devil doll, or, the ironic uncanny

Music: Synaesthesia: Desideratum (1995)

It's been a nauseating couple of days for all sorts of reasons, some professional, some pollen-related, but nothing cuts through to Little Orphan Annie's mantra than a timely commercial mishap: "Toddler's Elmo Doll Makes Death Threats, Family Says," a write-up featured on Tampa Bay Online. The story is hilarious---I'm laughing so hard it's difficult to type. The situation is certainly funny, but the journalist who penned the piece is genius. Each sentence is crafted in dead-pan seriousness, but with a Swift-like smirk. Choice paragraph:

With a squeeze of its fuzzy belly, the Sesame Street character now says, in a sing-song voice, "Kill James." "It's not something that really you would think would ever come out of a toy," said Melissa Bowman, James' mother. "But once I heard, I was just kind of distraught."

"Kind of distraught" that doll called "Elmo Knows Your Name" is suddenly making death threats to your kid? Oh Jebus: I gave myself an asthma attack laughing so hard.

When I can stop laughing I'm kind of distraught at my own perverse glee: Ok, so why is this so funny? Well, obviously it's the contrast: a sweet, asexual, suggly, soft-bellied "friend" (elmo is Latin for "friendly," as I recall) is now urging the death of its owner. As the proud owner of the original Tickle-Me Elmo doll, I know his voice well and can imagine that wimpy, non-threatening, high-pitched voice saying "kill James!" Yet the humor isn't reducible to irony; it's something about the statement by mom: "I was just kind of distraught." You either are or you are not distraught. Is it possible the uncanny can make us laugh? Perhaps this is an instance of the "ironic uncanny?"