No sooner do we arrive in our new offices across from Hollywood’s storied Chinese Theatre than L.A. considers a crackdown on costumed freaks. Coincidence?
Apparently the gauntlet of dudes and dudesses dressed as superheroes, monsters, Playboy Bunnies and Disney mascots has become a nuisance, and the L.A. City Council is taking up a measure this very day to require day passes for those engaged in this and other forms of “creative expression” on the Walk of Fame.
One imagines that the daily regimen of acquiring a permit merely to charge befuddled tourists for selfies—"Vere are your paperz, Shpiderman?"—would not do much for the dignity of an unlicensed avenger. But as we watch from our windows, we experience an indignity they can only imagine.
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