‘Oh, a storm is threat’ning … My very life today … If I don’t get some shelter … Lord, I might – fade away.’
Gimme Shelter ~ The Rolling Stones
Now that some of the apocalyptic nuclear dust has settled from the Supreme Court’s recent decision to uphold the civil rights of same-sex couples in federal law, but while the subject is still fresh in the minds of the media-consuming public, I can’t help but point out that Conservatives — once again — have got it all wrong. At least they’re consistent.
There IS a very real threat to traditional marriage, but it doesn’t come from sundry gay folks conjoining in wanton acts of civil union so they can learn to hate each other after 10 or 12 years of disputatious conversations about patio furniture and wallpaper — just like regular folk do.
No, the real threat to traditional marriage comes from a direction that Radioactive Crack Monkeys like Limbaugh, Hannity, Cruz, Huckabee and Jindal haven’t even thought about.
I am speaking, of course, about highly realistic synthetic human love dolls.
By any measure, traditional marriage is about to take a hard one on the chin — and not because two guys or two gals are seen engaging in shameless PDA’s like hand-holding, or what we straights sometimes call Mormon First Base. It’ll be a hard right hook arcing up hidden in the blind spot that will lift Conservatives off their heels and rock their world in the very near future, and it will be thrown from the shoulder of highly realistic, animated synthetic human love dolls.
To be clear, I’m not talking about those inflatable plastic balloons that cost $14.95, that sometimes double as a pool toy, and were once ubiquitous in the party pits of frat houses across America — required décor along with black-light posters of chesty Mexican bar maids in embroidered peasant blouses, the omni-present Farah Fawcett poster on the door in the head, pull-tab chains from countless coke cans festooning the overhead pipes and rafters, a beer can pyramid in the corner, a lava lamp next to the turntable, a Zippo® lighter the size of a hard-cover book on the spool table, and spent condoms among the dust bunnies behind the couch.
No, I’m talking about those expensive, high tech love dolls — the kind that cost $12,000 and up. That’s what a new car used to cost not so very long ago. The newest embodiments of plastic gratification that do something more than just vibrate are getting so realistic they can almost pass muster as a bed friend you’ll want to tell your buddies about. And they’re just getting more realistic and more sophisticated with every passing year.
The day is soon coming — the day is well nigh, O Zion — when the new AMC television series ‘HUMANS‘ will be more docu-drama than science fiction and ‘synths’ like Anita and Niska will be commonplace in bachelor pads around the world. Let’s be honest — Anita is a babe, appearance-wise. Niska, too, is a babe. She’s a dangerous murderous babe with the strength of a male chimp and the instincts of a wolverine, to be sure; but fully babe-ified nonetheless. Stupifyingly babe-ilicious.
In real-life, it should be pretty easy to program a realistic response-curve intimacy feedback algorithm (code-named: ++INTIMACY) based on a range of different inputs that generate appropriately-timed declarations, physical contortions, and vocalizations in a high end love doll that are adequately gratifying to the end user. Human sexual response is, after all, not all that much more sophisticated than two Gooney Birds trilling, high-jumping and bobbing their heads up and down in unison, when you really get down to it.
Not to mention that market forces will ensure that synthetic human love doll quality will continue to improve by leaps and bounds, while cost will continue to decrease precipitously, as it does with any high tech product. It’s a sure bet that once the right cost-benefit benchmark is attained, high tech synthetic human love dolls will be found in every every bachelor’s home, as commonplace as cell-phones and cable teevee. The reason is that high-tech synthetic human love dolls offer a number of clear advantages over traditional marriage:
1. Your “partner” is ready whenever you’re ready. Whenever.
2. Foreplay is unnecessary. As in, never necessary.
3. You don’t have to be aware of the time of month.
4. You don’t have to reassure her that you’ll still respect her in the morning.
5. You don’t need birth control.
6. You don’t need to shower and shave.
7. You can fall asleep afterward without any complaint.
8. You can be drunk.
But, beyond all that, there are any number of tedious and/or humiliating social interactions you can avoid with impunity, including:
1. You never have to pass muster with her friends.
2. You don’t have to meet her parents and family.
3. You don’t have to remember birthdays and anniversaries.
4. You don’t have to go shopping.
5. You don’t have to attend her friends’ weddings.
6. You can have your friends over whenever you want for as long as you want.
7. Your partner never gets sick, or old, or anxious, or depressed.
8. Your partner never complains about how much money you make, who your friends are, your family, your softball practices, old flames, etc.
What’s not to like? A highly realistic synthetic human love doll promises something just short of “Guy Paradise” once the cost-benefit crossover point drops down to something like $7500. That’s what makes them so dangerous to traditional marriage. How long will it be before we see celebrity lookalikes? But have Conservatives gone all apoplectic about that? Noooooooooo! Because, as usual, they don’t have a clue about what’s really going on in the real world. All they know about is the Neverworld they believe the world should be. And love dolls aren’t mentioned in the Bible.
Think about it: If you’re a typical guy within the typical demographic age bracket of 25-28 for a Protestant or Jewish first marriage, post-college, with a sh*tload of school debt and a crummy 35K a year job working for some heartless, profiteering insurance company, do you really even want a wife? She’s going to come with all kinds of assumptions and expectations — your money is her money: her money is her money — including a subconscious compulsion to relentlessly peel back the layers of your masculine persona until she can thrust her emotional stinger into the tender living heart of your male psyche like some kind of horrid, soulless, metaphysical wasp. (Watch how she watches you and your mother interact and you’ll know she’s storing up her deadly venom.) But her Uncle Sheldon is promising you 20 G’s if you’ll tie the knot before Thanksgiving. (It has something to do with upstaging her loathsome cousin Roxanne. No one is willing to talk about it until you’re actually “family.”) And meantime, you’ve succumbed to that most powerful of all the Impenetrable Male Delusions — the notion that you’re gonna be getting it regular once you’re hitched. Fool. So what’s a poor dumb schmuck like you gonna do? You were never very smart — but you have needs. Physical needs. And somewhere in the deepest wells of your subconscious a tiny voice echoes like the tinkle of subterranean water droplets plunging into a dark crystalline pool that warns you with metered plaintive syllables that you’re about to get sucked into the vortex of someone else’s life with unwanted mortgages and car payments, vicious kids, and family picnics at her parent’s lake cabin — but very little sex, which is about all you really wanted in the first place.
You go get yourself a synthetic human love doll is what you do, Stan. $7500 pencils-out to just $125 a month based on a 60 month payment plan (at 0% APR), or five years, which is about when the next generation of technology will hit the shelves. Even a debt-laden CLA-degreed chump like you can afford that. If the budget gets tight, start taking the bus. Chances are good you’ll be just as happy with a synthetic and, since there’s always a chance that Miss Thang whom you almost married could’ve gone all Burning Bed on you in a hormone-crazed fit of jealousy, rage and/or paranoia, it’s even possible that buying a synthetic human love doll might save your life. It’s certain to save your male identity from the ravages and damages of constant psycho-emotional battery. And, if nothing else, you can put your dolly in the passenger seat and use the car-pool lane every day. That alone is probably worth the cost.
By the time your first dolly is ready for the recycle bin, your former main squeeze will be pushing the bio-clock close to the end and she might start to see matters ‘twixt you and her in a more favorable light. You might even have a fighting chance at a 50-50 deal if you can keep Uncle Sheldon the hell out of the picture. Maybe he’ll have died by then and you can spend his money freely. She’ll forgive you — it’s all about leveraging your power.
That is, at least until the Fundy Tweekers figure out where the real threat to traditional marriage truly lies. Then all bets for future contentment are off the table.