I’d like to go on the record to register my astonishment at how much discussion the RoboCop statue question has engendered hereabouts, but I really shouldn’t be too surprised — this is exactly the sort of topic for which talk radio, blogs and newspaper columns were invented, the equivalent of a bag of potato chips.
It all started when the mayor’s staff, in responding to a tweet, nixed the idea of a permanent RoboCop, and from there, the internet swung into action. It took just six days to raise $50,000 via Kickstarter, which should be more than enough to pay an artist’s foundry bill and stick him somewhere on the riverfront. As for all the arguments against, which boil down to It’s Not Serious and There’s a Better Way to Spend $50K, I say (shrug).
My thinking may have been influenced by a weekend in lovely Milwaukee last year, where you’ll recall I met yet another fictional character who lived in a real city, represented in statue form:
The Bronze Fonz stands there all day, offering photo ops for all. Fun fact: Sylvester Stallone funded his own Rocky statue, and was miffed when the Philadelphia art museum refused to place it at the top of the steps.
Of course, if it were up to me, I’d add ED-209…
…as a salute to the glitches in all of us.
For what it’s worth, I recall liking that movie. It had the usual ridiculous Paul Verhoeven ultra-violence, and a coke-fueled cynicism that will always be associated with the Reagan administration, in my memory. Peter Weller carries the lead role acting mainly with his mouth, an impressive achievement. There’s a show that seems to be playing on all background TVs throughout, called “I’d Buy THAT for a Dollar!” I want to see that show someday. As for Detroit being the model for our dystopian future, I remind you the film was shot almost entirely in Dallas.
So, who watched “Jeopardy!” this week? I didn’t see all three nights of Watson’s triumph, but I saw enough. The revelation, for me, was in how much we need more carbon-based life forms like Ken Jennings. I’d forgotten how much I missed him — a guy who wears celebrity lightly and always keeps his sense of humor, proof that fame doesn’t turn everyone into Sarah Palin.
The new governor of Ohio — not a Sarah Palin, but a cocky shit in his own right — stepped in it recently, calling a Columbus police officer who issued him a ticket an “idiot” in a public forum. Because I believe police are entirely capable of being idiots just like the rest of us, I watched the dashboard video of the stop. Didn’t see anything idiotic going on. I’d forgotten those Columbus P.D. uniforms, with the white shirts and hats. There was a story a few years back about a couple of Columbus cops doing something heroic — I forget what. They were photographed sometime after the heroism, and were cited by supervisors for not wearing their hats, as per department policy. Now that’s idiocy, guv’nor. Just so’s you know.
So, this has been something of a meander today, eh? Any more bloggage? A little:
The Amish Bernie Madoff. Priceless.
Come the revolution, I hope women like this are sentenced to life in Carhartt coveralls:
After Ana Pettus, a 42-year-old mother who lives in Dallas, watched a gold minidress with a plunging, fringed V-neck go down the runway at the Balmain show in Paris last year, she knew she had to have it. She bought the piece—she wears it as a tunic instead of a dress—along with three others from the fall 2010 collection at the Paris boutique of the luxury French fashion house. Price tag: €55,150, or about $74,000.
Fashion weeks in New York, Paris and Milan generate a tremendous amount of press and buzz for some of the world’s most expensive clothes. But many of the runway styles are actually purchased by a small group of customers, not all of them from the isle of Manhattan. And unlike celebrities and socialites, who often get designer clothes at no charge in exchange for publicity, these customers pay full price.
Things not to do when you’re pulled over on suspicion of drunken driving: Start drinking from a bottle of scotch and play the “don’t you know who I am?” card. Adios, Miguel Cabrera.
And adios to you, too. Have a great Thursday.