Poker Kings
Follow the trail of kings and queens and pocket aces long enough, and eventually you will find Ashok Surapaneni.
Below are your search results. You can also try a Basic Search.
Follow the trail of kings and queens and pocket aces long enough, and eventually you will find Ashok Surapaneni.
Merriam-Webster has two definitions for the three-syllable "fabulist" -- "1: a creator or writer of fables, 2: LIAR."
Merriam-Webster has two definitions for the three-syllable "fabulist" -- "1: a creator or writer of fables 2: LIAR." The second is perhaps the more appropriate, at least for Stephen Glass, whose newly released book's title -- The Fabulist -- sums up what he was doing until five years ago, when his reputation and journalistic ambitions came crashing down around him. Glass himself was a fabulist in a profession that values accuracy -- the New Republic finally fired Glass in 1998 after discovering the fictitious characters in his "Hack Heaven," and later discovered fabrications in 27 of the 41 stories he had written. Following national embarrassment, Glass all but disappeared, only to emerge five years later, complete with a Georgetown Law School degree and a new book. This time, Glass has returned to his forte -- fiction. Although highly autobiographical, Simon & Schuster's The Fabulist is the admittedly fictitious story of a young writer named Stephen Glass whose lies and fabricated stories eventually led to his demise. "While this novel was inspired by certain events in my life, it does not recount the actual events of my life," Glass's note stated. "This book is a work of fiction, a fabrication, and this time, an admitted one." Still, it was in journalism's cold, hard facts -- at least ostensibly -- where Glass got his start. A former Daily Pennsylvanian executive editor who began freelancing for the New Republic in 1995, Glass soon emerged as an up-and-coming young writer. After all, his stories were interesting ones that everyone wanted to read, complete with the perfect anecdotes and the perfect quotes. "Everything around him turned out to be incredibly vivid or zany or in some way memorable," said current New Republic Literary Editor Leon Wieseltier in a "60 Minutes" interview Sunday night. "At the meetings, we used to wait for Steve's turn so that he could report on his next caper." Glass said he loved the meetings just as much as Wieseltier and was always happy to share his latest, most exciting journalistic endeavor. "I loved the electricity of people liking my stories," Glass said in the "60 Minutes" interview. "I loved going to story conference meetings and telling people what my story was going to be, and seeing the room excited. I wanted every story to be a home run." "He was aching to please," Wieseltier agreed in the interview. But Charles Lane, a current Washington Post staff writer and Glass' editor at the New Republic, said he believes there is more to the story than simply Glass' desire for acceptance. "He's portraying this as though he did it because he felt a desperate need to be loved," Lane said. "You had to be there at the time to see the sort of evident thrill he had in doing all this. He reveled in all this deception. I don't think he was doing this so reluctantly." Yet during the interview, Glass portrayed himself as someone with an illness, and almost an inability to control himself and his lies. Upon seeing one of his fabricated stories run in the New Republic, Glass explained to "60 Minutes" that, "I said to myself what I said every time these stories ran: 'You must stop. You must stop.' But I didn't." The trail of lies had already been set in motion, and his life had become what he described in the interview as "one very long process of lying, and lying again to figure out how to cover those lies." For such a complex web of lies, Glass said the deception began simply enough."I remember thinking, 'If I just had the exact quote that I wanted to make it work, [the story] would be perfect," Glass told "60 Minutes." And so he got it - "I wrote something on my computer and then I looked at it and I let it stand." "I would tell a story and there would be Fact A, which maybe was true, and then there would be Fact B, which was sort of partially true and partially fabricated, and there would be Fact C, which was more fabricated and almost no true, and there would be Fact D, which was a complete whopper and totally not true," Glass explained in the interview. But it was Fact D that sold copies - and eventually landed Glass and the New Republic in serious trouble. "It was the magazine's responsibility to ensure that the stuff that went in was good journalism, and it totally failed in that respect," Lane told "60 Minutes." "The only thing I think you can say in defense of the New Republicwas that we were up against somebody at the time who was really determined to deceive the magazine and that is quite unusual." Glass had an insider's advantage, having been a fact checker at the magazine. "I knew how the system worked and I made it so my stories could get through," Glass said in the interview, describing the series of fake notes, voicemail boxes, business cards and even a website he invented to keep his lies afloat. Glass also explained that he often didn't have to worry about angry sources or letters to the editor. "Much of the time, I wrote fiction stories about fictional people at fictional times doing fictional things," Glass said in the interview. "These people don't write letters." There were real people involved, however, and Glass said that he now understands the magnitude of his actions. "What I did hurt the people I worked with, it hurt my editors, it hurt my family, it hurt my friends, it hurt the readers," Glass said in the interview. Lane, who received a written letter of apology from Glass in June of 1998 --"I'm not saying that that apology back then was perfect or ideal or concluded the story," Lane added -- said he believes that he is not entitled to an apology as much as other writers at the New Republic, who were personally close with Glass. "They went out, hung out together, shared all personal secrets, and there he is just manipulating them and lying to them day in and day out," Lane said. "I didn't apologize to people because I was so ashamed," Glass said in the interview. "I didn't want to give an apology when I didn't yet understand why I had done what I had done wrong." "This is the very beginning of a very, very long process of apologies" -- apologies which began with "60 Minutes" on national television, and coincide with the release of his book. "What you're covering now is contrition as a career move," Wieseltier told "60 Minutes." Similarly, after watching the airing of the show, Lane still remained skeptical about Glass' character metamorphosis. "I'm looking for a little more sincerity as far as his sincerity goes," Lane said. "He's not entitled to the benefit of the doubt anymore, at least not with me personally." And as for The Fabulist?" I don't know how many people are going to buy it," Lane said. "I'm just happy he's not trying to do journalism."
(This article appeared in the 3/31/03 joke issue)
K.
Be sure to make reservations for two -- or 300. After all, with its dim lighting, blue candles, black-clad servers and generally cozy ambiance, circa (yes, with a trendy, lower-case 'c') is the perfect date locale. But the large speakers that sit perched above the elegant dining room belie the fact that the upscale restaurant -- located at 1518 Walnut Street -- turns into a swinging dance club when the hour grows late. Or, when some big recruiting firm rents it out, allowing Wharton students to take advantage of both the wide world of i-banking as well as circa's extensive bar. But if, like the two of us, the night is more of a private affair, then perhaps a glass of wine is the way to start. Despite a large wine list, we began with a blush wine that fell well within the average college student's budget -- at $5.50 a glass. We then followed it by four more, but not before surveying the creative menu. Circa 1518 Walnut Street (215) 545-6800 Fare: American and Continental We began with the circa soup, a light yet creamy lobster bisque. Even at $9 a bowl, it was well worth the green, whetting our appetites for further indulgence. The appetizer selection, however, proved a more difficult choice. It was tough to turn down the carpaccio of beef and the steamed Prince Edward mussels (complete with andouille sausage), but say no we did. Rather, after much deliberation, we ordered the delicious and alliterative crisp calamari, as well as the sweet potato gnocchi at $8.50 and $8, respectively. The gnocchi came with dried fruit, toasted walnuts and gorgonzola sauce, which completed the interesting variance on the traditional Italian dish. But we had barely finished the last tantalizantilous bite when our waitress came to take our "main plates" order. Despite many diversely delicious choices -- Togarashi Spiced Tuna ($24.50), Pan Seared Sea Scallops ($19.75) and Balsamic Poached Cervena Venison ($24) to name a few -- the filet mignon special, accompanied by a beet and potato puree and a merlot demi-glaze, was just too tempting to turn down. So turn it down we didn't. The presentation was almost as good as the filet itself, which masterfully lay atop the red puree, garnished with broccoli. The mixture of red and green, along with the snow outside, reminded us of Christmas morning -- always a happy time. We also ordered the New Zealand Lamb Shank ($23). Dressed with ditalini pasta, white beans and tomatoes, the lamb was so tender that a knife was all but unnecessary. We topped the meal off with the Maple Chevre Cheesecake ($8.50) and the Toffee Stuffed Apple ($7.50). However, the more savvy -- or at least more hungry -- consumer might have opted for the circa Grand Dessert for two, which at $15, comes with two choice desserts from the menu, along with an assortment of truffles and petit fours. It is also interesting to note that circa was not always a haven for couples and partyers alike. In fact, up until the mid-1980s, circa was not circa at all but rather, the Industrial Valley Bank, founded in 1925. It's userous history is notable for two reasons. First, the diner certainly feels the old money presence, complete with a vault downstairs. But more importantly, with great food at reasonable prices, you'll make out like bandits. We sure did.
Georges Perrier is a giant among giants in the Philadelphia restaurant scene. Brasserie Perrier is not Le Bec-Fin -- the crown jewel of Perrier's restaurant empire. Luckily for the self-esteem of Perrier's second restaurant, it does not try to be. And while it may exist both figuratively and literally in Le Bec-Fin (it is at 1619 Walnut Street -- less than a block away) it is a different atmosphere. Brasserie Perrier is marginally less formal and comes much closer to fitting in a realistic college student's budget, staying true to its brasserie inspiration. And yet the restaurant delivers world-class French food that comes with having the Perrier name attached. Brasserie Perrier 1619 Walnut Street (215) 568-3000 Fare: French As we entered and viewed the extensive, 65-seat bar and the lively conversation that flowed from the attached seating area, it was apparent that this was far from a normal, stuffy formal restaurant. Coming into the main dining area, the subdued colors and lighting befit the more relaxed and spirited atmosphere that is conducive to both laughter and flights of fancy which the brasserie hopes to accomplish. We started with the French Onion Soup, Gruyere Crouton ($9). The soup was subtle yet flavorful, and the strong cheese ensured a fresh taste to the last spoonful. Chris Scarduzio, the executive chef at Brasserie Perrier, is generally considered one of the more inventive chefs in the city. To sample a more creative hors d'oeuvre, we ordered the Seared Potato and Goat Cheese Terrine ($13). The unusual yet insightful pairing of subtle flavors worked well together, and the presentation ensured it was pleasing to the eye and the palate. We also ordered as an appetizer, in a slightly less adventurous spirit, a Roasted Maine Lobster ($14). The tail was complemented wonderfully by shiitake mushrooms, asparagus and chili soy butter, bringing out new tastes from an old favorite. For the main course, we each passed on Scarduzio's signature piece, the Crispy Sea Bass ($35), rather indulging in the Peking Duck Breast and Duck Leg Confit ($32) and the Potato Crusted Halibut ($35). And indulge we did. The duck came masterfully presented with the tender sliced leg sitting atop the breast. The portions were more than ample as well as delicious. The meat's flavor was brought out by the unique yet satisfying side dish of turnips cooked in cider. The halibut made it clear that even if sea bass is Scarduzio's speciality, it is not the only fish he can fry. The fish was light enough to give the entire meal the texture of a potato latke, and it was a particularly light and fluffy one at that. We had for dessert the Tiramisu ($9) and a Warm Chocolate Cake with a liquid center ($9). The cake was a delicious if somewhat structurally unsound conclusion. Despite the chocolate, it did not feel particularly heavy even at the end of the hearty feast. The tiramisu was done to perfection as well. The desserts were a wonderful cap to as fine a meal as we have ever had in the city.
He was a giant among giants.
Orange and red leaves flutter over Locust Walk. They flutter over students advertising a cappella groups aplenty, over dapper graduates rushing out of Huntsman Hall and over a campus that is currently free from national controversy.
Wharton MBA students are constantly searching for the next lucrative venture, and now Penn is providing them with yet another opportunity -- this time in the form of a new dual MBA and Biotechnology degree.
Convictions. Courage. Relentless preparation. Teamwork. Communication.
It's the cr‚me-de-la-cr‚me. It's the class with the most star power. And it's being offered this spring.
Friday at 7 a.m. -- when the private building dedication of Jon M. Huntsman Hall kicks off -- is somewhat early for the average Penn student. Then again, the average Penn student isn't invited.
The University is currently considering the possibility of lengthening Fall Break from its current single-day duration.
For the Omojola brothers -- freshman Temi and his older brother Ayo -- what started out as an early October trip to New York City turned into a bit of a disaster.
Wharton freshman Jill Migicovsky does not like her Writing About course -- it has yet to meet her expectations, and she says she finds the instructor a bit lackluster.
Cruising over unchartered territory, the experimental pilot curriculum may have encountered a bit of turbulence in the form of the program's research component.
College sophomore Riana Pahmer first picked up the violin in third grade and has yet to put it down. And now, with the help of the College House Music Lesson Program, she will not have to.
He is Time magazine's 2001 person of the year. He is the former mayor of New York City. And now, Rudolph Giuliani is coming to Penn as the Social Planning and Events Committee's Connaissance branch's fall speaker.
Almost 10 years ago in the Quadrangle, a resident adviser saved a freshman's life.