My Bernie Madoff fascination has fallen off with the sharpness of Tuesday's Dow. Not only am I bored with the redundant aspects of his perfidy, but the scope of stories grow more sinister and gruesome by the hour. With the second suicide (William Foxton, 65-year-old Order of the British Empire who'd lost an arm in combat, shot himself in the head last Friday) and ripples of ruin made all the more pathetic by emerging facts about Bernie and Ruth and their collusive shenanigans, the soap opera charm has vanished.
Anger is setting in. I'm only angry at Bernie, whose liberal politics were exposed only by my husband, for what he did to others. But his newly-poor victims are justifiably seething for their own and their families' sakes. That's why the big hit (pardon the pun) of the current New York Toy Fair is the "Smash-Me-Bernie" ceramic doll, with its pitchfork-wielding devil's body--that comes with its own mini sledgehammer for that crushing blow. Phoenix's ModelWorks company makes dolls to order with specific likenesses, and when its honcho Graeme Warring made a Bernie in sympathy for a friend's losses, a fad was born.
My only comment about the doll: Bernie's likeness is too complimentary. He looks sweet rather than menacing; youthful rather than worn. His hair is golden, rather than gray and mostly hidden by a dark baseball cap. And while he may appear to be the devil to his investors, his usual black trench coat is just about perfect--the trench, in khaki a businessman's staple, has gone spoiled, rotten.
Yes, I'm finally tired of Bernie. He makes Jews look bad and has turned the norm toward suspicion in a world that could use some honesty and trust. Good riddance to bad rubbish, as they say. But somehow, I don't think I've read the last of him...