Automatonablahblahblah...

You know how good it feels when you've been experiencing a thing in your body that...sort of defies any concise explanation and then you find out there's a word for it? (I'm looking at you, kummerspeck.) A few months ago, I found out one of my major life's discomforts has an actual name. I used to just call it: "You know like when a thing is supposed to be doing human things or looks like it could potentially be doing human things but it's actually just an inanimate object?" (IE wax figures, ventriloquist dummies, anthropomorphic dolls, and my personal least favorite: anamatronics.)

Apparently it's a recognized phobia! Who knew?

Automatonophobia: the fear of anything that falsely represents a sentient being.

Though I don't have a fullblown phobia, it's not hard to pinpoint the source of this discomfort for me.

chucky95201214

Suck my doll wang, tonaphobes!

Having my reading and comprehension levels be out of balance at a young age, I realized what Child's Play was, but not what "horror" meant. Before this moment (dude, I was probably...four? At the seedy video store with my parents getting a Rainbow Brite VHS or some shit) it hadn't occurred to me that dolls could....you know potentially come to life and murder the shit out of you. (Or your babysitter, Marty Maraschino.) It's actually a shame that Chucky ruined my childhood, because I've become really sweet on horror movies in the last few years, and I'm *pretty* sure I'd love this one....if I could bring myself to give it a shot.

With that said, a few things still give me the willies. One year in college, our halloween party was held at Madame Toussaud's in Time's Square. I thought I wasn't going to be able to make it until I found out one of my friends got so drunk he bit Lindsay Lohan's nose off.

My mom also wants to go to Disneyland for her birthday this year, and I'm really stoked about it (DUH) but I could do without all of the robots trying to do human things. (I was looking for one particular picture that I'd seen that made my stomach drop to my toenails, but I can't seem to find it, and I know better than to spook myself like that right before I need to get to sleep.)

In the process of looking for that, I found out that there was once a ride called "The Great Movie Ride" which probably should be called something like the "Good luck controlling your bowels, Mac" ride.

Seriously, if you can make it through the whole flickeriver without wanting to sleep with the lights on for the rest of your life, congrats. You are stronger than I'll ever be. 

Happy sleeping~! (Or not....haha)

-Mac

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