Scientific American weighs in

Scientific American weighs in

Scientific American weighs in

It's my first review of me! And it's a pan!

Sadly, my biggest complaint about the show was one of the parts I was most excited about: the segment on meteorites reported by senior editor Adam Rogers.


I was distracted by his stilted delivery–it's a pace somewhat similar to Kevin Nealon's "Mr. Subliminal," but a little slower. Also, it was bizarre watching Rogers digging up earth while wearing upward-mobile hipster chic: blazer (over ringed T-shirt, of course, in lieu of a collared shirt), nice slacks and what appeared to be suede shoes. It was like some sort of 21st century revival of Green Acres or something. There was also the part of the segment when he was in utter disbelief over the pricing (and naming) of meteorites at the Dallas store Mineral Hunters. He kept referring to the merchandise as souvenirs, which seemed to irk the owner–and was not totally unlike when Borat entered the Confederate relic store on big screens this fall.

So this is weird for me, because I've never been reviewed as a performer before—and let's face it, when you go on television, you're performing, even when you're also trying to commit journalism. And in any case, I can't really argue with that description of my delivery—the writer later says that I'm "no stranger to parentheses and the emdash" (and that's true).

In fact, some of my best friends are em dashes.

(Actually, until this month's issue, Wired used space-en dash-space. But with the redesign, we now use em dashes. It's taking some time to relearn.)

The fact is, putting a show on television means people will review it, and smart people like SciAm's blogger will necessarily make smart observations. That said, we're all very proud of the TV show we made. We believe it stands on its own as quality science journalism, and we further believe that it's an indication of even better episodes to come, if PBS picks up the series.

Meanwhile, if you need me I'll be under my desk, curled in the fetal position and sobbing quietly, having raided the Start Lounge liquor cabinet for any kind of solace....