Sunday, September 30, 2007

America's Next Mediocre Model

Aaahhh...there's nothing so comforting as the newest cycle of America's Next Top Model. I've thought long and hard about why this show fascinates me to the degree it does--it's the combination of Tyra Banks (who is like Oprah before she sold her soul), the usual judging panel (Twiggy, Nigel Barker, Ms. Jay, and a guest judge), and Jay Manuel, the director of the girls photo shoots. I've come to know all of them over the past 4 years and I can expect certain things. The lynch-pin--that uncontrollable factor--is always the new crop of girls rollin' in off the farm, hopin' to be the next, biggest model, like, ever.

This season, I have to admit, I'm not impressed--but I never am until after the make-over show. They all look like know-nothing Barbies who wanna make it big juxtaposing their awkwardly spindly arms and legs and pouting their lips. And they're bitchy.

But this season, there's yet another twist that I'm not sure I'm down with. Ironically, Heather, one of the contestants who actually shows evidence of synaptic activity and thereby sets herself apart from the pack, has Asperger's Syndrome (a mild form of autism). I only mention it because it's been mentioned about 7,000 times in the first two episodes. In what seems to be an odd, possibly damaging move, Tyra has trotted this fact out to everybody who will listen to her. Personally, from what I see, this girl acts just as bizarrely as the rest of the house. However, tonight (which was a replay of Wednesday's new episode), the audience saw a montage of groups of girls talking about how they think Heather is 1) weird 2) not clean 3) too clingy 4) antisocial...basically, you name it and poor Heather is guilty of it. Meanwhile, this girl, who I don't doubt deals with this on a daily basis appears alone and without any kind of support network in the house except for a girl from Cornell (or is it Columbia...who cares--she's a model) who actually has a brain. What makes it worse is that it's a self-reproducing system. The more the girls talk about how weird she is because she's always alone, the more they won't hang out with her. AAAAHHHH!!! This season the show has a "the worst sorority ever" vibe. More than any other season, this group of girls has manifested a blatant cruelty about them that hinges on Heather's "achilles heel". I'm hoping for the ever-entertaining Tyra smackdown.

For a competition show, I question whether this information was essential to everyone in the house. In previous cycles, Mercedes hid Lyme disease almost until the finals, Rebecca had some kind of nervous system dysfunction that caused her to black out, and Michelle contracted impetigo which, before it was diagnosed, the girls in the house "assumed" was a strain of flesh-eating bacteria. Cassie even admitted to being bulemic...and liking it. Even in those cycles, this information came out organically well into the competition and it still did not bode well for the sufferers. So I feel like poor Heather has been set up to fail. To her credit, she seems to be keepin' on, rocking it out this week in a bizarre anti-smoking photoshoot and getting called first (which means she did the best). So there, rest of the house--y'all can suck it.

Thank god they sent Mila packing. Ten minutes into this show, she was talking about her strategy to win the competition. "I think if I just think about the positive, the bad will go away." On top of that, I think she looked weird (a comment I can make because of the platform of this show) All of which made me think, "Oh, she's got to go." Thankfully, I've been watching long enough that Tyra heard me and responded in kind.

Friday, September 28, 2007

Social Experiments...No. Social Exploitation...Yes.

I've been annoyed in the past couple weeks at the categorization of shows like Kid Nation and Beauty and the Geek as "interesting social experiments." These are NOT social experiments; experiments have some method, a sense of ethical grounding, and an outcome of furthering our understanding of something. Let's call them as they are: Lame attempts by morally wayward television networks to play up fabricated, stressful, and often exploitative social environments in such a way that seems socially relevant. The only relevance is that the networks somehow assume that we'll take these to be as "interesting" as they do. Let's deconstruct both so that you can decide for yourself, shall we:

Kid Nation is CBS's brainchild. A show that transplants 40 kids, ranging in age from 8-15, in a deserted "Western Town" to "see what they'll do." I object on several levels, but most of all on the fact that "see what they'll do" has been obviously directed by creating a Survivor-like game that further splits the group into "tribes" who competes to see who gets to be what class for that week. The winners call the shots, while the losers basically become the slaves, cleaning the latrines and doing the other unsavory work. Lord of the Flies this is not. By virtue of "the game," the kids automatically fall into a very clear hierarchy of status, basically dictating the ways in which the winners will treat the losers. Just to add a little something extra, a town council--4 "very special" children chosen by CBS for their "leadership abilities" get to award a gold star (literally a gold block worth it's weight--$20,000--to the best kid.) So, we now must consider the rift that this individual prize can inflict on the tribes. SUMMARY: To ensure this group of kids is really rotten to each other, all of their social interactions have been dictated by an economic class structure imposed on them, which ultimately will mean kids crying and in pain on television for the whole country to watch. Well done, CBS--I didn't think we could sink any lower than the race-divided Survivor season, but I think we've achieved that here.

Not to be outdone, another fine season of Beauty and the Geek premiered last week on the CW.
As the graphic shows, this fine offering by none other than executive producer Ashton Kutcher, pairs nerdy guys (self titled) with hot-but-stupid girls. The idea is to see who can win the prize at the end by employing savvy teamwork (anytime thinking is involved, the geek's the go to guy; if the challenge involves waxing of any sort, the beauty's up to bat). Again, this is only a social experiment if we are learning something and, alas, we're actually getting stupider watching this show. More disturbing, these qualities are treated as essentials so that all the girls are assumed to be dumb, and play the role well, while the guys couldn't be more socially awkward. Watching this show makes it impossible not to laugh at and not with the boys, which makes it no better than Kid Nation. You just get the sense that somehow the boys think they'll now be cool for having been on this show--that it will change something for them socially. It doesn't. The girls still think they're disgusting.

This is my point of departure from the "social experiment" nomenclature. Nothing learned, nothing gained, and in fact, our own ideas about these social labels only become more embedded--more condoned--than ever before. What I really don't like about these shows that I feel is different from other reality-show games is that the intention is to exploit how socially unknowing these people are. It's as heartbreaking, sometimes, as watching the Average Joe finale--another great example of taking advantage of someone on tv.

And that's exactly what this is: Dangling a modest amount of money at groups of people who need something (kids who need the money for their families or guys who need the money to feel like they're socially acceptable) and then asking them to debase themselves for the whole country to laugh at...it's not cool. And it's certainly not a social experiment. I happen to be in the business of social experiments and I can tell you without doubt that this is very simply and clearly exploitation. The problem is, that word is just so hard to make look good on a commercial or on a billboard.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Kenneth, Where Have You Been All My Life?

I'm not proud to admit that before the Emmy's this year, I really gave Tina Fey's 30 Rock no notice. It wasn't a purposeful neglecting...it was merely a show that fell on a historically bad tv night for me (Thursdays...on which I always have class for 4 hours). But the fact that they were awarded an Emmy made me think that maybe it was time to pay the good folks over at the sitcom about SNL (basically) some attention. So last night, armed with a little sauvingnon blanc and a towel (as it was 90 degrees here) I sat in front of my computer and watched nearly 5 hours of full episodes on line starting at the beginning. And it was good.

This, like The Office, took a little time to catch on probably because it's SO smart that most people don't get it. Tina Fey's Liz Lemon is endearing and real in a world that is built to make money. I'm guessing most of Fey's greatness both in this part and in the writing comes directly from her experience as head writer at SNL--I believed the relationships shown on screen. Alec Baldwin is always a tour de force and he doesn't disappoint here as the corporate-loving executive producer of the show. I was most worried about the Tracy Morgan (on the show Tracy Jordan) part simply because I never warmed to Morgan when he was on SNL. Again, I was surprised--he's incredibly nuanced playing a character that serpentines between hardcore insanity (literally mental illness) and tender moments of lucidity. He's a much better actor in this format than he was in a sketch comedy format.

All of this is great, but Kenneth steals this show. Jack McBrayer brilliantly plays Kenneth the Page, the NBC go-fer for the show. His sweet naivete in the midst of this zany but deeply smart, often sarcastic, writers room scenario provides the perfect foil; his wide-eyed enthusiasm for "the business" that leaves bitter, washed-up stars in its wake keeps things fresh and new--and hysterical. Truth be told, I love Kenneth and and I think he plays a hugely important role in the success of this show.

My only disappointment in this whole thing is Jane Krakowski, replacing one of my SNL favorites Rachel Dratch, as the campy star-now-second-banana to Tracy Jordan. She's had great moments in the sun, including her entire run on Ally McBeal, but sadly times have changed and her character--the one she plays on every show--doesn't. It's the same old, one-dimensional blonde bimbo. Meanwhile, Dratch is making the most of her small character guest spots (the granola-eating cat trainer, the Latina maid hiding in the closet on a stolen yacht) but it still feels like too little compensation for being passed-over for what was her and now is Krakowski's role. Dratch could have given it a lot more.

Otherwise, I've concluded that 30 Rock is, indeed, "must see tv" on Thursday nights and, despite my class schedule, the VCRs warmed up and ready to the task. Watch it. It's good.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Tim Gunn is da Man

For those of us who ADORE Stacey and Clinton on TLC's What Not to Wear, the Bravo show Tim Gunn's Guide To Style may have seemed like television plagiarism. On WNTW, rapier-witted Stacey London and cute and compassionate (and very tall) Clinton Kelly, both stylists, spend an hour transforming a fashion dimwit into a new, sleeker fashion self. Touting the fashion adages of "great fit" and "silhouette," Stacey and Clinton have wracked up seasons of wins--I've never watched a show that ended up badly. The ugly duckling always looks like a swan at the end, even if the process has proven obnoxious. To help with the new look, Nick Arrojo recreates the hair (which can be and usually is the most dramatic part of the show) and make-up artist Carmindy, somewhat dimwitted herself, helps to complete the transformation.

Compare this to TGGTS: Tim, former artistic director at Parson's School of Design and a break-out fan favorite on Bravo's Project Runway, and famous supermodel Veronica Webb help transform a fashion misfit into a fashion maven by 1) ransacking the misfit's closet 2) rummaging through the underwear drawer 3) sending them out with rules to follow in picking up a 10-piece "core" of the new wardrobe 4) getting them new hair and make-up and 5) finishing off with an exciting "reveal." I watched one show partially and turned it off, spurning the obvious copying of WNTW, a show for which I have undying love.

BUT

Upon another viewing, I think TGGTS actually offers some unique qualities to fashion reality-tv that are both entertaining and, dare I say, heartwarming. I could go into very serious detail, but it all comes down to the person of Tim Gunn and what a one-of-a-kind eclectic bird he is. I grew to love Tim on Project Runway because he's a perfect mix of critical eye, fashion snob, with a compassionate heart, and a great sense of humor. Tim's a teacher...but one who practices tough love. He is a rare bird--and I think I might mean literally because he does kinda strike me as a bird (shrug...I don't know)

So here's why everyone should give this show a chance:
Tim Gunn is funny pulling out phrases like "it's the slobbification of America" and my personal favorite, in critiquing an oddly patterned dress, "it looks like it came straight out of the vomitorium." The best part is that it appears he's slapping the wrists of the horrible designers of such fashion horrors and not the suckers who just think they're looking good in flared camouflage cargo capris.
Veronica Webb is a great 2nd Unlike WNTW, Veronica is neither a stylist or a designer; she's just a wearer of clothes (albeit a model) but she presents this very mother-like quality that's comforting. She does a lot of shopping with the misfit which clearly comforts them but allows the misfit to build on some guidance and not just have it be a game.
There are lots of famous names. It's clear that Tim Gunn doesn't mess around with up-and-comers. He, with his impeccable taste, teaches the misfit himself, they go shopping with Verionica, he calls in a lot of designer friends to provide beautiful clothes to fit every misfit that has appear and hair is done by none other than Frederic Fekkai. This is varsity WNTW and it's fun.

Bottom line: there is a distinct place for both these shows. Though they follow the same formula, they're distinct and accomplish different things for the mostly women who participate. Check it out. It's worth it.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Top Chef--The End Is Near

Thanks to the fact that Bravo reruns Top Chef episodes hourly, I was able to catch the next episode which is the last from the finale. Frankly, I'm still reeling from the fact that CJ was ceremoniously showed the door a couple weeks ago; with him exited my own personal choice for the winner. CJ not only made beautiful food (which I can only assume smelled and tasted delicious) but he was awfully cute and incredibly tall. As a character on an unscripted, competition-based show, CJ was one of my favorite people by far. Anyway, CJs gone and I'm trying to get over it.

So who's left. Hung who possesses in his being the heart of darkness. Casey who's the pretty home-town Texas girl with no classical training. Dale the Chicago, supposedly "edgy" gay chef (we know because he's reminded us hundreds of times) who contributes...well, I'm not sure. It always seems like he should be better than he is. Brian, the chef who only makes fish and generally makes it mediocre...and who's basically a tool. And Sara who is a cheese chef and not really up to snuff.

Here's the problem with this show as I see it at this point: It's boring and not in any way a run for Top Chef. Every week looks more like, "Who sucked bad enough to go home." This week Sara was the one who bit it (for serving raw chicken to the major deans of the French Culinary Institute). She was not a Top Chef.

But the problem is that none of them really are. From here on out I'll root for Casey; she could be the first female winner of Top Chef. BUT...she clearly is not "a top chef." She's just the most likable left. And I HATE THAT in a show that promises amazing things...like Season 1 delivered in Harold.

Tony, Tony, Tony...You've Hurt Me

Dear Tony,
My dear, sarcastic-yet-lovable and awesome Tony. I write this with regret because up until now I've loved you unconditionally. I've laughed at every dig you've landed at the often dim-witted contestants on Top Chef. I've read your blog as though a religion unto itself. I've praised your style and awkwardly good-looks to friends of mine. I felt a connection.

But we need to talk. About what you did to and with Cleveland on No Reservations not so long ago. I remember fondly the day I heard you would be traveling to my beloved homeland to, what I assumed would be, showcase the ways in which the city has hung in during hard times. I was sure you'd hang in up-and-coming Tremont, venture up and around the Case Western Campus, and check out the bohemian shades of Coventry. I couldn't wait to see it. I was thrilled that you would revel in the unique cuisine in a city dominated by countless varieties of Slavic and Eastern European cultures.

And then I saw the show. And my heart broke. And then I got angry. Instead of celebrating the city, which is in dire need of some celebration, you took your size 12-cowbooted foot dangling off that impossibly lanky leg and gave it a sharp kick like a dog on the ground. Not only do you start the start off at Skyline Chili which is 1) a fast food chain 2) FROM CINCINATTI but then you proceed to find the crazy, anti-social Harvey Pekar as your personal tour-guide and SYMBOL of the entire CITY. Of course you met up with Toby, apparently the one friend of Pekar and Cleveland's version of Rainman, to guide you to the Free Stamp only to stand and make fun of it. Clearly relevant because all Clevelanders must harbor some degree of autism and general weirdness. But wait, I forgot to mention the visit to the Sewer Surfers, numbering in the 10s of Clevelanders--most of them transplants from other surfing-friendly climates, who themselves have not embraced the city. Every Clevelander I know 1) wouldn't step foot in Lake Erie 2) in February or really any other month for that matter. Of course, there was also the lame drag race in the broken down warehouse district just to make sure the desolation and down-troddeness of the city that you repeatedly claimed you loved showed through.

And then, only after all other shenanigans had been exhausted, there was the food. As an afterthought to stomping on the apparently cobbled-together inferior culture, that included the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame that you hated not only in reality but also on principle, of what clearly for you is "the mistake on the lake" (despite the deep and abiding love you professed repeated), you ate a couple things. Cincinatti chili, a beer chilled by the snow over by the sewer drain, and just for good measure, pure aerated high fructose corn syrup from a pipe in a book warehouse that once produced Twinkies. I was particularly glad you showcased this as that is so typical of Clevelanders--nothing says a good end to the day like a shot of 30-year-old Twinkie filling straight from the pipe. Ah, but that's Cleveland for ya. While you did head over the the University Inn for some home-cooking that actually spoke a sentence about the ethnic background that still pervades and defines Cleveland down-home cooking, you completely glossed over the greatness that is Michael Symon and "Lola" both as a culinary destination and as a cornerstone of innovation and a breath of life in what is the slowly-rebuilding cultural scene. Of course, how could you concentrate when Jimmy Ramone was stuffing his face as though he'd never eaten before. And just to make sure that the slap on the face you were intending to serve up held its sting long enough to make it meaningful, as the great culmination of this expedition--YOU COOKED AT HOME with two things you bought at the famous West Side Market. Conclusion: Nothing says Cleveland like " I'm going to run away from the depressing and apparently slightly retarded social fabric of the city and escaping to a rich friend's house in the suburbs to cook for myself and try to forget I'm in Cleveland." Well done. Bravo.

Truly, Tony, congratulations. For a man who prides himself on seeking out, exploring and celebrating the uniqueness of every place you visit, you managed, in grand fashion, to mimic exactly what every other influential person has done to this city and thus personally contributed to its continuing depression. Now you're just another asshole on tv who questions an investment in the city thereby questioning the value of the people who love it and call it home. Frankly, save it. Oh, and please--I'm begging--do us a favor and don't come back.

We are so totally not speaking right now.

Pop Culture Overwhelmed

As Meghan has reminded me repeated and, actually, scolded me about the inactivity on this blog, like any good sociologist I've had to step back and take a look at the conditions in which my own inactivity has occured. Have I become somehow apathetic to pop culture? NO. I talked for an hour yesterday with my mom about the Emmy's and Tim Gunn's Guide to Style--clearly I'm still invested. Am I tired? Yes, but. Yes school's in, but I'm not tired enough to stop sucking in pop culture at every turn. Thus, I come to this conclusion: I'm overwhelmed. A couple weeks ago I got the Battlestar Galactica Season 1 on DVD--six discs; I've got Season 1 of The Office sitting on my table along with the movies Zodiac and Big Night. In addition, it's now coming on the premiere week for LOTS of good television. I literally have so many choices, I'm overwhelmed, resorting to watching reruns on the Food Network to ease my anxiety. I feel that now that I've gotten that off my chest, I can dig in and get to work commenting on all of these things. Stay tuned...I promise it'll be mediocre comedy at very least;)

Monday, September 10, 2007

America's Next Top Model Cycles Back

THANK GOD the new fall tv season is about to get underway. I've about had it with stale re-runs and the heinous omni-presence of According to Jim which is a whole different post. So, to celebrate the return of America's Next Top Model I thought I'd outline the pros and cons to watching what is blatantly and unapologetically my favorite brand of brain candy. (The following reflections could not be possible without MTV's fantastic choice to air two ANTM marathons back-to-back a couple weekends ago--cycle 3 on Saturday and cycle 7 on Sunday).

PRO1: The product of this show is something I consider art. Now, I don't consider the show art--that's something very different but the photoshoots they do are often strikingly beautiful and fascinating to watch. Talk about taste cultures.

CON1: It's addictive. Often one show isn't enough and if a marathon does happen to pop up on MTV or VH1, the whole day is just shot. This, I think, is a consequence of the competition aspect. Modeling can be fierce...apparently.

PRO2: Mr. and Ms. Jay. Jay Manuel is the artistic director of the photoshoots who actually teaches these bizarrely awkward girls, hailing from every po-dunk town around the country, to be models in their own right. His critique often ranges from purring a "That was beauuuutiful, Jontelle" (the names of these girls...I swear they're made up) to "Lurice...tha's just UGLY, girrrl." I love Mr. Jay with his bleach blonde hair and his half-open hindu inspired blouse (and yes, it's a blouse). He, like Tyra, (and Oprah) possesses the ability to morph instantaneously between sophisticated fashionista and tough-talking ghetto punk. Now, Ms. Jay is another story. The famous runway trainer who taught Tyra to stomp, Ms. Jay is the absolute cutest 6'4" (6'8" in heels, which he frequently wears) black man to ever appear in pigtails. He's often coiffed (last season it was a beehive inspired do) or weaved, wears dresses with heels, and stomps a fierce runway. The Jays are amazing.

CON2: ANTM has become the platform on which Tyra is becoming as unbearable as Oprah. Routinely, she gets all righteous on the girls and says something that starts with, "When I was..." By my count, Tyra's in her early 30s which means she's too young to pull that. She's also full of contradictions. She'll chastise a girl(no, seriously...they might as well be boxed on the ears) for gaining weight and then yell at Janice Dickinson for calling the same girl "fat." Janice is an obnoxious pig--everybody knows that including her. Tyra tries to play both sides of the coin. Not good.

PRO3: Watching this show is a gateway to knowing and seeing the fashion world. Tyra doesn't mess around with unknown designers and stylists. These girls *become* the world of fashion, they end up with a "book" of photos they can use, and meet important people. It's the ultimate in networking for which every one of those contestants that makes it to the house (top 13) should be VERY appreciative.

CON3: This show has made fashion modeling seem like a desirable and achievable career for any skinny chick who might be scooping ice-cream or brewing coffee right now. It's the desirable part that gets me. Many of those girls say things like, "I've known I wanted to model since I was 12." Is that good? Isn't it basically saying, "I've known that I want to be objectified and judged on my physical attributes, posing in a variety of questionable clothing in the name of a haughty and socially irrelevant business since I was 12." Why do we perpetuate and, in this case, encourage what seems ultimately a despicable and shallow business. Then again, I'm in academics and maybe that's not much different.

Anyway, despite any pro or con, I will be watching (actually taping) the first episode of Cycle 9 which proclaims to be the "future of fashion." With a tag line like that, how could I stay away?

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Wonder-ful Sesame Street

Alright, so my friend Jacob makes an excellent point. After the last post I left on James Blunt appearing on Sesame Street, Jacob sent me this:

Now I really don't know what to think about Sesame Street as I completely don't remember this at all. Stevie Wonder, circa 1970s, is singing "Superstition" on this show for kids and makes no excuses. He jams the whole song that is about seven minutes while the little kids in the background, apparently residents of "the Street" flail wildly or, at the very least, keep the beat: okay, okay, they're jiving. That could have been me.

So, now, to me the question gets even more complex: Stevie Wonder in the 70s sings "Superstition" (which I thought was excellent upon the revisiting) in a concert format with his whole band there, including the saxophones (really, what were the 70s if they weren't about the saxes). Meanwhile, in aut-7 we've got James Blunt singing about Euclidian geometry in his revised version of a song I just happen to hate, helped by Telly. Are the effects different for children? Obviously, I remember the "Numbers song" and not Stevie Wonder. Is this the same for James Blunt, do you suppose?

And, of course, I'm assuming these appearances then, become much more important in attracting the parents to turn on Sesame Street. If it comes to turning on Teletubbies which kids love but freaks parents out with that weird "baby in the sun" thing or Sesame Street which features the hottest bands and celebs, deemed so by the parents, then is it really good fun for everybody?

My issue is this: my guess is that I learned to dance (gulp) from Steve Wonder on SS. I got up in my little toddler velour outfit--horizontally striped of course--and busted it out. But Stevie didn't teach me anything other than how to groove. Thus, today, when I hear "Superstition" I'm still willing to bust it out, although I need more coaxing today than I probably did then. However, when I hear "Euclidian geometry" I think of Mrs. Strunk who was my high school geometry teacher and who slaved away to teach me what a hypoteneuse was and why I needed to know it. She had those answers. Did I rely on her to teach me how to groove--no, that was Stevie's territory. I think we have a lack of bracketing in this world: James Blunt may be an expert at whining in song (and if you've heard his songs you know that's true) BUT my guess is he's not an expert at Euclidian geometry. So what's he doing singing about triangles? We're setting up a weird system of legitimacy that goes something like this:

Celebrities know Everything.
James Blunt* is a Celebrity.
--------------------------------
James Blunt knows Everything
Thus, he must know about Euclidian geometry

*(Substitute your favorite celebrity's name here; I could see this working with Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt, Madonna--especially those that have adopted "very important" humanitarian causes as those they invented them.)

The Stevie Wonder appearance on SS wouldn't fit using this syllogism, because the assumptions were different back then: Stevie Wonder was the guy who played awesome music who had that weird head-wave thing. No one assumed he knew anything other than music, thus he was a legitimate source for music. Nothing should be different with James Blunt, but I feel like this show made it different. There is a world full of math teachers ready to be called up for SS duty--who would love to tell all those little tots in their Baby Phat velour jumpsuits what a triangle is. Did they appear on the show? No. They were Blunted. And they should be as inexplicably angry as I am.

Frankly, I'm still abhorred by the fact that we feel the need to introduce three year-olds to Euclidian geometry via the triangle (for the record, the song actually included the word "hypoteneuse" which upon hearing I broke out into a rash). I guess the introduction of the concept of "celebrity" is all the same. But let me warn everyone: I am a product of Sesame Street in the 70s...and now I write this blog...about celebrity and pop culture. I am a testament to the effects of that early introduction. But at least I can thank Mrs. Strunk, who is not a celebrity, for teaching me legitimate things about math--in school.