And the saga continues…

Date: Fri, 20 Apr 2001 15:06:09 EDT

From: Portmanbook@cs.com

To: schainan@fas.harvard.edu

Dear Soman,

Thank you for spelling my name correctly (a basic skill for any aspiring journalist) and thank you for mentioning "Dixie's Dirty Secret," a book that is, in part, an account of my work on behalf of civil rights in Mississippi in the 1960s. The KKK gave that book terrible reviews—and, as always, I was happy to receive them. I am proud of my work on behalf of equal rights for African Americans and Jews, and if you are on the other side of that issue, I urge you to thoughtfully reconsider your position.

Since you are now part of the book about Natalie Portman, I would appreciate it if you would send a photo for use in the book. Even better perhaps, a photo of you and Natalie skipping together across the campus. Do you have a Star Wars costume you could wear?  Keep up the good work.

Your pal,

James

ELECT SOMAN FOR PSLM PUBLICIST!

Every day I groan inwardly when I read about the PSLM’s ploys to get attention and their relentless displays of self-righteousness. It’s very clear what these guys need to get what they want—a publicist. And who better to do the job? That’s right, I volunteer to be the PSLM publicist. Hooray! In recent days, the scene outside Mass Hall has gotten at least a little spicier—the fluorescent poster trail has gradually creeped from the administrative walls over to Matthews (I love the one that says “Econ TFs Want a Living Wage”), weirdo hippies in tie-dyed t-shirts (from Emerson or Northeastern, no doubt) take advantage of the free housing in the tent-covered yard, and creepy music continues to emanate from the stands in front of the protest. (I heard Native American chants booming from a stereo one afternoon. Granted, the Indians were oppressed and we did take their land and rape their children, but I fail to see how crimes against the Cherokee have anything to do with the living wage campaign. But maybe I’m just naïve.) In any case, the PSLM has already martyred itself to draw national attention, so why not take the grandstanding to a whole new level? As PSLM publicist, here’s what I suggest…

First things first, the PSLM needs a vision. And I’m thinking five-star Las Vegas showgirls-and-exploding-volcanoes entertainment—if they’re gonna expect us to be out there every night supporting the cause, then they need to make it worth our while. Start with a nightly fireworks display—and not just a few cheesy firecrackers, sparklers or flares to suggest a one-time stunt. I’m talking a spectacular, impossible-to-miss fireworks extravaganza in the night sky every single evening—like Disney World! (Popcorn and hotdog stands are optional, but would be a nice touch). Even more importantly, the PSLM needs its own set of cheerleaders. Five booty-licious babes who will wave their pom-poms and form pretty pyramids in front of Mass Hall every hour on the hour. It might be difficult to come up with cheers that can incorporate “Living Wage Now” into a suitable rhyme scheme, but I’m confident that a few diligent Harvard brains can overcome that minor hurdle (though a “brrrrr…it’s cold in here, there must be some Toros in the atmosphere” cheer would be such a welcome touch.) Hmmm, and now that I think about it, since the PSLM is upset that Harvard is stuck in the dark ages when it comes to the living wage, how about a medieval-theme formal? Since Harvard Yard has never had a proper formal, we could recreate Camelot in

front of Mass Hall, complete with a jousting tournament and round-table discussions. (For those of you PSLM members who are starting to fume and feel that sending me a nasty e-mail is the best way to release that anger, just count to 10, then think of rainbows and little tweeting parakeets, and then go buy yourself a fudge-covered banana split. See, that wasn’t so hard!)

And last but not least, while we’re out trying to help University workers, we really need to save those poor lobsters that Harvard murders by the thousand for the Clambake every year. So once the sit-in is over, we’ll change the “L” in PSLM to “Lobster” and my job as publicist will remain intact. Only this time, instead of tents and sit-ins, we’ll just let 6,000 lobsters free in Harvard Yard. Of course, since lobsters can’t survive without water, we can either flood the Yard or use crabs instead.

TREND-O-RAMA: IT’S ALL ABOUT ME

With all the self-promotion going on in Hollywood these days, getting attention seems to be harder than ever. But two of my favorite celebs have figured out a way to make even the most jaded cynics perk their ears and pay attention. Eminem will appear buck naked in the June issue of UK Cosmopolitan. Eminem naked in Cosmo?  It’s something I expect from Jennifer Lopez or Lara Flynn Boyle, but not from the guy who ridicules his sex symbol status on the Marshall Mathers LP. Oh well, I guess if sales are the most important thing to a person… I find it especially amusing that the Cosmo girls held a press conference to announce a full month in advance that he’ll be naked in the issue—which will, of course, be wrapped in plastic bags.

My favorite story of the week involves Angelina Jolie’s recent appearance at a magazine cover shoot. According to the New York Post, she showed up with a vial of red liquid around her neck which she refused to take off, pooh-poohed all outfits suggestions, and had a set of fresh wounds on her arms. When asked about the cuts, she volunteered the reason: “I have to cut myself before sex,” said Jolie. Angelina, of course, has made it no secret that she enjoys wild sex with her husband Billy Bob Thornton (they want to pad the walls of their bedroom because their foreplay tends to be violent). But Jolie turned from playful to nasty when the photographer insisted that she take the vial-necklace off for the shoot. She whirled around and hissed, “It’s my husband’s blood!”

SOMAN’S SHORTS

For the original authorized version of this column, see www.somanintheknow.com...because certain subjects are too risqué for newsprint. Bigger, longer, uncut…Bought the new A-Teens CD, Teen Spirit. A*Teens, remember, were those boobs who released a whole album of Abba covers. Well, the new record has some wonderfully catchy tunes. But these lyrics! Here are some sample lines: “My grades go down from A’s to B’s. / I’m way behind in history / My head is full of fantasies / Of you and me together,” “Firefly come back to me / Make the night as bright as day / I’ll be looking out for you / Tell me that you’re lonely too” (my worldly friend Nia points out that female fireflies often devour male fireflies if they're not suitable for mating)…The new Tennis Magazine cover story on Anna Kournikova is a wonderful history of a not-so-wonderful player. If you’re befuddled as to what all the fuss is about, get your Anna-tude primer ASAP…The single greatest procrastination site in the world–www.mediaunbound.com. Go and try the Audio-Insight demonstration. You put in your music tastes and they will process a 12-minute mix of all the songs they think you’ll like. It’s fantastic stuff…Ben Affleck stumped for Gore in dozens of states, put in countless hours urging people to get out and vote and proclaimed himself a good Democrat—and then we find out that he himself never voted? Check out www.thesmokinggun.com for the proof…If I see the Pearl Harbor trailer one more time, I’m going to send Gwyneth Paltrow a stink bomb. (Yes, yes, a total non-sequitur figuring that Gwyneth isn’t in Pearl Harbor, but a) wouldn’t it be just like her to be in a movie like it? and b) doesn’t Gwyneth deserve a stink bomb in the mail anyway?)…The Writers Guild of America, pissed off that reality TV shows don’t use union workers, are determined to ruin Survivor 2. They’ve advertised a list of the people getting voted off in the coming weeks. If you’re curious, check it out on www.survivorsucks.com…Next week will be the last In the (K)now ever! I’ll be quite sad to say goodbye to this, my little corner of the world. But be sure to tune in—I’ll be going out with a bang. The last column will appear in Arts and the rest of the final week festivities will happen online at www.somanintheknow.com. Expect celebrity cameos.