off scrapbooking with Paula. And this morning you sauntered up with an unwrapped DVD copy of the Polar Express. (Where did that even come from? Shoplifting?) So I figured you would enjoy watching it while I got some work done.

And you have! But holy gods is it terrible. I’m going to have to fast for days to purge the whimsy.

You’ll probably have to look up “uncanny valley” by the time you read this—it’s unlikely to be very relevant to many people in ten years. I first heard the term around the time this movie came out. But I figured that it couldn’t be as unfortunate in an U.V. way as it looked, because how could people with the resources to produce a big time movie picture show make such a horrible mistake?

I don’t have an answer. I may never understand. Also, the elf at the end who just said “truuusssst me” is plainly evil, which is kind of random.

So yeah. I’m sure you’ll be asking for the Santa movie all the time now.

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