Archive for polly pocket

the polly pocket theory of time travel

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on January 30, 2009 by eyeoftheisland

remember polly pocket?

that tiny, plastic, asking-to-be-lost-behind-the-couch-and-sucked-up-by-the-vacuum doll whose charming multi-floor house fit comfortably in the front pocket of your oshkosh b’gosh overalls?

of course you do. (boys, too. it wasn’t just pow-pow-powerwheels all the time). aside from the fact that curly blondes have been all over LOST lately, i think our old friend polly might be able to help us out with the time-skipping that’s going on on the island.

i swear this is going somewhere  intelligent.

so for those who don’t know/are pretending not to know, polly pocket’s set-up was something like this:

do they make real houses shaped like hearts?

do they make real houses shaped like hearts?

while it was sometimes fun to let the girls run wild, probably the most fun part of polly pocket was being able to click her circlar feet into the round holes located throughout her bachelorette pad. in retrospect, that doesn’t really sound all that exciting. but, being able to snap polly in to the kitchen and take the whole pocket to a playdate was pretty innovative back in 1991. polly’s a bit different now, but i’ll spare you the details.

for some reason, while i was trying to think about what “the rules” of time travel are on the island, i thought back to my friend polly and the round plastic circle that cements her in place. because, as we’ve seen, only the left-behinds (the 815s, juliet, and the freighter posse) seem to be blipping on the record of time; richard and the others, however, manage to stay put.

what i’m thinking here (yes, the point! it’s near) is that  the others (the natives, presumably) are like polly, locked in to the island, unable to be jerked around from era to era.

the left-behinds, well, they’re like those pollies that we forgot to lock into place. they fall down flights of tiny plastic stairs. they can’t seem to stay in one place. they fall into the cracks of the couch, useless to sensitive six-year-olds who just want to play GODDAMN POLLY POCKET ALREADY!

sorry. that got a little personal. but i think the point here is that there is something (clearly not a round plastic piece glued to their feet) grounding the natives to the island. something that the left-behinds have no knowledge about. not yet at least.

 

too soon?

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