I’ve been visiting the DIA since my days at Montessori school, but I’ve found that my ongoing study of history adds another dimension to the art and artifacts on display. Two weeks ago, for example, I had to read a few excerpts from the Roman Emperor Augustus’ Res Gestae.

Imagine my surprise when I ran into Rome’s First Citizen last night:

His nose destroyed by a unfortunate plastic surgery addiction, Augustus would only appear before the Senate wearing a surgical mask

A 3-D film installation entitled “plant” was the main reason we made the trip. I won’t try to describe it in detail (it was pretty bizarre), but essentially, its creators took thousands of photos of the decaying Packard plant and used them to build some rather trippy digital composites.

I’m not an art critic, but I did appreciate the very strange work. I think.

As a lifetime Metro Detroiter, I know what the Packard plant once was; that historical concept shapes the way that I view it today.

But imagine that you lacked any knowledge of Detroit’s history–there is little or nothing about the Packard plant’s ruins that might inform you of its past. All of the machinery is gone; even the Packard signage has been ripped from the building. “plant” is disorienting enough to destroy that context and force viewers to contemplate the ruins on their own.

Another interesting note–I spent some time at the Bentley Historical Library on Thursday. I’m investigating the origins of Detroit’s cultural institutions for my history colloquium paper (it’s intended to be a sort of “senior project” that takes an entire semester to research and write).

So what was I examining Thursday? Original plans for the DIA and Detroit’s Cultural Center. Pretty cool.

I mingled with the crowd queued for tickets between classes this morning. At 10AM, there were hundreds of students still lined up alongside the Michigan Union. Many were wrapped in blankets; they had been there since dawn or earlier.

It's like a Star Wars premiere for Obama geeks

The masses were enthusiastic, to say the least. Even the passers by wanted to participate in the madness. I stopped to snap a few photos, and when I turned to walk away, I saw that there were six or seven others doing the same.

I won’t be at the speech tomorrow. Though I do wish that I could attend, I have a sneaking suspicion that the event will be as substance-free as his previous U-M appearance – the Class of 2010 commencement ceremony.

It will likely go something like this:

Obama will emerge, rock star like, to thunderous applause. He will utter some bland truisms  (about creating affordable educational opportunities for all Americans, or the need to prepare our workforce for 21st century global competition, most likely) before jetting off to who knows where. Several thousand students will be left with a warm glow and some empty rhetoric to use in their Facebook status updates.

If anyone expects Obama to present substantive policy solutions to higher education’s myriad problems, they will more than likely be disappointed. But that’s not why students lined up in the cold for a shot tickets.

To many on campus, Obama is a celebrity first and a President second. And like fans of a rock star or actor, Obama’s supporters seem content to merely spend an hour or so in the company of His Eminence. Observers would be wise not to mistake this adoration for real political awareness.

The 2012 North American International Auto Show was more than a razzle-dazzle display of sheet metal: it was a testament to optimism. Pundits, industry leaders, and politicians alike were quick to boast of Detroit’s roaring recovery. The oft-repeated narrative was one of relentless positivity. The Big Three had returned from the brink stronger than ever; the Motor City (and the economy of Michigan as a whole) was on the road to recovery.

It’s a lovely sentiment–one I certainly wish that I could buy into without reservation. But although surging auto sales figures seem to lend some credence to this most recent wave of enthusiasm, there is little evidence to suggest that the destructive mentality that spurred the decades-long decline of Midwestern industry has been vanquished. I’m referring to the tendency to take entrepreneurs, businessmen, and industry leaders–and the jobs and wealth they provide–for granted.

Believe it or not, this wasn't already there when Cadillac showed up

Take, for example, one of Detroit Mayor Dave Bing’s proposals intended to improve the city’s bleak fiscal situation. Despite a personal income surtax (levied on both Detroit residents and those who merely work in the city) and property taxes that are already among the highest in the state, Bing wants to nearly double the city’ corporate income tax. That proposed increase might not seem like much on paper (the rate would climb from 1 percent to 1.9 percent) but it betrays a fundamental ignorance of Detroit’s history, its downfall, and the only viable route to its recovery.

Detroit is having a difficult enough time attracting business already. Corporations certainly aren’t moving into the city because of its honest government and world-class public services. An up-and-coming entrepreneur could easily rent office space in one of Detroit’s suburbs, raise a family in a safe suburban neighborhood, and never have to wrestle with Detroit’s incompetent bureaucracy. Many do precisely that. Bing’s business-stifling proposal would do nothing to reverse the trend.

More surprising, and disappointing, is businessman-turned Governor Rick Synder’s mixed performance as Michigan’s executive. His efforts to streamline business taxes and shore up the state’s finances have begun to yield results, but his reforms do not go far enough.

Snyder has repeatedly shut down talk of real, statewide labor reform, which must necessarily include the passage of right-to-work legislation. Michigan’s lack of action will prove a boon to other states, and not just those in the business-friendly South. While Snyder tinkers with roads and bridges, Indiana Governor Mitch Daniels has organized support for a controversial right-to-work bill. Though infrastructure is important, Daniels’ legislative priorities demonstrate his willingness to do what is right for his state despite the political headwinds.

Daniels seems to understand that no city, state, or region can lay perpetual claim to an industry. Economic and political incentives matter. The entrepreneurs that built Detroit and made Michigan a model of modern prosperity are not tied to this geographical area by duty or necessity. Once the populace began to take our industry for granted, it began to migrate to more business-friendly climes. Though Ford, General Motors, Chrysler, and their innumerable suppliers maintain a corporate presence in Michigan, much of their production has been moved to other states or countries with more competitive taxes, regulations, and labor policies.

Entrepreneurs and businessmen are as prone to personal and professional folly as anyone else; they are not the godlike übermensch of an Ayn Rand novel. But while we don’t need to deify industrialists, we cannot continue to treat them as an ever-present force of nature that will continue to produce wealth no matter how heavy the burden of taxation, legislation, or regulation. They will eventually take their toys (not to mention their capital and expertise) and play somewhere else. In Michigan’s case, many already have. And rightfully so.

We have the power to make the optimism that characterized the Auto Show both meaningful and enduring, but only if we do what is necessary to welcome business leaders–and the wealth they produce–back to our state.

Yes, they aim to have us live in a picture-perfect land of forced electrification, where even our “other” cars and trucks would get 70+ mpg while emitting only a faint whiff of espresso, complete with all the visceral appeal of a three-day-old scone, and costing so damn much that no one in their right mind will want to pay for them.

Oh, but wouldn’t our valley be green and great?

No, not really, but then again that’s beside the point. Anyone still operating under the assumption that the politicos in Washington actually have the country’s best interests in mind, well, to say you have another thing coming would be the understatement of the year.

The proles will love these things–not that they'll have a choice

He also raises the matter of UAW President Bob King’s support of the CAFE standard increase. I also called out King’s bizarre reasoning in my bit on CAFE standards; it’s nice to know I’m at least on the same wavelength as pundits with far more industry experience:

And then there was the UAW’s own Bob “King of Delusion” King, who made a complete fool of himself by suggesting that the stringent fuel mileage regulations would ultimately create thousands of jobs for his mired-on-life-support union, when every single reasoned assessment of what would really happen pointed to the contrary.

I doubt that any of our enlightened elites are listening to De Lorenzo – as he points out, they’ve already made up their minds. But if you can spare a few minutes, check out the whole rant at Autoextremist. It’s nothing if not cathartic.

University of Michigan President Mary Sue Coleman spent $59,553 on travel and $70,593 on meals during the 2010 calendar year, according to a report by the Detroit Free Press. It is inevitable for a university president to accrue substantial expenses while conducting official business. Yet Coleman’s $130,146 in spending seems all the more extravagant when it is compared to that of other university presidents.

A look at the expense reports of other in-state university presidents provides some perspective: the heads of Oakland and Wayne State Universities both spent around $20,000 during the same period, and Michigan State’s president spent a little over $15,000. President Coleman accrued more than double the amount of those three other presidents – combined.

You can read the rest of the editorial at the Michigan Review.

Coleman justifies her ceaseless globetrotting by claiming is done for the good of the University – international fundraising, you see. In her comments, she even manages to work in a jab at Snyder and his budget cuts, stating that they made such fundraising more necessary than ever before.

Coleman’s travel is an indulgence in an age of supposedly shared sacrifice. But like other members of the progressive elite, Coleman seems is quite content to crisscross the globe on someone else’s dime while problems at home languish.

We’ve seen that our heavily-credentialed ruling class is quite capable at racking up frequent flyer miles. They’ve yet to prove that their costly cosmopolitanism is a benefit to anyone other than themselves.

A central banking system might use its political influence to strangle mainstreet and enrich its Wall Street cronies? Poppycock!

No matter that their criticisms of the Federal Reserve–that it completely failed in its stated objectives while enabling both wanton government spending and empowering special interests–have been borne out by history time and time again.

The only thing stable about the dollar is its constant devaluation

But the most recent round of global economic turmoil has called more attention to Fed practices, and the unfolding Eurozone trainwreck certainly hasn’t bolstered skeptics’ faith in central banking. A brief but illuminating post at Zero Hedge provides critics with yet another round of anti-Fed ammo: this chart.

Larger, zoomable chart here

The chart shows banking crises from 1810 to 2010 as a percentage of world GDP “in crisis.” Note that the frequency of the crises remained relatively unchanged after the establishment of the Fed in 1913–but the intensity (as shown by the percentage of world GDP in crisis) increased.

Interesting.

Of course, I can think of a couple of caveats off the top of my head. For one, statistics have improved dramatically since the 19th century; I am not sure how sound GDP figures were gathered for any time before the 1930s, when the concept of GDP was developed.

More importantly, though, the map measures crises in terms of percentage of world GDP; it stands to reason that the percentage “in crisis” at any given moment is liable to increase as global trade ties the economic welfare of distant countries ever closer together.

Then again, nearly all countries represented here have modern central banks, which were supposed to fix the problem of crises in the first place.

I basically came into this world backed up by a sick party mix

So long as you were born after mid-1958, you too can discover what was popular when you made your grand entrance. Just go here and hit “View Chart Archives.”

If nothing else, you just found yourself a theme song. Mileage may vary; you’re basically walking on a minefield if you were born after the mid-80s.

Been real busy with Michigan Review content and more over the past few days, so keep an eye out for:

- Auto show coverage with an focus on cars for first-time buyers.

- Column on entrepreneurship and the future of Michigan.

- Michigan Review editorial on U-M President Coleman’s recent travel expenses. Hint: they’re higher than any other university president in the state.

- Breakdown of my Monster Jam experience. It was everything I dreamed it would be. And more. I also got some great pictures. Sneak peak:

Full. Throttle.

Yet when Kodak filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy this Thursday, people took notice.

Some brands, like Kodak, have become a part of our national identity. We don’t want to see them disappear.

Thanks, Paul, for forever planting this aged photographic medium in my mind

Perhaps Kodak can beat the odds and emerge from its Chapter 11 proceedings leaner, meaner, and more ready than ever to prosper in the digital age. Perhaps Kodak will die, leaving its profitable divisions to be snapped up by competitors.

No matter the outcome, we should set aside our collective attachment to an iconic brand long enough to behold the process of creative destruction in action.

To be sure, the phrase “creative destruction” sounds scary–especially to Kodak’s employees, who may soon find themselves back on the job market. But the concept, popularized by the Austrian-born economist Joseph Schumpeter, explains the ongoing process of economic and technological progress.

Yes, there are going to be dislocations when a superior technology enters the market–that’s the “destruction” part–but only because that creative new technology improves the lives of the consumers who decide to purchase it.

How many of us lament the disappearance of the typewriter? The telegraph? The horseshoe industry? The decline and fall of Kodak is fundamentally no different.

The power of the market did take our Kodachrome away (and may yet bury the Kodak brand entirely), but only because entrepreneurs offered consumers better alternatives. The George Eastmans of the past were not singular figures; a new generation of technological and entrepreneurial pioneers has developed products that improve our lives despite the ever-increasing number of hurdles big government has placed in its path.

Today, even relatively disposable smartphones contain cameras that would have cost thousands of dollars a decade ago. There are downloadable apps designed give your cutting-edge digital photos a filmlike glow. You can even use the built-in mp3 player to listen to Paul Simon as you snap away.

We may have lost a few household brand names on the road from Brownie to iPhone, but even the most conscientious consumer has enjoyed unimaginable benefits as a result of the journey.

It certainly sounds like a scenario from George Orwell’s 1984, which was set in a late-20th century totalitarian dystopia. Yet for a group of New Jersey students, it isn’t fiction.

A picture like this is obligatory in every piece about child obesity

One would expect such a monitoring program to be optional. It might even be helpful. Parents could opt into the program to monitor the health of their child. Kids might even embrace it as a fun experiment – a cool, digital way of monitoring physical activity and promoting good health.

But parents were never given the option of participation. From the article:

“I didn’t even know it was going on, and I’m active in the school,” said Beth Huebner, of St. Louis.

Her son, a fourth-grader, wore a Polar Active monitor in class without her OK last fall at Ross Elementary School.

“We have gotten no information about the Web-site security or where the data will go,” Huebner said.

While this case should be troubling to concerned parents and liberty advocates alike, it is only one of a growing number of offenses committed in the name of the War on Obesity. Last year, for example, an Ohio mother lost custody of her obese son.

Proponents of such policies believe that intrusive nanny state policies are entirely justified, especially when it comes to minors. It takes a village to raise a child, they explain.

But under the nanny state, we’re all children of a paternalistic government. If the state can compel children to wear digital health monitors, can it not do the same for adults? Can the state mandate exercise regimens for those deemed unhealthy? Can it force us to eat broccoli?

Making personal health a government concern opens the door to ever more intrusive laws, mandates, and regulations. Such intervention is both inevitable and justified once the cost of healthcare becomes collectivized.

After all, it takes a village to pay for socialized medicine.