Like any great European city, Dublin has historic architecture, cobble stone streets, and Statue People. If you've ever been to Paris or London or Zurich or wherever, you've seen them. You'll be walking along and suddenly come face to face with a painted figure standing perfectly still atop a box. They are nearly always monochromatic -- one color from hair to toe, including face and eyelids. There is, of course, a coin box in front of them. You put a coin in the box and they will move for you. That's it. You pay them and they move their arms and maybe smile at you or do something more...sinister. But I'm getting ahead.
In America, I've never seen a true Statue Person. I saw a Gold Guy once at Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, but I remember him sorta chasing people around. Also he wasn't classy -- the Statue People in Europe have a strange dignity about them. Then there's Naked Cowboy in New York, who moves and makes noise: both against Statue People regulations. In Chicago, I've never seen anything even approximating Statue People. Hunted to extinction, likely.
Anyway. Dublin. Grafton Street. Major pedestrian shopping thoroughfare. No cars allowed. Natural habitat for Statue People. On Grafton Street alone, which can't be more than a half mile in length, you can find three or four Statue People, not including the Old Gold Guy (not to be confused with the SF Gold Guy, the Old Gold Guy has bells on his feet and a fake gold dog and jingles his bells to recorded music, but this is not his story).
The thing about Statue People is the stillness. People who don't move are creepy. It's unnatural to look at someone that's not moving. Is he dead? No, he's standing! Is he ill? You want to poke him. 'Why the #%@! don't you move?' This is why we pay them: we want them to end their hideous stillness. It's also why Statue People generally smile at you when they've been paid: it's a re-assurance that all is well, that it's just a joke this not moving.
The main Statue People on Grafton Street are: 1) Goldilocks; 2) the Chameleon; and 3) End of Days.
Goldilocks is a man, I think, but dresses like a female angel. He/she is a rather ugly angel, even painted, even when he/she is putting on what he/she thinks is a beatific angel expression. God did not make all Statue People equal. He/she uses two different wigs, depending on the day. I have not dropped any coins into Goldilocks' box. I'm not sure anybody else has either because I've never seen him/her move except the day that I saw he/she setting up his/her little platform.
The Chameleon is a guy who dresses kind of like a wizard or maybe it's some low-level religous garb like a prefect or something. Is a prefect religous? Maybe that's an 18th century mayor. Look -- the Chameleon wears some cloth robe thing that's twirled all around him and a semi-pointed hat. Sometimes he's all white, then he'll be all yellow, and he was blue or red or orange the other day, too. His standstill isn't that great, and this makes him less creepy. I've found his movements fairly yawn-inspiring when I've seen him get a coin. I've never dropped a coin in his box, either.
Then there's End of Days. Excuse me while I change my trousers. This is End of Days.

It's difficult to see in this webbed down image, but he's staring at me (holding the camera). What you also can't see from the image, is that he continued to stare at me as I walked away. Here's one thing about End of Days: he can follow you with his baselisk stare without moving his head or his eyes. He's got this way of rotating his whole body so that he can follow you, but still be still as a Statue. It's freaky, let me tell you, especially when his red-tinted eyes are boring into your soul like red hot pokers.
When I first saw him, I was like, Wow! Check out that guy! He's like seven feet tall without his pedestal! Then I took out my camera to take this shot. When I put the camera down, I was feeling in my pocket for some change to give him, but there was a crush of people between me and him so I started moving down Grafton Street again. But I felt a chill come over me and it felt like End of Days was right behind me. I looked and saw he was following me with his hard gaze, and I heard a deep voice in my mind:
Lo! And I saw when he opened the sixth seal, and there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth, and the whole moon became as blood ...
I would have fled in panic, but his eyes! his Sith eyes! Like a tractor beam, they pulled me back.
I dropped a one-Euro coin into his box. And then he raised this ornate club/scepter thing he wields, and I thought he would strike me down and take me with him back to Hell. He whipped the scepter around in a couple of circles and then brought it straight at my forehead: the death blow. Then he tapped my head with it and gave me a little sheet of paper that I saw later said something about the value of giving, but I was too busy seeing my life flash before me to know it then.
End of Days. Watch out for him.
Now when going down Grafton Street, I always walk behind him.