The Squiggly Hip Font Of Geographical Introduction assists in letting us know that we are in "Philadelphia," but an ensuing montage of drab state-owned buildings and a sweep of some impeccably geographically rectangular high-rise office complexes makes me wonder if the folks at B/M haven't accidentally spliced in a few disparate shots from the Ohio Civic Association's much-sought-after guide to Midwest cities, "Getting To Know Your Downtown Dayton." Inside of a slow-moving van (the better to leisurely view the daily workings of life in one of America's principal cities for commerce and culture...and also to see Philadelphia!), Kameelah and Genesis field questions from Poor, Poor Anthony concerning the whereabouts of the other attending housemates: "So, either of you know what happened to Sean and Syrus?" Genesis barely grunts out a "no," and whatever comment she may have chosen to utter on this or any other matter (which, if history be our guide, was probably some odd non-sequitur of the "My mamma, she done drink the moonshine" variety) was doubtlessly edited out to account for time and narrative cohesion. Kameelah hops on the defensive, and it is immediately clear from her response that Anthony has asked this question somewhere in the area of two hundred and fifty billion times in the elapsed five seconds between the end of last week's episode and the beginning of this one. And thus she responds, "We stayed in the room all night. We went to bed." The Squiggly Hip Font Of Character Introduction takes a moment to identify a quiet and contemplative Anthony as "Anthony, Director, After School Program," so to better differentiate him from "Anthony, Trapeze Artist" or "Anthony, Personal Assistant To Bronson Pinchot" or "Anthony, Smooth Jazz Radio DJ" or "Anthony, Prime Minister Of Bosnia," so infrequently has he appeared in an episode of the Boston season EVERY SINGLE WEEK of the Boston season. Thanks for the reminder, though, Squiggly Hip Font. Otherwise I might not have recognized him at all.
Cut to...Sweet Lord McGillicuddy, another public transportation montage? Hey, Real World? If I sign an affidavit swearing that I'll never forget the fact that earthbound humans lacking the power of flight or of time travel must, indeed, move from locale to locale via certain pre-established modes of transit, will you knock off the whole "Take the train to the plane" PSA schtick already? Thanks. I'm so glad we had this talk. Now inside a moving train that serves as worse product-placement for Amtrak than a thousand Unbreakable trailers playing simultaneously, staff and volunteers and children alike writhe uncomfortably in their too-small, itchy-fabric-covered seats while Anthony paces around the car whispering, "Hey, you know what? They don't want to be a part of our team, they shouldn't be with us here. That's how I feel." Wait. Who's that guy? The one with that accent?
Wining And Whining
I still don't really know why they're in Philadephia. But the installment of Circumstantial Encounters With Famous People -- that seemed to begin last week with Oprah giving a speech and Jimmy Carter waving and Bill Clinton popping up out of a bowl of soup -- continues here when Kameelah, suddenly outside, running like a madwoman yelling, "Oh my God!" Cut to her talking to a man The Squiggly Hip Font Of Character Introduction informs us is "LL Cool J" (it stands for "Ladies Love Cool James," is what it stands for), ranting on wildly, "I'm not psycho or anything, but we're here with ten children from East Boston, and I was wondering if it would be possible for you to meet them. We were talking about you all last night." In response, Cool (may I call you "Cool"?) nods and tosses out a real chill, "No problem." And you know what? I'm going to forgo the really cynical comment about the sudden altruism and good will toward the children of America that this musical recording artist seems to possess as soon as the MTV cameras show up and start rolling. Instead, I will choose to believe that Cool is genuinely interested in making these lives as full as possible, and that every time a young, out-of-breath woman runs up to him and assures him that she is, in fact, "not psycho," he drops whatever he's doing for a nice, extended meet and greet with the fans. Repeat after me, idealistic types: this is not a publicity stunt. Here I go, believing that: "Awwww. Look at Cool go. Go Cool, go. I might just change my own name to IL Cool J, because at this moment more than any other, I too really love cool James." Cool! Cool! Cool! Cool! Cool!
Meet and greet montage. Have I mentioned my fondness for Cool? Yes? Good. Autographs are signed and photos are snapped. Moments after the publicity stu-- I mean "altruism and good will toward these, the children of America" -- Kameelah and Poor, Poor Anthony share a hug, Kameelah pronouncing the entire experience "so dope." And now to some kind of sporting stadium, the bleachers filled with people and the chaperones accompanying the children across the crowded field area. An announcement informs the throngs that "LL Cool J is in the house," and the place goes wild. Genesis and Kameelah laugh and share a few haughty "been there, done that" high fives, because they had the forethought to sign the intellectual property that is THEIR LIVES over to MTV for half a year in exchange for the opportunity to shake hands with a few celebrities. So, y'know, go them.
Wining And Whining
“ Nice jean shorts, Sean. I know this was, like, 1996 and all, but I'm writing this from my lofty perch of retrospect and I think you look like a dork so ha ha ha, dork. ”
Oh, a confessional! Speak, Genesis: "Kids were asking, y'know, 'Where is [sic] Sean and Syrus?' And the only explanation I could possibly give them was that they got the times mixed up and they were gonna make it later." Cut to a dumb close-up of a concerned-looking kid, as if he's supposed to be thinking, "Where oh where are the great Sean and Syrus?" If he's thinking about them at all -- which he's not, Clever Editing Supervisor -- the concern is entirely on account of him wondering, "If he's not here now, does that automatically mean that Syrus is off somewhere bonin' my mom? And if so, does that make him my new daddy?" Just then, the announcer celebrates the presence of "America's number-one volunteer couple, Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter!" I'll bet Jimmy Carter has like ten zillion mugs with that written on it. Just at this moment, Sean and Syrus march up behind Genesis and Montana. And not to strain the visual metaphor too much, but the juxtaposition of those two cast members and the Carter introduction really drives home the analogy that Sean and Syrus are to The Real World what Jimmy Carter was to the U.S. presidency. The whole Boston season is like the Jimmy Carter of Real World seasons, in fact. Not that we've actually been in Boston in recent memory.
Montana asks Sean how the hell he knew where to go to find them, and he fills her in that they "cabbed it." I...oh. That explains everything. Because it's the frequent time I have hopped in cab and announced, "Take me to the place where I don't know where I'm going," only to find myself at the appropriate destination a short time later. I hope they gave that guy some kind of killer tip. And, nice jean shorts, Sean. I know this was, like, 1996 and all, but I'm writing this from my lofty perch of retrospect and I think you look like a dork so ha ha ha, dork. A non-contrite confessional offers Sean's internal monologue on the matter: "I guess I'm setting an example for these kids, and I'm showin' up late. So I was in big trouble." Anthony wilts when Sean asks, "Are you disgusted with me?" (correct answer: "yes"), offering that cop-out of undisciplinary parents and passive-aggressive girlfriends everywhere, "I'm a little disappointed." Tell me about it. Pushover.
What is this, Pop-Up Real World? "The Squiggly Hip Font Of..." feature is in freakin' overdrive this week, introducing everything in sight. An aerial shot of Boston alerts us that we're in a place called "Boston," and a shot inside of the firehouse alerts us that Elka is lying on the couch with someone named "Walter." Because she's so often to be found cohabiting with so many different men (often over the course of one episode...often over the course of one scene) that it's important someone come along and clarify who she's with right now. Whatever. Lying together on the couch, Walter offers, "It's breakfast time. I'm glad you came down and brought me my cup of tea." Heh. Brits and their tea. Elka, still practically asleep, offers that she needs to learn how to make coffee, and Walter believes that she has just said that she is going to make coffee and coffee bean hilarity ensues at this conversational juncture.