In California, Descartes sez: "I'm famous, therefore I am."
I-Am-ness is the new political platform in the state that birthed the self-esteem movement and made narcissism a sacrament. Love me, love myself. Angelyne claims to have produced some musical CDs, though I couldn't find any during a quick Internet search. I did come across a video, "Hollywood Angelyne" (1995). But no matter. Substance isn't essential, only style.
"Some people become famous for music, films, TV, sports, whatever," says Angelyne on her Web site. "I became famous for being on billboards."
Angelyne's blow-up-doll looks, her exaggerated sexuality and unapologetic self-worship are custom-made for the moment. You might say, her time has come. Serious debate about the issues that plague California - where, we recall with fear and trembling, all American trends begin - is unlikely to transpire in the 50-odd days remaining before election time.
Meanwhile, we're left instead with what drives the culture. Celebrity. The biggest hype, or in Coleman's case, the smallest tyke. Or, in Schwarzenegger's case - Vell!
Suddenly he's everywhere on the Internet, as sensation-peddlers dig through old photo files. Let's just say he's not well-dressed. He's not dressed at all. No one's eyes are being damaged by the spectacle, but one is mindful that blow-up dolls come in both sexes.
I would be derelict not to mention a few other non-celeb candidates who conceivably may have a clue how to solve California's problems - state Sen. Tom McClintock, who has a record of fighting for fiscal reform; Lt. Gov. Cruz Bustamante, and businessman Bill Simon, who lost to Davis in November. But frankly, my dear, they don't stand a chance. They're nobodies, as unmemorable as Gray Davis' charisma.
In this spoof on the political process, the biggest celebrity wins, which for Davis probably means "hasta la vista, baby."