I'm holding out for a David Duchovny Cabbage patch doll. I think it should come with a pack of Camels and a mocha latte.
By Gina Tron
By Jon Solomon
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Their birthplace was discovered in 1978, when a ten-year-old boy name Xavier Roberts followed a BunnyBee behind a waterfall into a magical valley. There he found them being born and promptly rescued them from the clutches of an evil hag with a jackrabbit henchman who wished to enslave them in a gold mine. If you suffer from a certain type of obsessive-compulsive disorder, you will recognize this barely coherent story as the legend of the Cabbage Patch Kids, and it's just one of the myriad aspects of those long-running dolls that make them the creepiest of children's toys.
I've always felt a vague sense of personal unease around Cabbage Patch dolls; something about their bloated, deformed-looking vinyl heads and gaping stare just makes me feel touched inappropriately inside. So it's been of some comfort to me that their popularity has waned considerably since those early years when hordes of psychotic parents physically fought each other to secure a doll for what I imagine to be their similarly hideous-looking children in time for Christmas 1983. Their last year in the limelight of massive popularity was the 1996 debut of Cabbage Patch Kids Snacktime Kids, which "ate" plastic snacks by way of a pair of one-way, touch-activated metal rollers and were later recalled after a number of children got their hair and fingers caught in the mechanism. Meaning, really, that the last popular Cabbage Patch doll was one that literally ate children. Which is absolutely terrifying.
But even that is hardly half as terrifying as the idea of a Cabbage Patch doll modeled after the likeness of Steven Tyler. In a way, the unholy union between Steven Tyler and the Cabbage Patch Kids sort of makes sense; like his counterparts in the doll world, Steven Tyler is at least in the running for creepiest member of the celebrity world, and watching him perform also makes me feel touched inappropriately. But just because the creepiest person can be made into the creepiest doll doesn't mean he should.
And, sweet Jesus, is that doll ever creepy. The good news, if there is any, is that at least the market won't be flooded with them: The Steven Tyler offering is a one-of-a-kind, special-edition doll being auctioned by the JAKKS Pacific Corporation, Cabbage Patch's parent company, to benefit the Children's Action Network, a charity that works with celebrities to raise awareness of children's issues. Interestingly, as part of the same deal, JAKKS is also offering likenesses of Al Roker, Katherine Heigl, Raven Symone and Kristen Chenoweth — a truly random assortment of celebrities that kind of makes you wonder why Steven Tyler was included on the list at all. My theory: The doll comes with the actual malevolent soul of Steven Tyler, like in Child's Play. I may or may not be correct about that, but given that we're talking about a Cabbage Patch Doll that sports a skull necklace and what appears to be chest hair, the Children's Action Network's mascot might as well be Chucky.
And it never hurts to be on the safe side: If you're the lucky winner of this monstrosity, I recommend you cut it and see if it bleeds.