Head swirling with Gothic script, I ran over to Tower to grab some food. Today was build-your-own-burger day. I assembled the requisite components and, as a finishing touch, absentmindedly reached for a squeeze bottle of barbecue sauce. Without really looking, I dressed the bun thusly:

Do you see what I see? A stylized, calligraphic capital A? (”A” as in, “Astonishingly Apropos,” given my earlier activity; also, “Astonishingly Artistic,” given that in real life, my penmanship is atrocious.)

Anyway, I post this because:
1) It completely and totally BLEW MY SLEEP-DEPRIVED MIND.
2) This is seriously the prettiest my handwriting has ever been, ever.
3) When it came time to eat the burger, I found out that the substance I had thought was barbecue sauce was actually A-1 steak sauce, which is gross (albeit also capital-A Apropos) and should never have been poured into a squeeze bottle marked “BBQ.” So if you’re a Tower member reading this, know that your condiment containers are grievously mislabeled, but also magic.

Today, I present to you a time-lapse video (1 frame captured every 45 seconds) of Ladytown’s midnight-to-morning happenings, courtesy of Roger Wang ‘11.

People come, people dance, people go, but through it all, Yellow Hat stays anchored in the foreground, plugging away. What focus! What grit! What determination!  Truly an inspiration for us all.

wikipedia

Last week’s bat sighting in the Daily Princetonian building got me thinking (in numbered list form):

1a) What other critters might “accidentally” find their way into the office of Princeton’s paper of record?  And which of those animals would be big enough, strange enough, “newsworthy” enough, to force Da’ Prince’ to violate one of the cardinal commandments of journalism: “Thou shalt not report on thyself in the pages of thine own newspaper”?

2a) BATMAN. Thanks to 2005’s Batman Begins, everyone knows that the Caped Crusader attended Princeton in his youth. Attended, past tense. But what if the Prince-bat was meant as a public declaration that the B-man is back?

Well I got to thinkin’, and then I got to investigatin’, and now it’s time for some answerin’ answers.

1b) According to sources at the Prince, either “something big enough to eat you” OR “any animal you wouldn’t expect [ie, any non-indigenous species]” would warrant mention in the paper.  Good to know from a completely theoretical standpoint!

2b) Batman’s actually here. For real for real. His email is batman@princeton.edu.  His job is to keep us safe (from others, sure, but also from ourselves).  He’s not the hero we want; he’s the hero we need. “A silent guardian. A watchful protector.” BUT WHO IS THIS MASKED AVENGER?…

His name is David Tricoche (né Wayne?). He is a Public Safety Lieutenant. He is Batman…@princeton.edu.

We emailed “Lieutenant Tricoche” to find out what’s up.  Does he deny his double life as the Dark Knight?

Yes, he does.

“When email first started at Princeton, to my knowledge everyone was allowed to select their own email name. I’m a comic-anime fan, so I chose the name of a character who I liked,” he wrote. “It does make it easy to remember because it’s simple and stands out.”

Got it, Bru… Lieutenant Tricoche.  Just a netid.  You’re not Batman; Clark Kent is just a “humble reporter”; Peter Parker’s a “science dweeb”; and that grizzly bear and/or toucan in the Prince office tomorrow totally just wandered in off the street, no idea how that happened, it was the weirdest thing.

We feel your pain.  We want you to take better pictures.  And we figured — who better to teach you how than Jane Randall ‘12 of America’s Next Top Model?

Other, unaired revelations from the interview:

• The hair extensions the show gave Jane cost $3000!  She was afraid getting them removed would leave her with “Smeagol hair.”
• Jane was so eager to avoid the “Ivy League Rich Girl” edit that when the other contestants started talking about her father, a pulmonologist, she got up and left the room.
• She prefers looking “angry with her eyes” to “smiling with her eyes.”

Ivano Grasso / The CW

Name: Jane Randall
Age: 20
Major: History
Hometown: Baltimore, MD
Eating club/residential college affiliation: Cottage

Who’s your favorite Princetonian, living or dead, real or fictional?
Carlton from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air.

What’s the best meal you’ve eaten in Princeton?
Anything post-Street.

In one sentence, what do you actually do all day?
Sleep.

What is your greatest guilty pleasure?
Radio Disney

What’s your favorite article of clothing (that you own)?
Anything purple.

What’s the last student performance you saw?
The [Shakespeare] production that was put on in the New Butler amphitheater last year. I could see it all from my room.

What’s the best place on campus for a photoshoot?
Cuyler – I think Ralph Lauren actually shot an ad in the courtyard two summers ago.

What makes you laugh?
South Park.

What makes you cry?
The idea of actually working one day.

Do you know all the words to Old Nassau?
Nope.

Small World or Starbucks?
Starbucks always.

What’s your drink?
Coffee

What’s hanging above your desk and/or bed?
Above my bed there’s a poster of Britney Spears (circa 2004) & the Bieber’s hanging next to my desk.

Where do you do your best thinking?
Driving in the car.

When’s bedtime?
The real question is when am I not lying in my bed.

What’s your personal anthem?
Anything Britney.

Where is the worst place on campus?
Any place above the second floor – it’s just not worth it.

Who is your mortal enemy?
Sue Sylvester

When’s the last time you used cash?
10 minutes ago when I went to Target. Apparently I forgot to bring sheets with me back to school.

In 25 years, I will be…
45

What makes someone a Princetonian?
Someone who knows reunions are every year.

Ivano Basso, The CW

Cameras capture light, light reflects off surfaces — and that, dear readers, is where Reality Television must halt, unable to penetrate any further.

Try as you might, you simply can’t suck a person’s inner life into a videocamera, smash it into a million pixels, and then project what remains onto a TV screen. Scientifically impossible, I say!  Instead, all you can hope to capture are those aforementioned surfaces; all you can show are actions, not thought.

Not thoughts, hopes, and dreams, but cussing, fighting, and drinking: these are the building blocks of reality TV personhood, made available to editors for endless stacking and restacking until something like a character gets formed.

Someone like Snooki from Jersey Shore is an editor’s dream. She’s a wholly external creature: impulse translates directly into speech and action without the delay of unfilmable, tempering contemplation. And when Snooki acts, she acts BIG. To laugh is to snort, to drink is to guzzle, to cuss is to emit more [BLEEPS] per minute than a turn-of-the-century telegraph operator.

Snooki, in short, has a Reality Television “personality” – which is to say, an extreme one. Jane Randall ’12 does not, as America’s Next Top Model’s judges have remarked again and again, especially on tonight’s episode, which saw her land in the bottom two come elimination time for that very reason.

This doesn’t mean Jane is actually boring. I want to make that clear. In the real world, possessing some degree of quiet interiority (”unSnookiness”) a good thing. This “no personality” business also doesn’t make Jane a bad model, which is why she’s now made the competition’s Final Four in Milan. (The girl looks gorgeous even in candids, as the above picture demonstrates).

But as Top Model eliminations progress and the show is forced to spend more time on fewer contestants, the show’s producers (including Tyra Banks,  ANTM’s executive producer – and, in an flagrant conflict of interest, head judge) begin to put more of a premium on “personality” when choosing who to keep.

Indeed, the “no personality” elimination is legendary, and much-maligned, among longtime fans of the show. Producers can tell in a few days which models bring “drama” and which ones don’t (Use or disuse of the phrase “Stank ho poured beer on my weave” is generally seen as a reliable indicator on this front.  And yes, I’ve referenced that phrase in two straight recaps — what can I say, it’s the gift that keeps on giving.  Unlike weave itself, which apparently gets ruined by a single dousing of Beast.).

The larger fashion business may have use for the show’s quieter contestants; indeed, they’re often among the most plausible models of each season because their looks, not an over-the-top personality, got them cast. But Top Model itself, which is in the business of creating the biggest, most dramatic storylines possible, values these girls far less.

And so, season after season, the judges begin to harp on a few of the low-key girls’ supposed lack of presence, insisting that off-set personality is simply essential in the world of modeling (a suspect claim, to say the least, in a fashion industry that too often treats models like barely-glorified clotheshangers). Then, about halfway through the competition, these “no personality” models get cut for no good reason.

One notable victim was Season 10’s Katarzyna, who, like Jane, is an Ivy League student (she went to Cornell), and therefore had an active incentive not to have a personality — that is, not to give editors unfiltered, unguarded moments to work with.

Editors, see, love to portray Ivy Leaguers as one-dimensionally rich, haughty, and conceited, and all they need to do that is lift a few out-of-context quotes from a week’s worth of filming.

When Top Model’s judges first met Jane, they immediately questioned her about owning horses – and before she could even finish answering, one judge cut in, drawling: “Oh how priiiveleggeddd…”

But Jane refused to play along, even when producers continued to raise the topic of her moneyed background in interviews. “I could kind of tell where they were going with the questions. I think I did a good job of giving them a hard time when they asked me about money,” Randall told the Princeton Alumni Weekly.

Can’t make Jane into a rich b**ch? Might as well tell her she has “no personality” – a nasty thing to hear in the real world, made all the more devastating in the vacuum of Top Model, which forbids contestants from reading books, watching TV, listening to music or seeing relatives for weeks on end.  So keep hammering that personality thing!  Who knows? It might just cause her to break down.

In fact, that’s exactly what happened during this week’s photoshoot. The contestants had to portray statues brought to life by their male-model sculptor (Jane: “I’ve been told I look stiff in my photos, so this should be perfect for me.” Wit!)

Top Model’s shoot director went after her hard, perhaps displaying the kind of “exquisite sadism” some say is the show’s hallmark.

Jay Manual [shoot director]: You have a boyfriend, right?
Jane: No.
Jay: It shows.

And so Jane wept. Fiercely.

Ivano Grasso/The CW

Later, in a more cooly contemplative mood on the day before judging, Jane told the camera, “I’m just annoyed that I can’t present myself better – I need to do something, or else I’ll leave.”

There were no more photoshoots or challenges left before Jane was set to face the panel.  Whatever, then, could she have meant by “do something”?

Perhaps this: Once it was Jane’s turn to step in front of the judges, she once again burst in to tears, protesting, “I do have a personality!”

And behold, in that very moment, our own Jane Randall Twelve did indeed have a personality.  In fact, for this episode, she had the Biggest Personality Of Them All. As I said before, in Reality TV “personality” always means action. But on ANTM, not all actions are created equal.  Oh no!  One stands clearly above all the rest – and I don’t mean “modeling”. (What show have you been watching for the past fifteen seasons?)

I’m talking about crying, the only action that gives a show a built-in little moment of pathos, a moment set to the kind of sad, slow music that shows use when they want you to Feel Things. Reality TV professionals are master manipulators, and a crying scene replete with tinkling plinkling sädmusik (to borrow Mozart’s coinage) allows them to deploy their powers to maximum effect. They made a girl cry, and now they’ll try to make you cry too!  Bow down, mortals! The Editors are back in town, and they’re comin’ for your tearducts!

Jane might have once had “no personality” in the strict Reality Television sense, but she sure isn’t dumb: thanks to her well-timed breakdown, she got to stay on the show despite landing in the bottom two. After announcing Jane’s safety, Tyra, who ate up Jane’s tears like they were so many ribs, told her:

“The reason why your name was called is because the judges saw some passion in this room. They saw a real human being. They saw a crack of a real true person.”

If I had to use the word “crack” to describe Top Model, that wouldn’t exactly be the first meaning to come to mind, but you know what? I ain’t mad at Tyra. As long as Jane’s still in the competition, I’ll happily keep skimming the surface — the shiny, glossy, candy-coated surface — of this sublimely silly show.

Speaking of sublimely silly, here’s the episode description for next week: “Tyra directs the girls during a motion editorial challenge that requires them to bring their poses to life with movement and emotion. Following this week’s double elimination, Tyra premieres her directorial debut of “Disturbato.”

What an intriguing tribute to Italian cinema! Who’s up for a Banks/Fellini double feature?

From: XXXXXX@princeton.edu
Subject: Private Invitation
Date: October XX, 2010

You are invited to attend a naked party at  XXXXXX Hall this Thursday at 9pm. This is not a general invitation, but an invite for YOU; interested friends are welcome, but please let us know who they are beforehand – we’d like to keep this gathering under control.

(For a brief overview of naked parties, you can read this. Note that this isn’t an orgy, just a party sans-clothing.)

Some rules / guidelines:

• To participate in the naked party you must be completely naked. We’ll have a staging area in our room for you to undress in – please bring a bag of some sort to keep your clothes in.
• Please don’t bring cameras or recording devices
• Please don’t come smashed to the party. Comfortably tipsy is fine, but don’t go crazy.
• We want to keep this somewhat under wraps, so exciting as it is, please don’t tell the whole world.

You are welcome to bring a towel or cloth to sit on if you like. You can also bring wine or beer to contribute to the refreshments.

When we know who is coming we’ll send out a list of attendees so everyone feels comfortable. For this reason, please let me know as soon as possible if you plan on attending.

Get psyched!
XXXXXX

Perhaps my procrastination is for the best. In all likelihood, you, like me, are just not Over It enough to really reflect on all that happened to Team Nassoon between the starting line and their Swedish sendoff.  Even using the past tense hurts right now, knowing that it’s all over for them, for us. One minute people you semi-know are mushing dogs and pitching tents in Lapland, and the next they’re just gone?

It’s like, is that it?  Is that the “real” we’re supposed to take away from “Reality TV” — that people just leave, and there’s no reason why, and we’re all supposed to be a-OK with it? How bleak. How horribly bleak. How cold and hard and bleak that is, like the frosty tundra our boys got stranded on as the Race passed them by:

But wait! All is not lost. Apparently someone eventually remembered about the permafrost-bound Princetonians, because here they are arriving at Elimination Station:

Elimination Station, if you’re unfamiliar, is the online-only audiovisual program that asks the question: What do you get when when you sequester a bunch of Amazing Race rejects in a Cancun-ian villa for three weeks?

I’ll tell you what you get:  fitfully compelling web entertainment at its most fitfully compelling. Elimination Station is kind of like a shorter, even lower budget Big Brother, but with a cast featuring 100% fewer sexually liberated cocktail waitresses.  Or maybe it’s more like an old-person Real World where people “Stop being real… And start getting polite.”  In any case, it’s awkward, and also appointment viewing for the next eight weeks of your life.

Edited to add: Oh!  Perhaps amid all this “Where do we go from here” navel-gazery, you found yourself wondering, “But what of Schwartz and DY?  Where will they go?” Look no further than this interview with TVGuide.com:

TVGuide.com: What are you up to now?
Connor: I’m actually leaving in two days for South Korea. I’m going to work with South Korean PBS. I’m going to be writing and acting in children’s educational videos, so I’ll be teaching children English and I’ll also be writing educational materials for them.
Jonathan: I’m performing in the Broadway musical Spider-Man that opens in a little while.

Mathieu Young/The CW

Models today are kind of like children in the Victorian Era. To the grownups who run the fashion industry, they’re meant to be seen, not heard.

America’s Next Top Model reaches consistently thrilling creative heights by turning that truism on its head.  It’s a simple concept: Mic up some models, set them loose, and listen in.  With any luck, you can then grace the airwaves with bons mots that would turn even Wilde green with envy; for example, “Stank ho poured beer on my weave.”

As I discussed in my previous recap, though, Our Jane of Princeton is a special case: the more she’s shown talking, the worse she does.  Last week, a sudden case of the chatters set her up for a brush with elimination.

In tonight’s episode, Our Jane happily returned to her more circumspect ways, and her relative silence proved, if not golden, then at least good enough to grab the silver: her photoshoot with legendary Vogue photographer Patrick Demarchelier earned her the second callout to safety during judging panel.

And oh did angels weep with joy!

Lord knows I could testify ’till the sun goes down about Jane Randall Twelve’s miraculous redemption this cold autumn night; I could wax rhapsodic about the celestial fire in her eyes, the ethereal lightness of her posing; I could sing ’till hoarseness of Demarchelier’s holy encouragement, sacred as a blessing from the Pope on Christmas.

Lord knows I could do all this and more, rain down praise ’till all is sea save one little ark, floating ‘cross the world pair-by-pair plus Jane, smizer sui generis, one of a kind.

I could do all this and more, but instead I’ll take a cue from Jane herself and let the pictures do the talking:

Patrick Demarchelier/Pottle Productions Inc

Patrick Demarchelier/Pottle Productions Inc

Patrick Demarchelier/Pottle Productions Inc

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