Some say they may have created a Frankenstein monster, a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, a celebrity insider but a political "Other." The man who was one of the "Hollywood us" has morphed into one of the "Washington them." It doesn't make any difference that the candidate holds liberal positions on social issues; he will enhance the power of Republicans if he becomes the governor of California.
The debate in California, such as there is, so far focuses more on which political party will benefit than on what's good for curing what ails California. Perhaps the debate will shed some light on creative solutions as it slouches toward October, but between now and then the California public will have a hard time separating ideas from egos.
Most modern celebrities are famous mostly for being famous. Such fame has little to do with actual achievement but a lot to do with public perception. It's almost impossible in our complex high-tech culture to produce a Renaissance man. There's too much to learn. We run the risk of assuming that the talent someone shows in one ring of the human circus can be transferred to another.
A public performer can be marketed as a political product, but movie talent is not a reliable touchstone for leadership. Ronald Reagan, after all, was a seasoned political performer by the time he tried out for governor.
It's unlikely that we'll learn much from Arnold in a campaign with hundreds of candidates, all trying to make the biggest splash. Splashes are the most temporary of phenomena, never going deep, and there's not enough water in San Francisco Bay to enable the hundreds of candidates to make much of a splash.
The golem, it should be recalled, had many disguises, both human and superhuman. He could fly over houses and race like a robot through town and countryside. But nobody could be sure what he would be at any given moment. Eventually, in attacking his own people, the golem went too far. He had to be stopped. His creator turned him back into clay. Moral, anyone?