But we like ALEXANDER, RULER OF THE WORLD's chances of establishing its place atop the pantheon of tackiness: Martini Revolution, who introduced us to the apartment building's fuscia majesty (we're told it pops much more in person), reports that its owner is "not finished" with realizing his vision, leaving us to hope that its roof will one day be covered in at least a dozen 30-foot, hot-pink busts of its conquering namesake, a grace note that should help it virtually erase all memory of the amatuerish statuary at that David-littered dump.

[Note: It's located near the corner of Van Ness and Melrose, should you wish to make a pilgrimage.]

• architectural indigestion [Martini Revolution]

Last May, the Los Angeles Times speculated that after CAA departed, the building would become "the most expensive Beverly Hills office space in memory." A tenant would ante up about $6 million a year—or a pricey $5 a square foot—for this influential address. But no one has stepped up.

The building is owned by Ovitz and erstwhile partners Ron Meyer (the head of Universal Studios), producer Bill Haber, and former CAA Chief Financial Officer Robert Goldman. CAA has rented the building from them since 1995 and—according to at least one source with firsthand knowledge of the situation—is still paying rent.

And the building—with its giant, custom-made Roy Lichtenstein painting still in the lobby—is standing vacant. More than a year ago, the owners hired the Cushman & Wakefield brokerage firm to lease the building. But then, nothing happened. "It's the weirdest thing," says veteran Beverly Hills real estate agent Gary Weiss. "All of us don't understand it."

Maybe it's not so weird after all. The building has a curving facade, and the space inside is idiosyncratic and difficult to reconfigure. With its soaring atrium, a tenant would be paying a lot for space that can't be put to use. When Ovitz was working on the plans, Weiss says, "I don't think they paid much attention to whether it was efficient or not."

Prohibitively high rental costs aside, it seems obvious that another entertainment industry concern would be wary of relocating to the Hollywood equivalent of a cursed Indian burial ground; any cachet gained by being bold enough to take over the iconic space would be instantly offset by the loss of employee morale resulting from spending day after day trying to block out the haunting cries of the countless babies devoured within the building's walls during CAA's tenancy, plaintive wails that its beautiful atrium was specifically designed to amplify to blood-chilling levels.

• The Empty I.M. Pei Building [Slate]