A SPECIAL BEN-NETH EDITION OF IN THE (K)NOW!

TREND-O-RAMA: BEN AFFLECK SIGHTINGS

Up until last Saturday, I had avoided certain rites of passage at Harvard. I had never peed on John Harvard (I keep imagining the poor Japanese tourists who have no idea what they're getting into when they kiss the statue's foot for good luck), never had sex in the Widener stacks (if you're gonna have sex in a library, at least do it in Langdell-the lighting is more erotic), and I'd never been to the Grille. Never been to the Grille, you say! My perennial excuse: "Um, helllo. I'm way too trendy and way too cutting edge for a Cambridge sports bar" (translation: I don't have a good enough I.D.).So I stayed away. Until Saturday.

Actually, the Grille was exactly what I expected-lots of freshmen (I saw my whole Ec 10 section), some extremely sketchy senior girls, and uh, the entire [insert sport here] team. "Sometimes Matt Damon and Ben Affleck come here to hang out," a friend chimed in as we entered. "Yeah, maybe pre-Good Will Hunting. No movie star would be caught dead in here," I retorted just as I got poked in the eye with a greasy buffalo wing. But what do you know, when my vision clears, I see another greasy buffalo-in this case, Mr. Affleck in the corner of the bar, chatting it up with Sarah Ryan and Jennie Tarr. Now don't get your panties in a bunch, Sarah and Jennie fans, I'm not going to wail on them. In fact, I think the girls are rather astute for figuring out that if Ben was lame enough to be at the Grille on a Saturday night (doesn't he have a premiere to go to?), he'd certainly be up for some chit-chat with a couple of cute Harvard undergrads.

In fact, I even wanted to saunter up to him myself and calmly explain why I think Gwyneth is a boob and a poor choice for a mate, but a field hockey girl accidentally elbowed me in the jaw and by the time I recovered, they were ushering the crowd out of the bar.

Through the rumor mill, I hear that a group of girls accompanied him back to his suite at the Charles and eventually they all ended up at the Fly. Uh-huh, not only did Ben stoop to being a Grille rat, he also wanted to check out our final-club scene. Sigh. Didn't Ben Affleck used to be cool? This is so indicative of a larger problem.

GWYNESAURUS REX!

You knew it was coming, it was just a question of when. How long could I hold it in?

Well, the time has come to revisit the Gwynesaurus. I think the last time I discussed the Boo Hoo Hooligan, I left you with this closing thought. "Do I think Gwyneth Paltrow is a terrible person? No. Do I think she's the devil? Absolutely." Let there be no doubt, however, that I not only hate Gwyneth Paltrow, but I hate the very idea of Gwyneth Paltrow. Every time I chance upon her pouty, fresh-faced visage, salon-tended hair and clothes that you just know she didn't pay for, I feel my blood start to boil. I get the primal, irrepressible urge to jump on a cross-country bus to wherever she's shooting, run up to her in the middle of a scene and kick her in the knee. And let there be no doubt that right after I bruise her shin, I will make a very bad face at her.

After Shakespeare in Love and her shameful performance at the Oscars last year, Paltrow thankfully lay low for a short time. Too short in my opinion, because now she's about to be back in theaters with Bounce, and everyone's content to revisit and re-hype Ben-neth.

But I tried to ignore her. I valiantly resisted against every temptation. But then Ben Affleck unintentionally made it personal. In an interview, he gushed, "She does yoga for an hour and a half each day. She speaks French, she speaks fluent Spanish and she speaks passable conversational Italian. She knows about art history, architecture, culture, style and wine. And she knows all about football, too. It really makes you feel inadequate." I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead. I made a checklist in my head-I'm not limber enough for yoga (plus I think some positions should only be practiced in, well, whatever), I can't speak French, my Spanish has degenerated into grade-A Spanglish, and I only know the words "caprese" and "fiorello" in Italian. Art history always profoundly befuddled me, I confuse gothic and Romanesque architecture, my brother constantly accuses of me not only of being uncultured but also tasteless, I'm always behind a season when it comes to style, and last but not least, wine gives me a thunderous headache. I swallowed hard before putting it all together. Gasp-I'm not as cool as Gwyneth Paltrow. Despair...devastation.... death.

"But wait," I thought. "She also got dumped by Brad Pitt for Jennifer Aniston." Gone were the feelings of inadequacy, and I headed out to Toscanini's for a hot vanilla (so good!).

The truth is, Gwyneth Paltrow still breathes rarefied air, still has stringy hair and still has absolutely nothing to say. My opinions were reconfirmed when I heard about how she recently introduced a journalist visiting her on-set to her live-in sidekick. "This is Leela," said the Grand Trollope. "Leela's my yoga teacher and she makes me organic, macrobiotic lunches that are delicious. What are we having today?" "Spelt," says Leela. "Spelt," says Gushy Gwyneth, "is more easily digestible than wheat. Wheat's very hard on your immune system. But I promise you, you practice Ashtanga every day and you eat like this, nothing can stop you."

Ashtanga or no Ashtanga, I'm thinking, if I bop you in the knee, that's gonna stop you.

IN THE (K)NOW SUPERSTARS!

Two more It People:

IT BOY: Amias Gerety '02. Sure, there are some nice performances in Sweet Charity, but watch for Amias' scene-stealing smirk that appears regardless of the show's tone at a particular moment. If the HRDC ever puts on a live-action Archie production, ladies and gentlemen, I think we've found our Jughead.

IT GIRL: L. Zoe Tananbaum '02. I reaaalllly didn't like Zoe Tannenbaum after I first met her. Not that I knew her. She just reminded me of Gwyneth Paltrow. With her pretty face and perfect hair and cool clothes and flavor-of-the-month cellphone, Zoe was the uber-chick of the New York crowd. In good time, however, I realized that Zoe is, in fact, infinitely more intelligent than the Gwynesaurus and is one of those hip, wonderfully unique characters you must meet before you leave Harvard.

SOMAN'S SHORTS

www.somanintheknow.com. Now featuring online personal ads!...The Crimson shoot process to decide new editors tends to show people's true colors. And what hearts of darkness I have seen! In any case, I'll be out of a job this Friday...Ok, ok, so I'm from Florida and I couldn't vote because of this retarded absentee rule which demands that I show up in person to get my ballot. Helllo? That's why I'm an absentee. In any case, four other family members didn't vote so it looks like the vote's going to come down to all the absentee Indians...In terms of possible solutions to the recount problem, I like the one proposed on Conan the best: "Governor Bush is president in the red states and the Vice President takes the blue states." Hell yeah! Give the fascist Idaho and Utah. But what happens to Florida, you ask? Sell it to Cuba for a nice pack of cigars!...Lara Flynn Boyle had flings with Jack Nicholson, Bruce Willis, and Harrison Ford back to back. Can we say Father Fetish?...Britney Spears got her nipples pierced. Sigh. So predictable....As soon as I get my job, I'm going to chop my hair off and go platinum both in rebellion against corporate culture and in celebration of blonde nymphets. I don't think La Flamme will do the trick. E-mail me with your favorite stylists...Since I am supposed to be cutting-edge, I flouted a green sports vest and matching pants to lunch the other day and was immediately greeted with a chorus of jeers from my blocking group. "You look like the sixth member of 'NSync," said one. "Hooray!" I replied. But the boos and flying butternut squash drove me back to my room to change. Sigh. The pressures of being a pop culture icon.

Questions, Comments, Air Hockey Strategy Tips? E-mail schainan@fas

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