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Cosmopolitan Taste
Michael Patterson says to put down
your martinis and march!
Page 8
LOL!
Mickey Jou laughs out loud at Simply
Chaos’s stand-up comedy.
Page 5
The Undergraduate Magazine
Sponsored by The Wharton Journal
Vol. IV, No. 18 | April 12, 2004
Anagram Magic Square
GPA-Induced Warfare
Brian Hertler’s Nerdenbaum battles
J-RO to bring back the A’s.
Page 4
Take the word game challenge! Better
than any crossword.
Page 6
I LIKE FOLKS WHO SUE ABERCROMBIE & FITCH
BY LAUREN SAUL
THE OTHER DAY, several friends and I were discussing our plans for the summer. The conversation was
filled with complaints about the lack of job prospects
for college freshmen, and after awhile my friend halfjokingly said, “Maybe I’ll just work in a store at the
mall, like Abercrombie or something.” Two of my
friends exchanged glances at each other and then informed us of the pending class-action lawsuit against
Abercrombie & Fitch. Essentially, a few organizations
are accusing Abercrombie of discriminatory hiring
practices. The plaintiffs claim Abercrombie enforces
“a nationwide corporate policy of preferring white employees for sales positions, desirable jobs and favorable
work schedules.” Minorities, according to them, are
typically relegated to overnight jobs in the stock room,
so that customers only see white teenagers sporting the
preppy wear.
It is fair to assume the people and organizations
who are backing this lawsuit are not crackpots. Testimony given by former Abercrombie workers supports
these assertions, as does Abercrombie’s own catalog.
Yet this whole story seems rather surreal for the twenty-first century. After all, Abercrombie is a national
corporation with over 600 retail locations throughout the United States. Given its omnipresence in the
wardrobes of teenagers everywhere, it is difficult to understand why such a corporation would feel the need
to exclude non-whites from the visible segment of its
staff. Does Abercrombie actually believe its sales will
dwindle if the staff has a little diversity? If evidence
exists to support such a claim, then the greater American population is more backwards than our university
culture would like us to think. However, it is possible
Abercrombie’s leaders have some unfortunate ideas
about what the “all-American look” means. In either
scenario, Abercrombie obviously has the legal obligation not to discriminate against non-whites.
Defenders of Abercrombie argue small businesses
often only hire within their own ethnic groups, and
this indeed is true. However, Abercrombie has come to
symbolize something greater than its skimpy, preppy
outfits. It has shaped the meaning of what the allAmerican appearance means for a generation of teenagers. Excluding non-whites from the catalog of mod-
CRIMES AGAINST TV
els and the visible salespeople will give teenagers racist
ideas about who is all-American and who is attractive.
With Abercrombie’s popularity and sheer size comes
some responsibility. It is a shame that in this day and
age, the courts are going to have to force Abercrombie
to stop discriminating.
When it comes to hiring salespeople at retailers,
the race issue is very, shall I say, black and white. A
less clear-cut issue is a more pervasive phenomenon
called “look-ism.” Our society rewards those who are
more attractive. Whether it is in the job market or just
in everyday life, good looking people are undoubtedly
rewarded in some way for their looks. As such, many
retailers use looks as an index for hiring salespeople.
Abercrombie actually has gotten lists of the homecoming queens and kings in its stores’ surrounding areas
and recruited from that group. Undeniably, this course
of action is an excellent way to market Abercrombie’s
product. Not only will the homecoming king or
queen’s horde of friends buy piles of overpriced clothing, but their classmates who are trying to climb the
high school social ladder will also jump in the game.
Continued on PAGE 7
DELIVERANCE
ROB FORMAN | MY 13-INCH BOX
AND I HAD JUST THROWN my soapbox
into the rubbish. In last week’s article,
I celebrated two fine network television
shows, Alias and 24, though 24’s quality was declining but still salvageable and
worth watching. Not five hours after putting First Call to bed on Saturday, April 3rd,
my whole perspective on television changed.
About two months ago I wrote a rather long
rant about the cancellation of WB’s Angel.
I now realize how wrong I was to mourn
that show. Angel lasted five seasons, respectable for any television show. It
will leave the airways on top of its game with 110 episodes in the can and a
legion of fans willing to support it in syndication and through DVD sales.
You thought that rant was bad? Well, you ain’t seen nothing yet.
Wonderfalls, after a mere four weeks, has been cancelled. FOX will not
be airing the remaining nine episodes. I had the luck to read the first four
scripts after the pilot, one of which will go unaired and probably unseen
because I doubt DVDs will be produced. Each was an inspired showing
of unique storytelling with engaging and multifaceted characters, brilliant
dialogue, and excellent direction. Ever since I saw the pilot screener this
summer, I have pointed out many times how endearing this show was and
would be. Seeing what came next, I was right.
But, worse than America’s turning against the show, America would
not even turn the show on. Must I repeat again that Wonderfalls received
the best reviews across the board of any new show this season and in the
last few years? Whether it is a failure in FOX’s marketing department or
a general lack of interest in quality, I am devastated. Angel was allowed to
run a long course, but Wonderfalls will not get that same distinction. The
potential of the most amazing show of the year has been squashed and
squandered. Why? Because of the changing direction and feeling of the TV
medium and industry.
To be perfectly honest, I cried when I heard this news. Not just for the
show or because I wanted more. I didn’t cry for Angel. I was angry, but no
tears were shed. These tears ran down my cheeks, leaving bitter salt lines in
their wake. They were not just for Wonderfalls, because even I’ll admit that
would be a bit outlandish. I finally came to a realization: quality television
is dead. If Wonderfalls cannot find an audience, then there is no hope for
quality. To quote Newton Minnow, “[w]e need imagination in programming, not sterility; creativity, not imitation; experimentation, not conformity; excellence, not mediocrity. Television is filled with creative, imaginative people. You must strive to set them free.”
Last week, I said America is a nation where instant gratification rules,
contributing to the decrease in prime-time serial television. I did not appreciate that quality was no longer a factor in the success of a show. I would like
to elaborate now, with a few examples of quality television. Surely you have
all seen or heard of M*A*S*H, Seinfeld, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Each
of these shows is considered a watershed series, yet none of them had stellar
ratings in their first seasons. M*A*S*H, in fact, went on to air a series finale
watched by more people than any other television program ever, including
any Superbowl. Each of these three shows is considered a success by quality standards and, eventually, by ratings standards. Would you be shocked
Continued on PAGE 5
DANIEL NIEH
THIRD LEVEL OF HELL
Being the Odd Man Out
BY JULIE GREMILLION
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I present to you the
most dreaded sentence ever: “I want you to meet
my boyfriend, Jamie, so I’m going to invite him to
come to dinner with us tonight.” And you just can’t
refuse no matter how much you’d like to because
you’d alienate your friend and Jamie, whom you
don’t even know. Plus, you guarantee your friend
has to choose between boyfriend and friends, and
we all know who comes out on top in that scenario.
So, you’re stuck and getting panicky. You are now
trapped as the Third Wheel. Better hope you’re going someplace that serves alcohol—cheaply.
You probably enjoy a relatively uncomfortable
cab ride filled with awkward introductions and the
only four questions Penn students know: school,
year, major, and hometown. Conversation is spent
after eight and a half minutes, and you’re still waiting at a light on 18th and Chestnut. You arrive at
the restaurant after spending the rest of the ride
listening to the cab driver spew incomprehensible
drivel into his cell phone and start racking your
brain for possible topics of conversation. Luckily,
you can discuss the menu or pretend to pore over it
in a trance-like state. Smalltalk about other restaurants you’ve been to or the patrons in the room fill
up a reasonable amount of time, but now you have
water in your glass. Cue the story of how they met
and ten minutes of giggling and interrupting each
other later, and the rolls are gone from the basket.
Uncomfortable silence sets in.
Having little in common with Jamie and tired
of hearing yourself grasp at conversational straws,
your friend and Jamie begin to talk about someone
you don’t know who did something you aren’t familiar with at a party you didn’t attend. You try to
follow the stories and act interested, but your eyes
start to glaze over and you find yourself playing
with the condensation on the side of your glass.
You feel awkward, bored out of your mind and a
little antsy. You are in the Third Wheel date from
Continued on PAGE 4
A PRIL 12, 2004 | FIRST CALL | VOL . IV N O . 18
P AGE 2
FirstCall
Vol. IV, No. 18 | April 12, 2004
The Undergraduate Magazine
Sponsored by The Wharton Journal
Managing Editor
Jordan Barav
Editor-in-Chief
Julie Gremillion
Assistant Editor
Robert Forman
Lauren Saul
Columnists
Robert Forman
Julie Gremillion
Brian Hertler
Mickey Jou
Michael Patterson
Andrew Pederson
Roz Plotzker
Anna Strongin
Writers
Chan Ahn
Daniel Nieh
Etan Rosenbloom
Lauren Saul
Seth Scanlon
Artists
Boris Shochat
Stephanie Craven
Daniel Nieh
Layout Editor
Krystal Godines
Layout Staff
Andrew Milanez
Anna Stetsovskaya
Business Manager
Joseph (Trey) Hollingsworth
Marketing Manager
Leah Karasik
Marketing Staff
Lauren Saul
Anna Strongin
Distribution Managers
Jaqueline Hayward
Marissa Sapega
Webmaster
Luke Iseman
Contact Information
330 Jon M. Huntsman Hall
3730 Walnut Street
Philadelphia, PA 19104
(215) 898-3200
[email protected]
Web Site
clubs.wharton.upenn.edu/fcpaper
Submissions
Email letters to the editors
and guest submissions to
[email protected].
Students, please include
your school and class.
Editorial Policy
First Call is the undergraduate magazine
of The University of Pennsylvania. It is
sponsored by The Wharton Journal.
First Call is published every Monday.
Our mission is to provide members
of the community an open forum for
expressing ideas and opinions. To this
end, we, the editors of First Call, are
committed to a policy of not censoring
opinions. Articles are provided by
regular columnists and writers. They
are chosen for publication based on
the quality of writing and, in the
case of commentaries, the quality of
argumentation. Outside of the weekly
editorial and other editorial content, no
article represents the opinion of First
Call, its editorial board, or individual
members of First Call other than
the author. No content in First Call
unless otherwise stated represents the
official position of the administration,
faculty, or student body at large of the
Wharton School or the University of
Pennsylvania.
Editorial
MUCH ADO ABOUT RANKINGS
About a century and a half ago, innovation swept the piano industry with Steinway & Sons at the
forefront. Steinway established itself as the premier piano brand by competing in contests, simultaneously setting worldwide standards. In 1873 Steinway chose not to compete in a contest in Vienna, an
absence regretted by the Vienna judges. Essentially, this acknowledgement of Steinway’s superiority,
despite its not having entered the contest, meant Steinway had “won”.
Around the same time, another innovative idea was being actualized much closer to home: The
Wharton School was founded as the first business school. Both Steinway and Wharton were founded
on innovation and share a reputation for the highest excellence. Now, like Steinway, Wharton is no
longer “competing.” Wharton surely has no intention of relinquishing its reputation as “the best”; it
unquestionably aims to maintain it.
Wharton probably wouldn’t have been strategically able to make this decision if Harvard Business
School were not concurrently withdrawing from the rankings. This leadership from the top encourages other institutions to buy into the rationale for the decision. Alone, Wharton would have seemed
afraid of losing its top ranking.
Dean Harker noted in his address to the Wharton community that “many in the academic community have questioned the methodologies employed in some rankings, as well as the fact that some
publications change methodologies from year to year, leading to speculation that some rankings
are driven more by editorial agendas than by objective data.” These surveys give to the school little
useful feedback for shaping its own decisions and even detrimentally affect the school’s ability to
gather opinions, as people are less inclined to answer the stakeholder surveys Wharton administers.
Additionally, the school expressed concern for the privacy of alumni and students whose e-mails are
distributed. To clarify, Dean Harker’s e-mail does not address whether other ranking surveys will still
be administered; however, the focus on defining the Wharton brand beyond rankings implies more of
a strategic move at large than merely a high-powered selective spam-filter.
Indeed, it is the mention of the “brand” that has the largest implications for Wharton’s future. As
Dean Harker notes: “In some ways, we, along with our peer institutions, have allowed rankings to
define us, not only to the outside world, but to ourselves as well. It is time to measure our institution’s
excellence, not from rankings, but by…the true quality of our community.” While the underlying belief
of quality has always been embedded in Wharton’s mission, this new policy will likely promote to a
greater extent these priorities in the actual Wharton culture. Thus, the change can prove very positive.
In that statement, Wharton also acknowledges it is the people who set it apart. Yet oftentimes, the
rankings attract the people who allow Wharton to thrive. The school acknowledges the importance of
having reliable sources of information but focuses more on the Graduate level. Clearly, Wharton has
fully weighed this risk, but it does not provide enough of an incentive to discourage the current course
of action.
It seems that such a decision, however, should be a University-wide policy, further reducing the
impression Wharton is merely afraid to lose its standing. However, the rankings have been very beneficial to Penn as a whole, making it probably more reluctant to follow such a move. With the backlash against such “arbitrary” quantification of educational institutions spurring intense criticism and
debate, perhaps Wharton’s move to withdraw from the rankings is another example of its being an
influential force and spearheading change.
JULIE GREMILLION | SOUND ADVICE
Julie presents the old, the new
and the diehard favorites.
RETRO REWIND
““Let’s Stay Together”
Al Green
Al Green is undeniably one of the greatest
male R&B singers in history. His croon is
unmistakable even if you aren’t familiar
with the specific song, and his falsetto will
give you chills. “Let’s Stay Together” was
originally on Green’s album of the same title
from 1972 and also featured the six-minute
remake of the Bee Gees’ “How Can You
Mend a Broken Heart”. If you don’t own
any Al Green albums, you should investigate
his two greatest hits albums which are
definite must haves. They’re not only
perfect for setting the mood but are staples
from an era of classic soul music. If you love
Al, check out Otis, Marvin and Barry: my
four favorite soul kings.
IN STEREO
“Figured You Out”
Nickelback
Although not all that indistinguishable
from their other hits, “Figured You Out”
is probably one of Nickelback’s harder
rocking songs. It doesn’t have quite the
power anthem-esque quality of songs
like “Someday” and is a brief respite from
the overpopulation of such radio airplay
whores. Their September album Long
Road is a fairly reputable follow-up to their
breakthrough hit Silver Side Up, but the
songs are generally the same. My friend
sent me a website that layered “Someday”
over “This Is How You Remind Me”, and the
two songs are virtually identical. I prefer
lead singer Chad Kroeger when he works
with other artists like Saliva’s Josey Scott in
“Hero” and Santana in “Why Don’t You and
I”. If nothing else, at least Kroeger’s a better
version of the wretched Scott Stapp.
Writer? Artist?
EDITORIAL ADVICE
“Killing Me Softly with His Song”
The Fugees
In honor of Spring Fling coming up, we
might as well choose Wyclef ’s most obvious
and well-known hit from when he was still
a member of The Fugees along with Lauryn
Hill. The song is a remake of the Roberta
Flak original and was also remade by such
artists as Luther Vandross. The Fugees,
hailed for their talent, were remake gods,
and their album featured versions of Bob
Marley’s “No Woman, No Cry” and “Fugee-la”, a variation of “Ohh La La La” by
Tina Marie. Wyclef also added his style to a
remake of the Bee Gees’ “Staying Alive” and
a duet with Kenny Rogers of “The Gambler”.
“Killing Me Softly with His Song” was
one of their greatest hits and featured the
unmistakable vocal skills of Lauryn Hill...
before she went crazy.
Contribute to First Call, the undergraduate magazine. Meetings every Monday 9pm in Huntsman Hall F92.
Info: [email protected]
A PRIL 12, 2004 | FIRST CALL | VOL . IV N O . 18
P AGE 3
CURB YOUR PRESCRIPTIONS
A N N A S T R O N G I N | A TA S T E O F M E D I C I N E
IS IT JUST ME, or does it seem
like the people around campus
are a whole lot sicker these
days? The coughing, the sneezing, and the pink eye seem to
lurk behind every closed door
and in every lecture hall seat.
Part of it probably has a lot to
do with the excessive proximity
and fluid exchanges amongst
the oversexed students that seem to overrun this campus, but
a bigger part has to do with the increasing antibiotic resistance that is developing throughout the country.
Going into the details of this phenomenon would be redundant since it consistently floats in and out of the news.
Briefly, the chain of events is as follows: antibiotics initially
kill the bacteria they are used to treat, but with continuous
treatment, the bacteria mutates in an adaptive manner allowing it to resist the antibiotic. This means a new antibiotic
becomes necessary to treat a bacterial condition, creating a
cycle.
New antibiotics need to be constantly developed, but this
is where the problem comes in: no pharmaceutical company
wants to make new antibiotics because it no longer constitutes
a lucrative endeavor. Granted, there are success stories like
Zithromax and Augmentin, two recently developed antibiotics that earned $1.5 billion and $2 billion respectively in 2001
alone. These are just two out of the 150 antibiotics currently
in use. As the utility of the other drugs lessen, the profits they
bring in lessen as well. Seeing the fate of these drugs deters
pharmaceutical companies from investing their time and resources in the development of new ones. With the regulatory
and technical aspects of getting a drug to the market becoming more and more convoluted, it takes approximately eight
years and $900 million from start to finish.
All that effort for a pill that will be prescribed by a physician to his or her patient for a week or two, until the population develops a resistance to that drug, rendering it utterly
worthless. Even if the antibiotic is able to attain the heights of
Zithromax and Augmentin, it will spend its lifespan competing against generic drugs for a much cheaper price. In light of
these factors, who can blame the drug companies for opting
to put out no new antibiotics in 2001 and only two new ones
the year before?
As hard as it may be to admit, no company can disregard
its bottom line, and each ultimately works to optimize its
profits. While the drug companies may be able to cut down
some of the costs they claim go along with making an antibiotic, the effectiveness of doing something along those lines
is extremely limited. Therefore, any actions able to coax the
pharmaceutical companies into redirecting their efforts to antibiotics manufacturing must come from the other side—the
physicians.
While nothing can be done about the fact that antibiotics
are only good for temporary bacterial infections, as opposed
to chronic illnesses like high blood pressure and AIDS that
It is absolutely essential
that doctors do not take
the easy way out: opting to prescribe rather
than spending their
time explaining the situation to the patients.
warrant medications to be taken for years and years, the situation can be helped. In particular, physicians have to limit prescriptions of antibiotics to only those patients who truly need
them, as opposed to those who demand them, as in the case of
strep throat where physicians do just that.
It is difficult to tell the difference between viral pharyngitis and strep-related pharyngitis, and it takes throat culture
tests one-to-two days to confirm or deny the diagnosis, leaving a gap of time when patients and physicians are unsure of
the diagnosis. For many patients that uncertainty combined
with the discomfort of their condition is adequate cause for an
antibiotic, and the physicians often give in.
Granted, if the tests show the infection is viral, patients
can be told to stop their antibiotic treatment, but if treatment
course is 10 days old and the patient is told the true nature of
his or her condition two days into it, that’s already 20 percent
of the overall treatment. Over time, this may add up and lead
to the increasing resistance of bacteria because it is constantly
being treated with one or another unnecessary medication.
I cannot emphasize the importance of doctor-patient
communication enough. In this case particularly, it is absolutely essential that doctors do not take the easy way out:
opting to prescribe rather than spending their time explaining
the situation to their patients. A lot of patients are unreceptive
to the idea of coming out of the doctor’s office empty-handed,
especially if they are in pain, but physicians must be firm and
make it clear to the patient he will only get the medication if
hetruly needs it.
This may not necessarily stop the development of antibiotic resistance, which tends to be a product of spontaneous
gene mutations, but it can certainly curb it. If this is the case,
people will be getting less sick and pharmaceutical companies
will be more willing to reinvest in antibiotic development and
production. They will be even more willing to do so if the
administrative elements of the drug-making process were
disentangled and simplified. At one point, an antibiotic could
be placed in the market in as little as two years, but nowadays
the process takes eight. That’s a 400 percent increase!
The policies that prolong the approval process may have
good intentions, but they ought to be reconsidered and
refined. The FDA and other organizations involved in making the regulatory process need to strike a balance between
confirming drug safety and not holding things up so much
that making drugs loses any financial appeal. Ultimately, we
all need to stop being so idealistic. Nobody is willing to do
anything out of plain goodwill, and pharmaceutical companies are no different. It doesn’t matter whether the item in
question is toilet paper or an antibiotic—the company will not
make it unless it feels worthwhile profit awaits.
We need to accept this reality and do everything in our
power to make the business a more profitable one and to
make the drug companies see they can make money—and
a lot of it. To do this, physicians, patients, and healthcare
policymakers need to rethink and change their approach to
the drug situation and to antibiotics way, so as to attain the
optimal benefit out of them. If they don’t, all of us better start
buying up face masks.
Anna Strongin is a sophomore in the College. You can write to her at
astrongi@sas.
A PRIL 12, 2004 | FIRST CALL | VOL . IV N O . 18
P AGE 4
REQUIEM FOR A CUP
BRIAN HERTLER | SLEIGHT OF HAND
A NEW HIGH
had hit the
University of
Pennsylvania.
Developed by
an
agricultural mastermind
from
West Philadelphia, the
Black Power Coffee was so potent that it actually neutralized the effects of milk and sugar
and so highly caffeinated that it eliminated
the need for sleep altogether. Students, freed
from their repressive Circadian rhythms,
studied all night for their final exams, breaking only to use the bathroom every five minutes. Average test scores, as a result, rose a
full letter grade in all subjects.
The Penn administration blamed the
increase on grade inflation. Determined to
have the lowest grades in the Ivy League, they
combed the Penn Course Review and fired all
the professors with the highest scores. As
replacements, they hired tough graders who
promised to return student GPAs to acceptable levels.
It was the first day of class, and four hundred students sat in Meyerson B1. Expecting
an Australian jokefest through Introduction
to Psychology, they were shocked to see a disgruntled Frenchman take the stage.
“Bonjour to Psychology Zero-Zero-One,”
sneered the professor in a thick French accent
(which the reader can independently supply).
“My name is Dr. Andre Chateau. My objective—which I will execute with relish—is to
fail the great majority of you. Your grades will
be based entirely on the number of friends
you have on the facebook, how many times
your cell phone rings in class, and your ability
to tell people how drunk you got last night. I
will grade on the French Curve, which allots
zero percent A’s, zero percent B’s—”
A grumble of discontent rippled through
the irritable, over-caffeinated crowd. One
student in the back row, the unfortunatelynamed Ira Nerdenbaum, suddenly leaped
onto his seat and pointed. “You suck!” he
cried. “Let’s get him!”
An angry roar went up, and the assembled students rumbled forward as one
mass. Crawling over their seats, they rushed
the stage. Professor Chateau waved his laser
pointer menacingly but failed to stop the onslaught, and the students tied him up with a
microphone cord.
Nerdenbaum took command of the mob
and set about fortifying the Meyerson basement. He sent a division of students to Bucks
County Coffee to secure the caffeine supply,
then sat down to write his list of demands.
We have taken Chateau hostage. We
have resolved: that the University should
re-hire its popular
professors;
that
no
assignments
should be due on
the Monday after
Spring
Fling;
and that 1920
Commons, for its
crimes
against
humanity, should
be
immediately
destroyed.
Judith Rodin,
president of the
University, snapped a pencil angrily as she
reviewed the demands. “First the UA,” she
cried, “and now this! When will those fools
learn that you can’t reason with the administration? Some of them aren’t even millionaires! Igor, who is their leader?”
“My Lord,” snivelled Rodin’s misshapen
manservant, “their leader is a Computer Science major named Ira Nerdenbaum.”
“Nerdenbaum! My arch-nemesis!”
“Your Lordship knows this worm?”
“No, but I consider every student to be my
personal enemy. Igor, there’s only one man
tough enough to handle this rebellion.”
“Duke Nukem? Jackie Chan?”
“Me!”
Hunkered in the Meyerson basement,
General Nerdenbaum read the University’s
HELL
Continued from PAGE 1
hell with no light at the end of the tunnel.
You’re dying for someone else to be sitting next to you so
you can have a normal conversation. As the couple across
the table drifts inevitably into more intimate talk complete
with flirtatious gestures and touches, you desperately need
someone to roll your eyes at, someone to distract you from the
grotesque saccharine display of affection. You stir your drink
until all the ice has melted and your wrist is sore. You try to
keep the waiter around as long as possible making meaningless comments about the busy night the restaurant is having
and the interesting décor. You start eavesdropping on other
people’s conversations and realize you could probably have
more fun with six complete strangers than your own friend.
You really just want to lean over to the table next to you and
say, “do you see what the hell is going on over here? Help
me!”
But there’s no outlet for your frustration because you have
no one else and your friend’s embarrassed giggling isn’t an
invitation to their private twosome. You’d be happy to get
involved in their conversation but it’s disintegrated into nonverbal groping communication with Jamie’s hand wandering
around under the table at an unnatural distance from his
chair, and you can’t exactly say anything. All the frustration
builds up, and before you know it, you’re so desperate to form
a connection with them in any way possible that your hand
suddenly shoots out across the table and caresses one of their
legs. Finally! The conversation is not only once again verbal
but back to including you! Whew! And you thought things
were going to be awkward all night…
Sadly enough, none of that had to happen. You didn’t
have to be stretched to the groping breaking point. If only
they hadn’t immersed themselves in personal conversation,
or better yet, personal exploration. If only you had conned
someone else into going with you. As uncomfortable as they
are, third wheels aren’t inherent. Inevitable, yes, but with
enough preparation, most potential third wheels can safely
be avoided.
The number one key to preventing awkwardness is to
maintain a strict timeframe arrangement. If all of you are
aware of the possibility of the unevenness, you can all try your
best to keep conversation neutral and relaxed with few if any
public displays of affection. Of course, no matter how hard
you try, you can only postpone the discomfort. Eventually,
everyone realizes you’re all trying too hard to force the easy
counter-proposal: Release Professor Chateau
and give up your rebellion, and the penalties
won’t be too severe. Persist in your foolish resistance, and you’ll be very sorry! Sincerely,
President Rodin.
“It seems she’s not ready to negotiate yet,”
Nerdenbaum mused aloud, “but we can wait,
as long as our supplies hold up.”
Suddenly, a student staggered into the
room, holding a single cup of Black Power
Coffee. “General,” he gasped, “there’s been a
terrible disaster! My team and I were coming back from Bucks County Coffee—gasp—
when she came after us—President Rodin, I
mean. She hit us hard with Academic Probations, and I think she mentioned the Office of
Student Conduct.
We were helpless!
I managed to save
this one cup, but
the rest...”
Ne r d e n b a u m
grabbed the coffee
and chugged it; he
needed to keep his
strength up.
“What
about
Dunkin’ Donuts?
Starbucks?”
“Under
new
management. They’re serving nothing but
decaf, sir.”
This was bad. Nerdenbaum knew that
a student army was only as strong as its caffeination, and that, without new supplies, the
situation would quickly fall apart. Already,
some of the freshmen were becoming blearyeyed and lethargic.
It was time for immediate action, while
they still had the chance. They would march
on College Hall and make their demands in
one last blaze of glory. Hoisting Professor
Chateau on their shoulders, they walked out
of Meyerson in formation. Some students,
suffering from acute coffee withdrawal, had
to be left behind. Though short, the march
was difficult, and most of the students arrived
at College Hall yawning and exhausted.
Grade inflation wouldn’t
be a problem if tuition
wasn’t so high… In return
for their forty-thousanda-year investment, people
demand something that
looks good.
camaraderie. The trick is for the third wheeling friend to leave
at a high point before it can break down into embarrassing
silence. Everyone leaves unscathed.
You don’t have much choice in avoiding the situation all
together because at some point in your life, you will either
generate a third wheel or serve as one. When facing one of
these potential situations, I find three general types exist, each
one more harrowing than the last.
The most innocuous of third wheels is when all three people know each other and can easily carry on a conversation.
You don’t have to deal with uncomfortable introductions,
and conversation rarely falls to a subject that doesn’t include
everyone. If it does, the topic will most likely last three to four
minutes before changing. The couple doesn’t share a barstool
or drink from the same straw, and for all intents and purposes,
you’re just three friends standing at a bar on a Friday night.
Time frame is absolutely key in this instance because the realization that everyone’s trying too hard kills the ease and ruins
future outings.
Then some meetings occur which usually end in the third
wheel swearing never to hang out with the couple again. This
summer my friend and I were downtown having dinner when
she decided to surprise me with a trip to Manayunk to visit her
boyfriend. Words could not begin to express my overwhelming excitement. We sat in a row at a bar in complete silence
for the better part of two hours. Occasionally my friend talked
to him, kissed him, and then after a little more silence, she
would talk to me for a few minutes. I started listening to the
table behind us and realized I could have had a fabulous time
with the complete strangers. After an uncomfortable walk
down the street, during which I walked in front of them while
they held hands, we finally reached the train station to head
back to Philly. Spying the Philadelphia Weekly stand on the
platform was akin to the giddiness of receiving a check with
the entirety of your federal income tax refunded. I read the
whole paper cover to cover, every single word, including the
ads and personals. By the time I finished in the uncomfortable setting of her boyfriend’s apartment, it was time to go
home, and I was free! I vowed to her face never again and
received a ridiculously innocent “what?” Needless to say, I
never did it again.
If you thought it couldn’t get worse, you forgot about the
people who just don’t care if you’re comfortable with the situation or not. And there are lots of them out there, folks. My
all-time worst third wheel experience was when I met my
sister’s boyfriend during lunch at Subway. At times I couldn’t
tell if they were actually two different people because she had
Judith Rodin waited at the front steps. “I
knew you’d come back.”
“We’re not here to surrender,” Nerdenbaum said. “We want you to bring our old
professors back.”
“Impossible!” she cried. “Grade inflation
is the scourge of the Ivy League! You just
want easy A’s that you didn’t earn. You have
no power against me—look around! Your
students are falling asleep!”
Nerdenbaum glanced over his shoulder.
She was right: his forces had begun dropping
by the dozen, collapsing on the ground where
they stood. Professor Chateau, with all his
guards unconscious, was breaking free of his
bonds and fleeing down Locust Walk.
President Rodin cackled. “That’s not all,
Nerdenbaum. I got to Bucks County Coffee
before your men did. That cup you drank? It
was decaf.”
All his energy seemed to leave him, and
he dropped to his knees. He said in desperation, “You may have outsmarted us, President
Rodin, but you’ve brought this problem on
yourself. Grade inflation wouldn’t be a problem if tuition wasn’t so high. Don’t you see?
In return for their forty-thousand-a-year
investment, people demand something that
looks good on a resume. If Penn raises its
grading standards, the richest students will
just start going to other schools, where they
can get grades that appear more impressive.
You were never in the business of educating people; you’re in the business of making
money from rich, lazy students!”
Exhausted, Nerdenbaum pitched forward
and fell asleep. The last thing he saw was
President Rodin rubbing her chin thoughtfully.
He awoke a hero. The University, much to
the delight of all its students, had re-hired its
popular professors. At last, Penn had gotten
its priorities straight.
Brian Hertler is a junior in the College. You can
write to him at hertlerb@sas.
her arms wrapped around him in such an absurdly convoluted
way. If she wasn’t kissing him or his cheek, she was kissing his
shoulder, his arm, his hand, etc. They used sappy terms of affection in whiny voices that screamed “you’re intruding on our
together time.” I guess they forgot the “even though we’re the
ones who forced you to be here.” I couldn’t admire the beautiful décor of Subway, and there’s only so much condensation on
a cup. I refused to be with the two of them again for an entire
year and a half before she convinced me and I had no choice.
What is unfortunate is that third wheels don’t just occur
among couples and their relatives or friends. Those just happen to be the most awkward. Any group of three people can
become a third wheel if two of the members have a stronger
connection than the other. Somehow they’ll always end up
talking about something while the odd man out is clueless.
However, with friends conversation will eventually segway
into some other topic in which the formerly silent partner can
now become involved. It may take a few minutes if they’re
talking about sports while you try not to yawn, but eventually
the story will shift from channel 8 to channel 9, and you’ve
suddenly got FOX’s entire lineup to discuss in detail. Dating
third wheels on the other hand include conversations that
segway into being without words, escalating until you sit in
uncomfortable silence trying to keep your hand from releasing its frustration via an uninvited grope.
With all this fear about forcing your friends into nasty
situations, you may worry about introducing them to the guy
you’re dating, but relax. It can happen—as long as you follow
the rules. Make it a group event of more than three people so
your friend has someone else. Avoid any overt displays of affection that might cause someone to feel uncomfortable and
perhaps stretch them to the groping threshold. Above all,
respect the Law of the Timeframe; hang out at a bar or casual
environment instead of dinner at a nice restaurant. Keeping it short, sweet and harmless is the only way to guarantee
future meetings can occur without your friends swearing you
off and talking about you behind your back. It may require
more effort and concentration, but it’s a hell of a lot better
than seeing your shameful behavior exposed in print while
your miffed friends eagerly dispel any anonymity about who
really is “Jamie”.
Anthony Schrauth contributed to this article.
Julie Gremillion is a junior in Wharton. You can write to her at
gremillj@swharton.
A PRIL 12, 2004 | FIRST CALL | VOL . IV N O . 18
P AGE 5
SHOW ME THE FUNNY
MICKEY JOU | SITES AND SOUND
COMEDIANS AND HIGH
School teachers are two of
the bravest types of people
I know. No one is crueler and more attuned to
weakness, so as to pounce
upon and devour the prey,
than an audience and high
school students; they live
to feed on the weak. But
here comedians and high
school teachers are,
usually by choice, facing
the dangers of judgment and rowdy, mob-like behavior
before them. To quote Bob Naftal, in response to some
boisterous audience participation: “You wanna come
down here? I can’t even see you f-ggots. I’ve got the light
in my eye.” Ain’t that the truth?
It is for this reason that I hesitated to see Simply Chaos, the Penn student stand-up comedy group, in previous
semesters. If they are actually funny, the audience will
laugh, we all have a good time—no harm, no foul. But if
they aren’t funny at all… well, have you ever had a tooth
pulled out? Neither have I, but I have seen dead silence at
the end of an earnest punch line. Pain. Lots of it. Pulling
out a tooth probably feels something like that.
Luckily for me and for the audience, the members
of Simply Chaos aren’t half bad. Given that it’s a group
of horny college guys except for the single female comedian, if you can sift through the overabundance of toilet
humor and sex jokes and the at times cringe-worthy politically incorrect racial and ethnic jokes, they have some
genuinely inventive and fresh parodies, satires, and social
commentary gems sprinkled throughout the show. Senior
Nimish Verma, for example, erred on the social commentary side of comedy and does a nice job parodying the
show 7th Heaven. While some political incorrectness is
bandied about during his Passion of the Christ critique,
I assure you that his going easy on sexual conquests, and
the joys or gross-out factors thereof, is a welcome break in
the onslaught of sex jokes that were to come.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a dirty joke as well as the
next sensible person looking for a good laugh. But there
is a line to be drawn. Amit Pardasani, another senior
member of the group, bravely tested the waters when he
combined extreme political incorrectness of racial jokes
and explicit sexuality in his routine. It wasn’t necessar-
CRIMES
Continued from PAGE 1
if I told you these shows would have been cancelled if they
had premiered in today’s television world? And just think
of what the world would have missed out on.
Well, Wonderfalls is among the first few casualties of
the new television world order. Firefly was another, as
were Andy Richter Controls the Universe and until recently,
Family Guy. Arrested Development is sure to be next. Oddly
enough, all of these shows are FOX programs. The network
is hip, edgy, and risk-taking with its pilots. It often has the
most inventive of scripted fare. It also has the sleaziest and
most debasing reality programs of all networks and is apt
to cancel quickly the high-concept shows in favor of vulgarity. You are either a hit or not. Word of mouth and critical
acclaim just don’t matter anymore. All that matters is if a
network can attract a large audience and keep that audience. There is no opportunity for growth, unless of course
you begin substantially big in the first place.
The cause? Well, you’ve heard me lambaste Reality TV
over the last two years, and I’ll freely admit I put a blanket
description over the genre based on the worst of the bunch.
There are a few reality shows that do have genuine dramatic value and are interesting from a human-interrelations,
psychoanalytic point of view. Shows like Survivor, The
Apprentice, even to some extent America’s Next Top Model—and it’s interesting to note these three all follow a similar format—all are better than a great number of scripted
programs, and there’s a lot of crap on the scripted end these
days. However, scripted shows are fiction. When Reality
is bad, it is happening to real people, and real people are
doing the things we see on these shows. That is shameful.
Joe Millionaire, The Swan, My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiancé,
The Littlest Groom and others—not just on FOX—are all
simultaneously exploiting, reflecting, and glorifying the
worst aspects of society. But they are incredibly popular.
If you are satisfied with these shows, I’m ashamed and
disappointed. If our culture is heading in this direction, if
it is anything more than a fad, we might as well all jump
in the Schuylkill right now. Because it isn’t worth saving.
I don’t want the world tuning into The Swan and thinking
every American stands for that, even though it was a hit
from its premiere numbers—which disturbs me in a way
I can’t even begin to describe. Where are the protesting
feminists? Everything treacherous and callous is sensa-
ily “unfunny,” but I could feel the tension rising in the
increasingly uncomfortable audience. At some point, the
people listening to your jokes no longer feel the freedom
to laugh with you, and the double-punch of sex and race
seems to be it.
Newcomer Phil Kor, on the other hand, recognized
this balance and displayed commendable skills in shifting
between topics. After the opening sex bit that dominated
his time on the stage, his comment, “I just alienated the
female half of the audience, didn’t I? Is Kathy still here?
I agree with you Kathy. Sex jokes are gross. Let’s laugh at
handicapped people now,” made for the smoothest transition within a routine for the night. This is also a telling
remark about the nature of comedy: if the funny man isn’t
making fun of you, you’re probably the next in line. All’s
fair in love, war, and a good laugh, my friend.
Because of the similarity in the routines of the mem-
At some point, the people listening to your jokes no longer
feel the freedom to laugh with
you, and the double-punch of
sex and race seems to be it.
bers, the comic that truly stood out in the line-up was
Kelvin Kwong, whose magic-based routine proved once
and for all that it is still possible to have good, clean fun
in this cynical, oversexed world. Minus a few obligatory
homosexual jokes while working with the ever-so-cooperative volunteer audience member, Kwong’s jokes were
funny and classic because he was parodying the routine
of the magician. He employed such tricks as the cliché of
picking a volunteer from the audience turned on its head
with the threat of throwing a brick and poking fun at the
old “pick a card, any card” trick, which made his magic act
not only eye-opening but truly entertaining as well.
The rest of the company, similarly, are gems waiting to
be polished. Jocelyn D’Ambrosio’s energetic game-show
opening contrasts sharply with her quiet, subtle sense of
wit, which, with more confidence and polish, will help her
become quite the funny woman. I give her kudos for not
using the age-old “it’s tough being a female comedian” bit!
tionalized. Let’s not forget the downfall of Ancient Roman
culture: the gladiator games in the Roman circus. The very
worst aspects of society were made into entertainment
for the masses. Does this ring any bells? It should. In the
words of Aldous Huxley, “that’s the price we have to pay for
stability. You’ve got to choose between happiness and what
people used to call high art. We’ve sacrificed the high art.
We have the feelies and the scent organ instead.”
So I ask you: was it worth it? For all of you watching
reality television shows, trying to live vicariously through
people in “real” situations and getting sucked into the massive plague the genre always has been, what do you glean
from watching? What is the entertainment value of such
shows that celebrate the worst aspects of our society? Cheat
on your significant other; see how many pounds of pig shit
you’re willing to bathe in to win money; you’re depressed
on the inside so you get hundreds of thousands of dollars
of plastic surgery to become a completely different person
and consider yourself beautiful. It is an ugly reality, an ugly
existence of lionizing the worst we have to offer and letting
the best go unnoticed and discarded. Gone are the wit, the
charm, and the heart that Wonderfalls and others like it
brought. I am not talking about good Christian morality
or mindless drivel. Mindless television can be just as harmful as any reality program. I’m referring to those things in
life, televised or not, that make us think, make us question,
make us feel. Things of beauty, not of crudeness.
It’s not just the viewers’ fault. Much of the blame should
be placed on the network heads who decide to put this drivel on the airwaves. They are getting great short-term returns, but I think the long-term effects will be devastating.
You can’t build a network identity based on reality shows
that are just like all of the others on TV—unless you’re FOX
and want to stand for sleaze. All six networks have a brand
image that is currently being destroyed. CBS is for older
people. ABC is a family network. NBC is for hip 18-49 year
olds. FOX is edgy and quirky. The WB is for teenagers.
UPN is for the urban market—the industry’s PC term for
African-Americans. The problem: the executives are no
longer fostering shows that continue these brand images.
Wonderfalls is a FOX show along the lines of Ally McBeal
and The Simpsons. It doesn’t belong on any other network.
Then why did it fail? Viewers would not watch. The FOX
viewer is no longer interested in FOX programming. They
want American Idol or World’s Funniest Suicides.
The problem the networks will face in a few years is
one of longevity. Most reality shows are one-shots. All of
The aforementioned Naftal has an abundance of energy
leftover after trading insults, making some biting social
commentary about doctors and some of their idiosyncratic hypocrisies. Freshman Jason Schneider’s routine was
based on his dependence on the internet to stimulate his
sex life, discovery of the true nature of Cosmo, and tips on
picking up chicks at AA meetings. It displayed a wealth of
satire and social commentary, by far one of the richest and
most interesting routines of the night.
The most touching moment, like Atma’s homage to
their graduating founding members, is the “senior roast”
moment at the end of the show, voiced by the more-thanenthusiastic, almost sadistically delighted Naftal and
mediated by the new “good cop” Simply Chaos president,
Alex Zolan. I was particularly amused by how different
this rough-and-tumble, every-man-for-himself farewell is
against Atma’s flowers-and-photo-montage laden thanks
giving. I suppose for guys, verbally beating each other up
is as good a show of affection as physically beating each
other up. Though frankly, considering some of the things
I’ve heard them say to each other at the show, I can’t help
but wonder how on earth they haven’t killed each other
already.
Watching Paul Braff, the Nicholas Cage look-alike,
take a moment to recover himself by squatting and gasping after a particularly zesty barb from Naftal about his
girlfriend was, for some reason, moving. The founders
Braff and Avi Gilbert were both roasted pretty badly, but
watching their fellow comedians cause them to laugh so
hard that they had to bend over and catch their breath
made me understand where it all began, how far they
must have come, and how much passion and energy they
must have put into this group. I, for one, am happy that
Braff and Gilbert have founded and left the legacy of Simply Chaos for the future Penn student community. Simply
Chaos should tone down the shock factor some—it doesn’t
need half the racial & dirty jokes that it has and is capable
of much better material. Funny, energetic, and unapologetic about getting down and dirty, Simply Chaos is a
group of rambunctious entertainers who are an evocative
source of parody and satire that points out the absurdities
of college life and contemporary society.
Mickey Jou is a sophomore in the College. You can write to her at
myjou@sas.
the networks except WB have a franchise, but that’s just
one hour each week. With what will you fill the rest of your
schedule? The answer ought to be brand-defining programming. That hasn’t been the case. Look at ABC after
the fallout of Who Wants to be a Millionaire? That show
aired about five hours each week. Once it was gone, the
network had so many programming holes that it still hasn’t
dug itself out of its grave, four years later. You can’t build
viewer loyalty with one program; you have to do it with
several shows that combine to define the network image
in order to keep a viewer watching throughout the week. I
looked at the shows that I watch on a regular basis and, lo
and behold, I am a FOX viewer because about half of my
network TV time is spent on that channel.
But even I, TV Boy, am being dissuaded. The fallout after the Wonderfalls cancellation almost made me quit this
column. It doesn’t help that FOX is airing repeats of The
Swan in its stead. Now, viewers are not willing to commit to
new shows they fear will be cancelled in lieu of more dreck.
So the shows get cancelled and more reality—usually the
bad kind—fills the hole. It’s a vicious cycle.
If this isn’t an acceptable option for you, then you’ve got
to do something about it. Do not let the dreck, scripted or
unscripted, win. Listen to the critics. We know what we’re
talking about. Pick up TV Guide, Entertainment Weekly or
any of the trade papers when the Fall Preview or Midseason
Preview issues come out and see if you might be interested
in one of the new shows. Do not be afraid of new things, of
different things or opinions, or of shows that will stimulate
and challenge you. How will you know what you like and
dislike unless you try it? It was a lack of sampling that
killed Wonderfalls. Many people I talk to say that network
TV, even basic cable, is devoid of quality. Well, whose fault
is that if no one watches the chance high quality shows that
manage to fly under the executive axe? Please. Television
cannot take much more of the crap.
I’ll be back next issue, hopefully with an e-mail interview with Wonderfalls’ executive producer, Tim Minear—
he had jury duty this week and is shopping the show to
other networks so wasn’t available for questions—and
with my Pilot Preview, where I look at the premises of next
season’s new show possibility and pass down my verdict. I’ll
tell you now: it doesn’t look good.
Rob Forman is a sophomore in Wharton. You can write to him
at robertf@wharton.
A PRIL 12, 2004 | FIRST CALL | VOL . IV N O . 18
P AGE 6
ANAGRAM MAGIC SQUARE
Find an anagram for the 5-letter word in each box. The anagram will answer one of the clues. Put the number of that clue into the small square
and write the anagram on the dash. The numbers in each row and column will add up to 65. Write the first letter of each anagram on the correspondingly numbered dash at the bottom of the page; and, presto!, the Anagram Magic saying will appear. To start you off, we have put in
one anagram and its clue number and set its first letter on the proper dash at the bottom of the page.
TOGAS
BLEAT
TORSO
SMITE
AXINE
= 65
1
ROOST
SLEEK
BELOW
NEVER
FLOAT
RUNES
= 65
1. Perch
14. Titled
2. Encourages
15. Dining-room object
3. Brads
16. Attacks of fever and chills
4. Chutzpah
5. Notions
ARSON
6. Without clothes
KNEAD
SOLID
OWNED
SNAIL
= 65
ASIDE
= 65
9. Posts
10. Propelled
AGREE
SURGE
ADORE
AMEND
ANGER
= 65
= 65
= 65
= 65
= 65
= 65
18. Keen
19. Ohio city
7. Bearded animals
8. Soaring
RENTS
USAGE
TEACH
ISLAM
17. Hospital worker
20. Provide with funds
21. Mountain chain
22. Swindle
11. Ships’ spines
23. Articles
12. Sacred images
24. Submarine detector
13. Strict
25. Arm joint
R —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —– —–
—–
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25
FOR SOLUTIONS GO TO OUR WEBSITE: HTTP://CLUBS.WHARTON.UPENN.EDU/FCPAPER
Copyright © 2004 by Penny Publications, LLC
www.pennypress.com
A PRIL 12, 2004 | FIRST CALL | VOL . IV N O . 18
P AGE 7
BEST BETS 4/12 - 4/19
Rob Forman’s picks for the week
First Call will be taking a break for Fling. Here
are a few highlights of the two weeks ahead.
come back and bite us in the neck. Sexy, short,
Texan loose ends.
TUESDAY, 4/13 – 24 (FOX, 9 P.M.) Forget
what I said in my article last week. Okay, don’t
forget, but while the “Day 3: 4 A.M. to 5 A.M.”
was one of the worst hours of the show to air,
“Day 3: 5 A.M. to 6 A.M.” was one of the best.
Hopefully the action and suspense and sheer
terror will continue in this week’s “Day 3: 6
A.M. to 7 A.M.” Reiko Aylesworth is one of the
most capable dramatic actors television has
right now. She played the calm yet terrified federal agent trying to prevent a riot of bio-virusinfected civilians despite her own infection and
therefore imminent demise from perfection.
The new villain, Stephen Saunders, has yet to
prove himself interesting, but is certainly evil,
and he’s from Jack Bauer’s past, so there’s a lot
of potential.
THURSDAY, 4/15 – The Apprentice (NBC, 9
P.M.) I couldn’t consider myself a TV columnist
if I didn’t suggest the season finale of this reality show. I’m not watching, but what the heck.
See, I can be helpful. For those of you expecting to see a new episode of Friends before the
finale, it’s two repeats. And I’m pretty sure the
next “new” episode is this season’s second clip
show. All of you Donald fans—and who’d have
thought I’d ever say that—don’t worry, the show
will return for two more cycles next season.
WEDNESDAY, 4/14 – Angel (The WB, 9
P.M.) finally returns with “Underneath,” after
a six week hiatus for “You Say It, We Play It”
Smallville repeats, which fared no better in the
Nielsen ratings than a rerun of Angel would
have. Six episodes left. Of all of Angel’s writers,
I like the Fain & Craft team, who wrote this
installment, the least. But this episode should
serve as a springboard for great things to come.
Adam Baldwin, not of the Baldwin brothers,
begins a guest starring stint as the team’s new
invincible thorn in their side. This makes him
the third Firefly actor to guest star in the Buffyverse as a supremely powerful being. From preliminary reports, it looks like a bunch of loose
ends from earlier in the season are going to
SUNDAY, 4/18 – The Simpsons (FOX, 8 P.M.)
may be “The Way We Weren’t.” Or it may be
“My Big Fat Geek Wedding.” Or it may be a rerun. It all depends on the striking voice actors.
I don’t know if they’re worth $360,000 an episode each, but obviously the show cannot go on
without them.
TUESDAY, 4/20 – The Shield (FX, 10 P.M.)
has “Safe.” I don’t know what it’s about because
I stay unspoiled for the show and we don’t get
FX on campus anyway—which I still don’t understand—but the last few installments have
been quite good. It’s building to something.
Tension is in the air. And all of the actors are
doing a superb job. This is the rough and raw
police drama everyone needs to be watching.
Throw away the glitz and glam of CSI or Crossing Jordan.
WEDNESDAY, 4/21 – Angel (The WB, 9 P.M.)
I swear there’s a reason I’m recommending this
A&F
Continued from PAGE 1
The salespeople of most retailers are attractive or at least thin. People commonly complain about the fact that catalogs and the media promote a physical
ideal, but the problem goes deeper because stores rightly perceive sales will be
augmented if the salespeople resemble the catalog people as much as possible.
Nowhere in American law or culture does it say that businesses must not discriminate based on looks, and so the practice will continue because stores believe
it helps sales. American culture sends the message, in all media, that looks indeed matter. Any efforts in denying this all-encompassing reality are futile, and
the situation will not change in the near future. By restricting a sales force to
white-only, Abercrombie is telling its customers it only considers whites attractive. Thus, its racial component of discrimination is clearly absurd and immoral,
but the appearance component is merely one more manifestation of the realities
present in our culture.
Abercrombie’s stores with their loud music, skimpy outfits, and homogeneous
sales force are influencing the teenagers of today. While the quality of its clothing is questionable, with wrinkly cotton that looks like it will be able to survive
about one wash, teenagers flock to that store like no other. Imitations like Hollister have popped up, and American Eagle also tries to follow the Abercrombie
example. Keeping diversity out of the Abercrombie look is not only illegal, but it
will have profound effects on our generation’s view of what is beautiful. Therefore, Abercrombie has both a legal and moral obligation to diversify its visible
work force. I hope the courts will agree.
Lauren Saul is a freshman in the College. You can write to her at lcsaul@sas.
m
s
i
l
l
our dose of
a
c
t
weekly wisdom
s
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fi
THIS CITY NEEDS FEWER FIRE
HYDRANTS, MORE PARKING
SPACES. SORRY FIDO.
again. This is a warning. There is one character
in all of Angel’s history that is almost universally hated. In “Origin,” he returns. The Father will
kill The Son. That’s all you need to know.
FRIDAY, 4/23 – Iron Chef America (FOOD, 9
P.M.) No kidding. Real Iron Chefs. No William
Shatner. Whose cuisine will reign supreme?
I don’t know, but I miss new episodes of this
show desperately, so tune in and make the three
night (Friday, Saturday, Sunday) event a regular
program, please.
SUNDAY, 4/25 – Alias (ABC, 9 P.M.) has the
most shocking twist of all. I’m not gonna get
into it, but let’s just I’m not happy someone
spoiled me on this. Bastards. “Blood Ties” introduces Mia Maestro as… you’ll have to see it
to believe it.
SUNDAY, 4/25 – Arrested Development (FOX,
9:30 P.M.) has “Let ‘Em Eat Cake,” what will
hopefully become the first season finale, and
not the series finale. This show is just so hilarious. Anyone who likes Curb Your Enthusiasm
and hasn’t sampled this gem, because it’s on
FOX or just not on HBO, you’re missing out.
In this episode, George Sr. fakes a heart attack
and heads for Mexico to try and escape prison
life, while Lindsay and Tobias’ marriage is put
under stress. Perhaps the funniest of all the
plot lines, Buster and adopted Korean Annyong
(which means “hello” in Korean, and you’d get
the joke if you saw his introduction episode)
fight over women.
THE UNDERGRADUATE MAGAZINE |S PONSORED BY THE W HARTON J OURNAL | A PRIL 12, 2004 VOL . IV NO .18
lastcall
MAKE YOUR MARK ,
NOT JUST A MARTINI
M I C H A E L PAT T E R S O N | O U T O F T H E F O L D
I FEEL AWESOME. Months of
preparation and hard work with
lots of other committed people
are finally coming together. As I
sat listening to Kate Michelman,
President of NARAL ProChoice America speak in College
Hall last week, I realized the
importance of the work I and
others have been doing.
For months, I have been working with a coalition of
people representing the spectrum of progressive groups
at Penn to organize people to participate in the March for
Women’s Lives. The March on Washington, this April 25th,
will be the largest in our nation’s history with an estimated
million and a half people gathering together in support of
the freedom of reproductive choice. Toward this end, the
coalition at Penn that was formed several months ago has
sponsored numerous rallies, panels, fundraising events, and
more. You name it; we’ve done it.
After the Michelman event, I was speaking with some
friends about the success of the evening when we turned to
whether many Penn students in general are informed about
the issues facing the nation. Overall, the conversation was not
optimistic.
My pessimism stems from a number of factors: for one,
have you listened to some of the ignorant drool people discuss
while walking to and from class on Locust Walk? Some of this
material is worthy of CU football players. There are the men
who talk about nothing more than what they would like to do
to this girl or that girl, there are the women that go on and on
about their newest DKNY fuck-me boots, and then there are
the gay “bois” who seem to have issue talking about anything
other than the latest guy they screwed or about how they just
absolutely have to go to Chrome this weekend.
Now let me give an example of a conversation from the
elevator of Harnwell College House a few months ago when
I overheard two typical Penn guys talking about something
other than female breasts.
Penn Dude #1: “Hey, who’s that guy on the front of the
DP?”
Penn Dude #2: “Oh, that’s Al Sharpton. I think he is
running for President.”
Penn Dude #1: “Cool.”
Me (very agitated): “Hey, actually, that’s Jesse Jackson. He
was on campus yesterday, and he has not run for president
since 1988.”
I have no doubt that I probably follow current events
a bit closer than many people on campus and perhaps the
majority in the nation. However, when two people cannot
tell the difference between Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton,
there is something seriously wrong with them. Either they
were raised in all-white suburbia and have serious issues
differentiating between people who are not white as a third of
Penn does, or they are what I like simply to call “dumb-fucks.”
In this case, I think these two are both.
Before everyone thinks I am accusing the entire campus
of being out of touch with reality, nothing could be farther
from the truth. To be fair, it is likely that a slight majority
of people at Penn are actually decently informed about the
world around them, perhaps even enough to make half-way
intelligent votes come election time. Given the reputable
nature of Penn and schools in its league, however, there are
far too many people who simply do not care enough to inform
themselves of things that have nothing to do with sex, clothes,
or drinking.
What is the solution to this problem? It’s simple: pick
up a newspaper. Read any paper of your choice; even a
conservative paper is better than nothing, though I would
suggest avoiding the Fox “unbiased” version of reporting
at all costs. If you really have so little time between trips to
King of Prussia and boozing at some generic bar in CC, then
a quick gander at the most basic of news sources such as
CNN.com would suffice. I like sex, clothes, and drinking as
much as the next person, but I still manage to stay informed
enough to have something decently interesting to discuss
involving none of these things.
If you are really feeling ambitious and want to take action
to make a difference on campus, consider joining a group. It
doesn’t matter what are your ideological, political or cultural
interests. I believe that every single group on Penn’s campus
adds to the overall value of the student body. If nothing else,
some of the groups here give the vast majority of the campus
someone with whom to argue.
I know many people consider Penn to be a mere stepping
stone to the stage of their lives when they make juicy sixdigit incomes and drive around in their hot new Porsche on
weekends. But it seems sad to go through four of the most
potentially fun and productive years in one’s life, ignoring
important events around the country and making no impact
on anyone other than oneself. I know the people at this school
can do better than that. At the Kate Michelman event, I saw
nearly 200 people who are doing better than that. On April
25th, there will be over 400 Penn students marching for
reproductive choice in D.C. to show the country that they can
also do better.
I ask you: can you do better?
Michael Patterson is a junior in the College. You can write to him at
mjp2@sas.
TWO-FACED HOSTING
The Intracacies of Entertaining Out-of-Towners
ANDREW PEDERSON | BRUT FORCE
ONE OF the
things I fully
regret
ever
saying
in
high school to
any number
of people is
the
hateful
phrase,
“I
promise I will
keep in touch.”
In my mind, the term “keeping in touch”
was characterized by infrequent phone calls
or e-mails in which I would exchange with
my old friends a scripted, socially acceptable
exchange of what amounts to: “Hey, how
are things?” “Fine. It was good talking to
you.” *Click* Looking back, I was gravely
mistaken.
Keeping in touch these days means
arranging a series of visits between friends at
different schools, whether they are five or five
thousand miles apart. At first, these personal
exchanges of experience and chances to relive
“the good ol’ days” seem to be a good idea.
However, once a friend finally does show
up on campus, a mysterious pressure seems
to build into a construction of horror never
before seen by mankind.
First, after the handshakes and hugs and
forced ejaculations of “it is so good to see
you!” comes a series of awkward moments.
The first occurs when the guest walks into
your 9-by-12 double room after many hours
of traveling and realizes there are two prison
style beds, three people and a few square feet
of rug space that contains over six month’s
worth of living detritus and various insects
and pests. It’s especially wonderful that
your friend decided to bring sixty pounds of
provisions but no sleeping bag.
Once you have bravely sacrificed your
leaden mattress for a tile-padded slab of
concrete to appear like the gracious host
loved by all, you are subjected to a universal
set of tacit hosting expectations which, like
any good pain-in-the-ass ritual, begin at
sundown. For as soon as the sun sets, you are
responsible for your guest in any number of
ways, not the least of which are: getting them
drunk, making sure they don’t get mugged
and, if you’re an especially good host, getting
them laid.
The first two don’t normally pose any
problems, provided it’s a Thursday or a
Saturday, and if your friend can stop himself
from mouthing off to the 2 A.M. West
Philadelphia Middle School “Field Trips.”
The last expectation, however, is particularly
tricky for the vast majority of us who have an
extreme difficulty finding any action for one
person, much less two. So if on the off chance
one does find a girl even willing to unzip your
pants and spit down your leg, you’ll probably
have to let your friend move in at the last
moment and listen to their visceral joy all
through the night from your position on the
cold, cold floor. Maybe, if you’re lucky, they’ll
let you use the same sheets the next night to
vicariously live through their now stale and
crusty ecstasy.
These disturbing and, for the most part,
universal facts are nothing if not true and
tragic. But why does one feel the need to
make such sacrifices for a guest that probably
gave wedgies and stole beer in high school?
Chances are I am obscuring the conceptual
definition of a good and generous host, but in
my humble opinion the difficulties of hosting
old friends are merely an outgrowth of a
deeper issue we all have in common.
Among friends on campus, it’s not
difficult to find something to bitch about.
Odds are, in the course of any conversation,
someone will bring up the food hashed out
by ex-cons at Commons, the second-hand
smoke outside Van Pelt, catching a whiff
from the mighty Panty Sail out on the Walk
or even running late to class and getting
stuck behind a group of Tabard girls walking
on their hands and chanting entreaties to
Plutarch or Estée Lauder or whomever.
Penn is far from perfect on any given day
and normally I would be the first person to
freely admit this. What’s odd is that when
I found myself backed into a corner and
questioned at work by a wandering preFrosh and her mother, I suddenly found
myself talking as if Willis J. Stetson himself
had his hand straight up my ass. “Wow,
campus sure puts on some crazy fun events
all the time. SPEC is where it’s at!” “The
weather? Oh man, it’s a little cold for like a
week in December, but otherwise it’s really
great all the time.” “Bums? I don’t even know
the meaning of the word. Those people test
benches for the University.” I even went on to
give advice on subjects I don’t know anything
at all about. I told the poor girl where the
pool was despite the fact that I haven’t been
swimming in nearly ten years and how to
choose the best housing assignment even
though I’d pretty much filled in the dots on
my sheet at random on the way to the beach.
In short, I was bored at work and suddenly
decided to play tour guide. Sure, it may have
just been fun to make things up and have
people believe me, but I believe it shows the
dramatic effects of a deeper trend as well.
This phenomenon is certainly not
restricted to myself when I inadvertently
lie to pre-Frosh girls. Most of the people I
know don’t pull any punches when it comes
to the shortcomings of the U, but even they
vacillate from cynic to cheerleader. This
strange happening is most apparent when
these same people meet up with anybody
from out of town. Suddenly, those “annoying
foreign people who smoke outside the
library” become to your friend from home
“some ungrateful Drexel kids abusing the
library privileges we give them.” This is, of
course, as they go down the walk pointing
out every one of the thousands of Ben
Franklin-related objects around campus
and even encouraging the guest to sit with
our bronzed version of Ben, even though
we know full well what happens to him on
those dark, moonless Saturday nights. An
out of town guest instantly and inexplicably
changes one’s realistic and rightfully cynical
view of Penn into a disturbing form of
unflappable “Penn Pride.”
It is this stealthy affliction as well as
an understandably healthy ego birthed in
the class of 2007’s pretentious application
statistics that drives us both to obscure the
bad facts as well as sacrifice precious sleeping
time and action simply to impress an outof-towner for the sake of our collective
perception across the country and among
the venerable pages of thefacebook.com.
Why should we subject ourselves to such
stress and related torture? Unless we all
check ourselves the next time somebody
new comes to visit, we could even sink to the
shameful depths of, “Oh, the Quaker Guy?
Yeah, he’s actually a pretty good mascot.” A
world where we all like being Quakers? My
friends, we cannot let it be. We must not let
it be. Remember this well the next time a
friend comes up: sleeping on the floor and
accepting the lame Quaker mascot is in
no way worth a paltry sentence or two on
somebody’s AIM profile. Save everybody the
trouble and buy your friend a beer when you
get home.
Andrew Pederson is a freshman in the College. You
can write to him at awl@sas.