gee, and there i was thinking yanandu will insipre us to watch seaweed grow instead of new season of glee. but no, he can speak technical language and make sense. i feel he may be living in a large tropical mansion after all. he lies in a shade of coconut trees, young naked girls fan him with flabella of pure silk and peacock feathers. naked slaves wearing gold chains around their necks and ankles feed him with grapes and strawberries flown to DR in his private jet. he gently touches the keyboard of his alienwear laptop with greasy, stubby fingers and he smirks every time he mentions solar ovens and seaweed.