I don’t know how many times I have tried in vain to describe what I feel for this action hero, this Kennedy-and-California infiltrating Austrian poser how much I admire his bulging ego and his love for animals which is featured too little in the media that seem to focus on the bluest lapis lazuli ever seen on the hand of a manly man, of a terminator no, of The Terminator, The Eraser, the extinguisher of distinguished one-liners, who said cockily once “Luck is for the unprepared” only to raise his rifle again, whip out a mighty machine gun like cream, who walks with more panache than even a Texan, and fathers children like other men pop doping pills.
I’m not saying you should follow me where I’m going with this. I know that I’m rambling, but I’m rambling on behalf of a silent majority that values the body more highly than the brain and isn’t afraid to say so.
But I have reserved my silver bullet for the end: after witnessing what fellow actor James Franco can do with words, Arnie has also taken a pen in his fist, gripped it firmly like a rifle butt and put it to good use by writing a poem on Nanni Moretti. Not a bad one, I hasten to add, and not one of the best poems ever written either. But a solid hommage on this Italian, borrowing strength from Franco’s inauguration intelligence by dropping the names of many artists, and including in a daring feat of novelty the name of a housekeeper who supposedly bore Moretti’s illegitimate child, touchingly not unlike Arnie’s own story. Asked why he chose this improbable target as the subject of his first poetic impulse, Arnie said: it’s not my first, I used to compose verse for my mother while she worked the cash register so that I could pump iron. And also, he added eloquently with a nod of his patrician head and with barely an accent “Io sono un autarchico.” The journalists who were present drooled. Before leaving, Arnie said he was already talking to Woody Allen about playing a gay Austrian-American, black unemployed billionaire ex-actor immigrant who miraculously succeeds against the odds against the establishment while always smiling not ashamed of his crooked teeth, in Allen’s new feature on Vienna and Freud: he loves my accent, Arnie says, and he liked me in Kindergarten Cop and Twins, he really did.
I’m not saying you should follow me where I’m going with this. I know that I’m rambling, but I’m rambling on behalf of a silent majority that values the brain more highly than the body and isn’t afraid to say so.
Note: I wrote this shortly after reading and listening to the inauguration poem “Obama in Asheville” written and performed by James Franco, commissioned by Yahoo. Image: original drawing by ORDENSsekretariat.at distributed via Wikimedia under the terms of the free GNU documentation license. Drawing modified by me.