The 2003 Guber natorial recall campaign in California was a perfect political storm. The extraordinary result—the democratic removal of a sitting governor before his term expired (for the first time in California history and the second time in United States history) and his replacement by a bodybuilder turned movie star with not the slightest governmental experience—depended on the improbable conjuncture of several factors, each pretty odd in itself: the special severity with which the Bush recession hit the California economy, largely because of the latter's unusual dependence on high-tech corporations; the California power crisis engineered by Enron and other denizens of the Houston energy industry; the astonishing charmlessness of Governor Gray Davis, whose political career had been based not on attracting strong loyalty or admiration but on fund-raising, negative campaigning, and convincing core Democratic constituencies that he was marginally less repellant than Republican alternatives; the willingness of the multimillionaire United States congressman Daryl Issa to spend two million dollars of his own money to get the recall on the ballot in the first place; and, of course, the overwhelming star power of Arnold Schwarzenegger. One might suppose that the evident contingency of the whole matter precludes finding historical importance in it. It is after all possible, even likely, in what Guy Debord brilliantly analyzed as la société du spectacle, for an event to be sensational without being tremendously significant.