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 I had to see Barbie. I love Barbieland. That cute pink convertible that fits her like a size 2, her big white teeth, her girlie ways. That lasted for ten minutes. 

Then no more bright, insincere smiles, no more very lightly tanned, hairless skin, no more paper doll hairdos. 

Did the producers rush to their daughters’ Manhattan private schools and hire the sixth graders to write, I mean, create a profoundly meaningful message: be yourself?

Poor Barbie. In her new profundity she looks like the chair of We’re Building Hope for Tomorrow.

Remember James Coburn, the sexy cool actor who had an enchanting grin in every movie? The men in Barbie float through their public humiliation with James Coburn smirks.