Less Than Pointless Toys

As a mom with two toddlers, at least one of the four televisions in my home is tuned to Nickelodeon, Disney or PBS Sprout during most, if not all, of the day. Which means I get to bear witness to lots of toy commercials. What really shocks me though is the lunacy of some of the toy concepts that corporate America expects us to swallow. Yet, just when I see a ridiculous and pointless toy pop up on my 52" high-def plasma, in come my kids falling all over themselves to get a better look. I'm baffled at the genius marketing strategies to make even the most pointless toys appear remarkable, leaving my three-year-old physically ill if we don't make an immediate trip to Toys "R" Us.

Kung Zhu Battle Hamsters

I hope that the great minds in research and development at Cepia LLC realized that "zhu" rhymes with "fu" and that was the reason for this ridiculous marriage of concepts, because there is literally no other possible connection between hamsters and the ancient Chinese fighting art that would warrant the production of a billion of these fuckers. Don't be tempted to mistake these "Kung Zhu Zhus" as traditional "Zhu Zhu Pets." The hot toy of last Christmas, Zhu Zhu pets scurry around cooing, squeaking and bouncing off of any surface they might encounter along their two-double-A-battery lifetime, while Kung Zhu Battle Hamsters scurry around cooing, squeaking, and bouncing off any surface they might encounter along their two-double-A-battery-lifetime while wearing a cool suit of plastic armor.

Regarded as the "militant hamster arm of Zhu Zhu", (because even motorized hamsters need protective armed forces), this new line features "Special Forces," "Ninja Warriors", "Rangers", and the adorably deadly "Skull Tribe Battle Hamsters". And your Kung Zhu collection would not be complete without the assortment of battle vehicles, training arena, and "the magic tablet of Zhu" (literally, because without the training arena and the strategically placed tunnels leading the hamsters into the same tiny battle circle, there's no way to force the usually-cordial Zhu Zhu hamsters to repeatedly bump each other's noses - and then you'd just be stuck with hamsters dressed in ridiculous battle gear arbitrarily scurrying about in opposite directions, like they don't realize their deadliest nemesis is stuck circling the corner by mom's favorite Fichus).

So what is the real reason for Kung Zhu Battle Hamsters? Easy. Greed-induced-insanity. (And a hail Mary pitch from the marketing exec with a hard-on for Jet Li). The original toy appealed mostly to girls, and even boys in Pull-ups know it's gay to run around playing with toy hamsters. I believe it was Benjamin Franklin that said "nothing is faggy when it's covered in armor"; the statement rings with truth.

However, I think this toy company went a much more complicated direction than they needed to in order to fill in this marketing hole. Below I've found a concept that I think is much simpler, cheaper, and much more appealing to the male youth demographic.

What we have here is a classic hamster, (actually cheaper than a motorized Zhu Zhu Pet), which you can find in any pet store, and your run-of-the-mill steak knife found in most any kitchen (notice the serrated edge; this is important). Add a little electrical tape, and another hamster armed with a comparable steak knife strapped to its back, and then we really have a party.

Pro Thumb Wrestling Play Set

This gem of a toy is perfect for anyone who feels like thumb wrestling, but with the added challenge of an obnoxious plastic obstruction making the entire act near impossible. Call me a traditionalist, but I prefer a good ol' fashioned naked thumb-wrastlin' the way God intended. Is it a surprise that this concept is Japanese-born? Nope. Because the Japanese know exactly how simple-minded Americans are.

But what I like most about this toy is the careful thought that went into the design. The gold-thread covered ropes are perfect if you or your partner's thumb wants to throw a "Cactus Jack Clothesline", and there are turnbuckles in the event you want to attempt a "Diamond Dust forward somersault." What this toy is missing? Tiny folding chairs, and actual usefulness.

Pee & Poo

Okay, Japan, we get it; you think we're retarded. And we just may be for purchasing this absolutely pointless stuffed rendition of urine and fecal matter. Actually, I happen to think this is a great idea. In fact, I can think of nothing more satisfying than coming home after a long day of work to my bedroom to find a stuffed pile of shit on my bed gracing the collection of needlepoint pillows that my dead Great-Aunt battled through bone-curling arthritis to hand-make me. The only problem I find with this toy is the questionable realism; I have never experienced urine thick enough to form a healthy, whipped dollop such as portrayed by this toy, which I find troublesome. Also, if I may suggest, I believe that in the newly-released, updated edition of "Pee and Poo", the toy company should strive to include one other beloved bodily fluid that is sure to find its way to the hearts of millions. Menses.

Shrinky Dinks

Here's a great idea; let's take a plastic sheet of pictures, cut them out, and work our tiny little asses off to paint and decorate them to near perfection. And then, just when we have them exactly the way we want them after an afternoon of blood, sweat, tears, and absorbing toxic levels of lead-based paint, let's throw them in the oven for two minutes to make them two-thirds smaller! Fucking awesome! There are few things in my life that I've created that I didn't want to arbitrarily shrink to a smaller size. So "Shrinky-Dinks" really are the perfect toy for any kid that has zero pride in their work, and a down-sloping forehead.

It's toys like this that make me the angriest. There's literally nothing to them, they cost less than nothing to make, and yet we buy things like this until our hall closets are vomiting boxes of garbage. Some idiot in the seventies figured out that plastic shrinks when exposed to heat, and now he's living out the rest of his life on some island he owns in the Caribbean. Because of plastic. That shrinks.

Tamagotchi

This one may finally be old enough to be considered a classic. I can remember being a freshman in high school and drooling over the tiny, egg-shaped, digital key chains that donned the JNCO belt-loops of only the most popular nerds in school. For the longest time, the elusive "Tamagotchi" seemed near-impossible to find, until Japan decided to unleash the toy phenomenon in greater numbers so that "the rest of us" could have one (the cool kids had already moved on to Furbies).

So I had finally gotten my hands on one, a fateful day in September during a late Sunday trip to the boardwalk. The damn things were raining out of the sky by then, and I had won one in a fifty-cent crane machine. I took home my precious, turned it on, and watched the little digital animal-ish thing pop up. It asked for food, so I pressed the "food" button. It needed to be cleaned, and so I pressed that button when prompted. And then it wanted to play, which also required the ceremonious press of a third button. This cycle looped indefinitely. I was delighted! While I could still hear the late summer echoes of a neighborhood pickup football game in the distance through my bedroom window, and my friend Andrea was polishing up on her latest piano sonata, I was continuously pressing a combination of three buttons on my tiny egg in order to satiate the insatiable appetite of my digital pet. The pros? It taught me young the biggest lesson of life: that it's pointless. The cons? It taught me young the biggest lesson of life: that it's pointless.