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The Super Bowl ad that generates the most buzz might just be a minute of silence.

The set-up: Two deaf guys are driving to their friend Bob's Super Bowl blast. They’re having a heated chat in American Sign Language (with subtitles on the screen). It seems the kick-off is any minute. But they forgot Bob’s house number. So the driver rolls slowly down the street honking the horn. Lights flash on at every house but one—that’s gotta be the home of their deaf buddy. Pepsi produced the spot, in consultation with the National Association of the Deaf, to "bring awareness of the American deaf community to a wider audience." And maybe sell a few bottles of soda—one of the deaf guys in the car is swigging the soft drink.

Politically correct or incorrect? "It's hilarious, although it kind of misrepresents where we are today," said Norman Williams, a senior research engineer with the technology access program at Gallaudet University, a leading school for the deaf. "It's an old deaf joke from before people had pagers. Nowadays, people would just use a pager or a phone with a keyboard if they got lost." Tom Willard, who blogs about deaf issues at Tom's Deaf Advocacy, worries about the reaction of the hearing community: "I think it is great to see deaf themes and deaf actors in TV commercials. But I have misgivings about this particular spot. I never much liked the old joke because it is based on the premise that deaf people are rude and inconsiderate." (To be fair, Bob does wave an apology to his neighbors.) For more of the deaf community’s back and forth, check out blogs like deafjoke.tv or deafread.com or postings on YouTube with both typed comments and American sign language.

An interesting sidelight to the ad is its glimpse of how technology serves the deaf. When the guys finally push Bob’s doorbell, it triggers blinking lights inside. Some products tailored for the deaf might be of use to the hearing community as well. After a late night Super Bowl blast, who wouldn’t want a special alarm-clock addition called a bed-shaker: One end plugs into the alarm, the other slips under a pillow or mattress to jostle the user awake.

--Brad Scriber 

Last night I saw a movie. It was U2 3D, it was on the giant IMAX screen at a local museum, and it was SO GREAT. I'm a huge U2 fan, so my love for U2 3D has nothing to do with the fact, which I must mention, that National Geographic is distributing it. But I don't think you have to be a rabid U2 fan (or NG employee) to rock out to U2 3D.

The film brings a whole show to life, from the fans' arrival at the stadium to the encore. Rather than feeling gimmicky, the 3D feels like a perfectly natural way to watch a concert, even when lead singer Bono reaches out of the screen right at you. And it's so realistic that once or twice I thought the woman in the seat in front of me was waving her arms - but it was a fan in the stadium. The film uses footage from several 2006 shows in Latin America, shot in 3D with side-by-side cameras. (Watch closely and you'll see fans holding flags from the different countries where the movie was recorded.)

U2 is famous for putting on rousing, stadium-pleasing shows. Their anthemic rock music fills a big venue, as fans jump up and down and sing along. No comment on whether I sang along in the theater. On the 2005-2006 Vertigo tour, the band used a huge bank of screens to project animations, live videos of the band members, and other accompaniments to the music. In the movie, the animations sometimes come off the backdrop, hovering in front of the action or surrounding the band members. U2 shows are also famous for Bono's between-song lectures about poverty and world peace and the like, which did not make the cut. The focus stays on the music, which includes old favorites like "Where the Streets Have No Name" and material from their latest album.

The film gives you a view of the concert you'd never get as one person among thousands, from the box of tissues on a table next to drummer Larry Mullen Jr. to the set list taped on the Edge's keyboard. It's also exciting to see the show the way the band sees it - when a stadium lights up with tens of thousands of cell phones, it looks cool from the audience, but even more magical from the stage.

Unlike the old 3D movies, which caused many a headache, this one uses newer technology that doesn't strain the eyes. You still have to wear glasses, but they look like sunglasses instead of those goofy red-and-blue jobs. Ok, they still look goofy, but they do it with one lens color.

U2 3D is on IMAX screens now and opens at regular theaters next month.

—Helen Fields

With the TV writers on strike, Pop Omnivore will watch almost anything, including the new Fox game show, The Moment of Truth. Before the show, a contestant is hooked up to a lie detector and asked 50 questions that range from mildly embarrassing (“Have you ever lied to get a job?”) to horribly humiliating (“Is there a part of your spouse’s body that repulses you?”). Then he or she is asked 21 of those very same questions in front of family, friends, a studio audience, and a TV camera. Then, based on the earlier lie-detector results, a robotic female voice delivers the verdict: “That answer is … [long, annoying pause] true.” Or false, as the case may be. Answer all 21 questions truthfully and you win half a mil! Get caught in a lie and kiss your winnings goodbye.

On the premiere, a charming ex-football player/personal trainer tripped up when asked if he’d ever touched a client inappropriately. He said “No” but his pre-show lie detector test indicated that “no” was a lie. Before he was kicked off the show for his lie, he revealed to the entire world that he has hit a car and not left a note, he thinks he’s the best looking guy among his friends, and he’s delayed having kids because he’s not sure his wife is his life partner. Tragic! Get this couple on Oprah, stat.

All this made us wonder just how accurate lie detecting might be. So we asked Maureen O’Sullivan, a professor of psychology at the University of San Francisco and an expert on deception.

Her first reaction did not bode well for the show. “They’re using the lie detector as their criterion for truth? Oh God!”

The premise of the lie detector, O’Sullivan explains, is that lying will make people anxious. To detect that anxiety, the lie detector measures heart rate, blood pressure, body temperature, and other physical signs. She says that, in the hands of a highly skilled operator who asks lots of questions before, during, and after hookup to the machine and pays careful attention to the order of the queries, the detector can often be quite revealing.

But, she cautions, “It’s not 100 percent. There’s nothing that’s 100 percent.”

For example, if you’re just a very anxious person, you could appear to be lying. “And some people don’t feel guilty when they lie – they get what we call ‘duping delight,’” O’Sullivan points out. So … looks like they’re telling the truth even if they’re not.

Or a person can fool the lie detector. Think of some anxious moment when the lie detector operator is establishing your baseline pulse etc., and then if you do show anxiety when lying, the lie detector probably won’t be able to tell.

Meanwhile, just being on television and having a chance to win a HALF A MILLION DOLLARS!!! could make someone excited enough to register as a liar.

Will America tune in? I’d be lying if I said I knew the answer. But the show was a big hit in Colombia—and as a result, lie detection is a booming business in the Latin American country.

Pop Omnivore readers: How do you detect a lie? As a parent, I assume guilt at all times: “I know you dented the car/broke curfew/ate the last cookie and didn’t throw the bag away.” The child usually confesses in a heartbeat!

-Marc Silver

When the DVD for Medabots, a TV series on Fox Kids, popped up on our radar here at Pop Omnivore, we considered having one of our regular staffers handle the post. But then we had a better idea: Why not let a new and highly regarded 9-year-old blogger do the job? Without further ado, please give a warm National Geographic welcome to Caleb Clark Mairson.

Pop Omnivore: What is Medabots all about?
Caleb: It’s about a boy named Ikki Tenryo who doesn’t have a robot fighter like all the other kids. One day a gang of thugs comes and challenges his friend Erika to a robo-battle, but she doesn’t take the challenge. So Ikki runs to a shop that sells Megabots and buys a very old robot because he couldn’t afford the new kind. Ikki names his robot Metabee—for metal beetle. Metabee is especially strong and powerful because of the special medal that Ikki put into him. In most of Ikki’s adventures, he ends up in a robattle where Metabee fights another robot until one of them isn’t functioning anymore. Next episode, please.

Pop: Do you like the show?
Caleb: It’s okay. On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d give it a 3 or 4, maximum 5.

Pop: What’s the coolest part of the show?
Caleb: When a metafighter—a person—beats somebody, they get part of their opponent’s robot’s body.

Pop: What’s the lamest part?
Caleb: Probably the bad guys. They steal rare and powerful medals, and they have Medabots that aren’t that good.   

Pop: What special powers do Medabots have?
Caleb: Here are some Medabot powers:
- They can shoot bullets out of their arms.
- They can swing chains with balls at the end and wallop their opponent.
- They can shoot gravity beams that can pin you down to the ground.
- They can fight with swords. 
- They have cape shields that protect them from bullets.
- They can shock their opponents with electric shock.
- They can talk to people.

Pop: Can real robots do all those things today?
Caleb: I thought you would ask me that, so I emailed questions to a man named Rodney Brooks. He is a professor of robotics at a school called MIT. This is what Dr. Brooks told me: “Some robots can talk to people today, though not as naturally as two people talking together. If they wanted to, they could make robots shoot bullets from their arms and shock people with something like a taser. But some of the other things would require a change in the laws of physics as we know them. Don’t expect gravity beams to be built by a bunch of engineers.”

Pop: What will robots be able to do in 20 years?
Caleb: Dr. Brooks told me that in 20 years or so there will probably be robots that help old people around the house so they can stay in their home longer. I think he means robots might do the laundry, make dinner, go to the grocery store, walk the dog, make the beds, and stuff like that.

Pop: Would you like  your own Medabot?
Caleb: Yes.

Pop: What power would you want your Medabot to have?
Caleb: The power to do my homework. I’d make him invincible. He’d also be able to turn himself into fire and water. And he’ll be able to shoot lighting, make a plant grow, and throw someone with a gravity force field. Also, maybe you could use a Medabot to download all the math facts from zero to ten into your head.

Pop: How much is 8 times 7?
Caleb: 56.

Pop: Does this TV series remind you of a game you used to play?
Caleb: Yes. It reminds me of Pokemon. The characters cry the same, are drawn the same. And the story is the same. They have fights, and go Kakakakaka!!….. Yaaaahhhhh!!!! ….. BOOOOOOM!!!

To read Caleb’s complete e-mail interviews with two robotic experts, check out his blog—Salt & Vinegar.

It’s not that we’re wet blankets here at Pop Omnivore. We’re not. We know how to have fun. It’s just that some things are kind of, you know, hard to believe.

Take Cloverfield. In the new movie, a big, ugly monster runs amok in New York as a small, attractive band of 20-somethings tries to survive, filming everything with a handheld camera (think Godzilla meets the Blair Witch on 9/11).

So what’s straining credulity? For us, it’s not the monster, or the characters’ decision to film it even as they run from it, or even the fact that 20-somethings can’t afford huge Manhattan lofts like the one in the movie. No, what really raised our eyebrows was the camera itself.

We learn early on that the bulk of Cloverfield—a 12-hour period, from nighttime monster attack to daytime denouement—is shot on a single tape (not hard disk), during which time the camera is never recharged, and its (presumably battery-draining) exterior light is mostly on. Which made us wonder: Just what kind of super-technology are those 20-somethings using, anyway?

So we asked Ed Baig, tech columnist for USA Today and author of a couple of those Dummies books.

“Your instincts are basically correct,” Baig told us via e-mail. “If indeed they are using tape in the movie, then the actual footage would be an hour or two, tops, depending on the shooting mode. And though battery life varies by camera, its a safe bet they'd have to either carry spare batteries or recharge what they've got somewhere along the line.”

We won’t go so far as to say, “We told you so.” This is Hollywood, after all. We’ll just sit here, eyebrows raised, and try to wrap our heads around the movie’s other implausibilities. Like that part where the 20-somethings run up 57 flights of stairs … without wheezing … after fighting for their lives all night … with no food, water, or rest … half-drunk from the party they attended.

-Jeremy Berlin

American Gladiators is making a comeback this weekend on NBC. The show, which originally aired in the late '80s and early '90s, pits regular folks (although regular folks who are somewhat more fit than me) against the show's cast of gladiators. So what does this have to do with the gladiators of ancient Rome? Well, not a lot, but there is one surprising way the show is true to ancient history: Both American Gladiators and Roman gladiators were given set tasks.

Sure, the tasks are a bit different. In the NBC series, which debuts Sunday at 9, there's one called "Earthquake," in which the contestant and gladiator battle on a tilting platform, and an "Assault" task, in which contestants have to "avoid getting pelted by tennis balls being shot at them ... by navigating a course filled with counterstrike weaponry like air cannons and cross bows." Real gladiators of yore fought in set pairs, under strict rules--for example, a retiarius, who used a net and trident, would fight against a secutor, armed with short sword and shield. And like (I hope) the show, fights rarely ended in death.

Like the show's regulars, ancient gladiators were well-trained. A study of remains from a mass gladiator grave in Ephesus found that they exercised rigorously and ate little meat. Many other things have changed for the better: The ancient gladiators were slaves, although some successful fighters were able to win their freedom. While death wasn't always part of the bouts, some did end that way; one skull in the Ephesus study had two holes spaced at the same distance as the prongs of a trident found at a nearby site. And the ancient audience had to sit in the hot sun, not at home on the couch with a bucket of caramel corn. Also, I'm pretty sure Lycra hadn't been invented yet.

For an accurate movie portrayal of gladiators, experts say you should skip Gladiator. That film was both wildly popular and wildly annoying to experts in Roman culture. Instead of getting intense training and meeting set opponents, Russell Crowe was sent into the arena to confront all manner of weirdness, including tigers. Instead, rent the 1960 Stanley Kubrick movie Spartacus, which shows the gladiators training together and fighting in pairs.

—Helen Fields

Pop Omnivore’s pick for best song of 2007 is not the ubiquitous Umbrella.

It is “I Am a Gummy Bear.”

Never heard of it? Consider yourself lucky, because once you hear this bouncy, synthesizer-driven ditty, you will never ever ever get it out of your head. And that, to us, is the true test of a song of the year. Listen to this excerpt, if you dare, complete with video of a dancing green bear (tastefully clad in briefs).

Plus, “Gummy Bear” is a song that reflects National Geographic’s interest in the world we live in. Released in Hungary last year, it became the number one ring tone for eight months. It has been translated into many languages, including German, which is highly appropriate because really, is there a funnier sentence than “Ich bin ein Gummibär.” Also, the sticky candy was invented in Germany in 1922. “Gummibär” translates as “rubber bear.” Awww, how sweet.

Readers, we challenge you to name a song, domestic or international, that matches “Gummy Bear” for sheer infectiousness.

-Marc Silver

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