I am now the proud owner of an Aquaframe. An Aquaframe is one of an increasingly diverse line of products which feature little plastic fish which, as if by magic, swim around in a plastic tank. Apparently it has something to do with magnets, although I have seen huge freestanding tube ones which are bubble-powered. I already have a nice model my friend Tinh gave to me a few years ago which has a Captain-Picard’s-quarters globe front. However, when I was offered the latest one I couldn’t resist.
First of all, it comes with eight pieces of gravel, nowhere near enough to cover the bottom of the tank. Each of the little fakey rocks is a different Day-Glo color.
Second, this tank doubles as a picture frame, which makes for more fun by powers of hundreds than my other one, which has a blue sculpted plastic “coral reef” background. The original owner suggested putting in a picture of the desert; I also considered a picture of my dad’s flotilla of pink plastic flamingos, or my favorite picture of my old pal Robert, the one where he’s standing in the air freshener aisle at the local supermarket and holding the six-pack of eggs we bought to christen the microwave we gave Tinh at her wedding shower, smiling through his neat little goatee like a salesman or a maniac. Ultimately, though, I decided to slide the back cover of the liner notes from David Byrne’s album Feelings, the one where he has had his head digitally manipulated so it looks like he’s a molded-plastic Ken-doll, into the photo slot. The fish go round and round jerking their tails awkwardly in front of David Byrne’s smile, and it feels appropriate. Witness:
The kicker, though, is that it’s from the Sharper Image. The company even saw fit to emblazon its logo across the lower right hand corner of the frame. Next time you covet the status symbol of an electric shoe buffer or your own personal Shiatsu massage chair, just remember the Aquaframe and laugh.
I’ll still take a free-standing tube tank, though, if anyone wants to give one up. My quest for kitsch knows no bounds. While I’m at it I should reiterate my call for animatronic kitsch: If you have a spare Big Mouth Billy Bass, Rappin’ Catfish, dancing Coke can, Furby, pot of animatronic daisies, old Teddy Ruxpin, or anything else that has some kind of electronic circuits which make it talk or move, and you’re willing to sacrifice it, send it to me. I’m trying to develop electrical repair and hacking skills, and I’m eager to culture-jam using the most revolting capitalist by-products possible. I’ll post the results, of course.
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