"God knows," exploded a member of the London County Council, "why we ever took it on in the first place. The blasted thing's been a target ever since." The blasted thing was London's gleaming statue of Eros, God of Love. Time after time, on nights of revelry in Piccadilly Circus, while lovers ogled each other beneath Eros' outstretched wings, the fire brigade has had to remove hats from the god's wreathed head or frilly unmentionables from his poised limbs.
Last week, while 2,000 votaries shouted encouragement and police yelled threats from below, a plastered plumber named William Painter perched cheerily on Eros'...
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