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(05/02/12 8:22pm)
The line is an inside joke, a declaration of team unity. It’s
also a coping method, a defense against the anxiety tightening his chest,
flipping the half-digested banana in his stomach. How else can he breathe, let
alone bike the Little 500?
(03/06/12 3:26am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>24 spandex-clad yogis stalled road traffic between Woodburn and Ballantine halls at 11:04 a.m. on Monday. As the post-class rush of students stopped to gape, the yogis bent into downward-facing dog on the cold concrete.“What is this?” a passerby asked, motioning toward the stretching men and women. “I think it’s a flash mob,” another responded, snapping pictures on his iPhone. “A yoga flash mob.”The group, whose members maintained eight synchronized poses for 15 seconds each, followed the lead of Sujal Patel, an IU senior and instructor at local studio Know Yoga Know Peace.It’s about fun, he said. Flash mobbers signed up through his classes and Facebook. More than 100 people clicked “Going” on the event page, but the morning snow significantly reduced turnout. “It’s a beautiful thing, being able to do yoga anywhere,” Patel said after the performance, which lasted about four minutes. “But the drivers were less concerned about safety than we were. One van was inches away from running over my hand!”— danpaque@indiana.edu
(02/15/12 5:12am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>The vines of fuchsia orchids changed Nel Hostetter’s mind. Or perhaps it was the rows of cherry tomatoes they kissed in her backyard garden — the ones her grandson, Dylan, popped like Skittles. Or the Italian, Chinese and Moroccan cookbooks lining her kitchen shelves, the golden-hued curtains she purchased in Los Angeles’ garment district, or the list of Dim Sum restaurants she checked off, one by one, in the L.A. Times’ Dining section.Life sparkles, she says, once you start living for the things you love. Last August, Nel ended a 35-year programming career in southern California to open Sweet Claire, a gourmet bakery on Third and Lincoln streets. The 60-year-old Philippines native who had been the IT director of an aerospace company took a significant pay cut: No longer did she have a stable salary, yearly bonuses or stock shares. No semblance of retirement when daily work begins at 4 a.m. “So, why more hours, less pay?” friends ask. “My sweet rolls are your answer,” she responds, laughing. Now, Sweet Claire is a hangout, study space and small party venue. Three rooms of café seating and free Wi-Fi beckon customers to linger over fresh bread and iron-cast pots of organic tea. Bloomington is the ideal location, she says — just a 20-minute drive from her family in Spencer, Ind. And students tend to drool over her Nutella-frosted pancakes. On a Saturday morning, inside the meticulously organized kitchen, warm cinnamon air wafts from the four-shelf oven Nel bought, heavily discounted, from a defunct pizza parlor. She’s nearly finished with the day’s first batch: 36 swirls of brioche, which she calls “French croissants with egg,” 40 Babka pastries and 96 sweet rolls — her favorite. It’s usually all gone by 2 p.m., she says.“Who’s ready for food?” she asks, holding a tray of “pan de sal,” or Philippine “salty bread.” Nel’s husband and repairman, Jim, and the morning staff, Ashley and Genta, huddle around an island set with fresh spreads: pesto, red pepper, egg whites and goat cheese. Breakfast, the first real moment of calm, comes around 9 a.m., just before the brunch rush. “Me!” says Jim, who still wears his Carhartt jacket from manning the Sweet Claire Farmer’s Market booth. “Those red peppers and bread together? Killer, baby.”The sandwiches aren’t on the menu — just more of Nel’s impromptu concoctions. When patrons call with requests, such as tiramisu cupcakes for a bridal shower, she Googles the standard ingredients and whips up her personalized rendition. “It’s all trial and error, trial and error,” Nel says, spreading pesto across the makeshift buns. “That’s how we make and change our food. It’s creative and scientific. It’s fun.” Her dream, the bakery, was an ambiguous urge for decades. Though Nel loved the fast-paced world of computer programming, she sensed something better awaited her. A calling.When projects became stressful, she spent evening hours in her kitchen blasting the Eagles and fixing salmon rolls, chicken with white sauce and buttery noodles. Cooking — anything and everything — was a release, she says. Each new dish was a challenge, something to perfect with intuitive touches. Eventually, Jim says, their family and friends — anyone within tasting range — became foodies. As Nel’s 55th birthday approached, the stars aligned. Time for a change. She couldn’t ignore the signs: Her company’s new vice president was a jerk, and enrollment had just opened for a six-week bread artisan class at the French Culinary Institute in New York City. She signed up, packed 10 boxes of cookbooks, traded her home for a studio apartment on Manhattan’s Upper East Side and never looked back.As the Saturday crowd calms, Nel attacks a slab of butter with her rolling pin.Whack. “Before you mix it, you have to beat it up,” she says. Her baking routines are scientific, rigorous. She won’t send recipes to friends or customers because everything must be precisely weighed, stirred, separated, stored and beaten. Perfection can’t be winged, Nel says.On this afternoon, she applies IT process rigor to sweet potato pastries. She explains it like Steve Jobs might talk about a Macbook: unblinking certainty, no hesitation.“I combine flour, egg, milk, etcetera, using my ‘baker’s ratio,’” she says, motioning to an Excel document on her Hewlett-Packard laptop, “and determine different amounts based on how big the batch is.”She dumps a scoop of flour onto her kitchen scale: 1.43 kilograms.“That’s enough.”Everything at Sweet Claire is calculated, Nel says, down to the name. She chose “Claire” after Emily Claire, her four-year-old granddaughter. It sounded friendly, marketable and, most importantly, the website domain name was available. She put it on the back of her staff’s “Got bread?” T-shirts.“Isn’t ‘sweetclaire.com’ easy to remember?” she says. “I want people visiting us in their sleep.”She laughs and takes another whack at the butter.“I know I do.”
(01/07/11 5:35am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Capturing a hungry tiger requires patience.Three days after Christmas, on a gray 15-degree morning in Angola, Ind., Joe Taft tries to coax a female Bengal out of her enclosure for the second straight hour. She refuses to budge.“Come on, dear,” Taft says, brandishing a severed deer leg. “Come on, Savannah.”To an outsider, the scene may resemble an action sequence crafted in Hollywood: A 65-year-old man wrangles a 250-pound exotic beast in the middle of an abandoned amusement park. His team, a group of four warmly bundled animal handlers, stand by an open travel crate, ready to drop the hinge door and hoist her into a Penske rental truck. Any minute now.Today’s objective is routine for Taft, a seasoned tiger rescuer. Before sundown, his team must transport three big cats—Savannah, her brother, Christopher and Mariah, a blind white tiger—to an animal sanctuary 233 miles south.“Come on, girl,” Taft presses. Savannah flicks her long sinewy tail. Anxiety overwhelms her normally laid-back demeanor. She stares, twitches, flashes jagged teeth. Her snorts crystallize into clouds in the frigid air.She’s never seen this man on her territory, which, for the past nine years, has been Fun Spot Amusement Park & Zoo. She watches him pace along her wire enclosure, pressing snowy footprints in the shadow of a nearby roller coaster.“Here, girl!” calls Dani Kennedy, her caretaker. “He’s going to take you to your new home!” She employs a soft, cajoling tone—baby talk to an animal nearly three times her size.Savannah hesitates. She’s wary of placing a paw near the travel crate, despite the humans’ continuous efforts to lure her. She’s agitated by the ruckus, the unfamiliar group, the lack of breakfast at 9 a.m. But the deer meat proves too appealing to completely resist. It’s fresh enough to drizzle crimson in the snow.On the other side of the wire, Taft’s hand guides her to the crate’s opening. She creeps close enough to prompt whispers. “She’s almost there. Get ready!” Then she lunges away in a flash of black and orange.
(12/13/10 5:28am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>He finds them with broken paws, rotten teeth and frostbitten ears: a
tiger afraid to leave her 5-by-5 foot cage, a lion crumpled in a
backyard shed, a cougar discarded in an Indiana snow storm.
Across the country, saving big cats is 65-year-old Joe Taft’s mission.
More than 200 refugees live at the Exotic Feline Rescue Center, located about 55 minutes northwest of the IU campus.
Each had been rescued from somewhere in the United States. Most required
medical treatment and some degree of nursing back to life.
The calls never stop.
“I don’t have a problem with private ownership,” he tells visitors. “I have a problem with irresponsible ownership.”In the next month, Joe and his team will recover five tigers, a lion and a leopard from a defunct amusement park in Angola, Ind. Pick up the Indiana Daily Student in January to follow their journey.
(11/16/10 3:51am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Sierra Launer studied a square of the AIDS Memorial Quilt, silently reading names embroidered in elaborately decorated 3-by-6 foot panels.A green patch, dedicated to Peter Potaski, featured Scooby Doo and a question: “Where are you?”Another, crafted for Benjamin Saar, depicted felt boats navigating a cerulean fabric sea.Speakers announced 518 more names to observers in Alumni Hall.“Walter B.”“William P.”Though Launer, a 19-year-old Ivy Tech student, had never met Peter or Benjamin or any of the others, grief gripped her. “John D.”“Ken I.”Each first name and last initial belonged to someone who died from the same virus she fights to suppress.“I could’ve had a panel,” she said. “Seeing the quilt is strange because I read the names and think, ‘That could have been me.’”Launer, who lost six siblings to the effects of AIDS, was born HIV-positive. She is the only living member of her immediate biological family.“It’s sad, but I can’t help but to feel relieved,” she said. “The quilt makes me realize how grateful I am to still be here.”The 520 of the 47,000 panels, the largest portion of the quilt ever displayed in Indiana, drew more than 1,500 onlookers between Thursday and Monday. More than 90,000 casualties, including Launer’s brothers and sisters, have been immortalized in 54 tons of the hand-decorated fabric. Launer, who lives with her adoptive mother, Deborah, in Ellettsville, was one of 95 volunteers who came to the Indiana Memorial Union to ceremoniously unfold the quilt.She’d signed up to help through the Bloomington Community AIDS Action Group, an organization affiliated with Positive Link, the extension of Bloomington Hospital where she receives HIV medication and treatment.“When I was born, the doctors said I was only supposed to live for two weeks,” she said. “But I’m still here now, and that means something. It’s important to honor the dead but remember there are survivors.”Jill Stowers, program manager for Positive Link, said the quilt is a call to action.“AIDS has gotten away from the media, but it’s still happening today,” she said. “People are still getting infected. There still isn’t a cure.”As of June 2010, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recorded 197 cases of HIV in Monroe County. Stowers said Positive Link accepted four new patients last month.“The quilt reminds us that we all need to be careful,” she said. “We all need to practice safe sex. There are patches for mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers. AIDS can affect everyone.”At the closing ceremony Monday afternoon, Bloomington Mayor Mark Kruzan addressed the crowd preparing to fold the quilt and return it to storage in Atlanta.“I walked through the display and was particularly touched by one patch dedicated to a man named Mark,” he said. “Not only does he share my name, but he was born the same year I was.”Launer, standing in the center of Alumni Hall, faced Kruzan as he spoke of the connection he felt to the patchwork. Mark could’ve been him or anyone, he said.“He’s gone, and I’m here,” Kruzan said. “I want to honor his life and continue to give value to mine.”As Launer folded a portion of the quilt, applause erupted. She thought of her brothers and sisters. She thought of the cocktail of pills she takes daily. She hoped the next audience would be just as inspired.
(11/10/10 3:08pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>If you’ve heard him speak, you know his stance: Brother Jed thinks we’re fornicating, drinking, and feminist-ing our way to eternal flames. We asked Dr. Sylvester Johnson, director of graduate studies in the Department of Religious studies, to analyze three of Jed and Martha’s favorite Bible verses. Martha sent us the scriptures. Religious literature is open to interpretation, Johnson says."For when you were slaves of sin, you were free in regard to righteousness." – Romans 6:20SJ: This is part of Paul’s typical use of “slave/manumission” language to empha- size to his readers that their choice is between slavery to righteousness or slavery to sin. Either way, they will be slaves, but they will also be free—either from sin or from the obligation to live righteously."Having been born again, not of corruptible seed but incorruptible, through the word of God which lives and abides forever," – 1 Peter 123SJ: This writer, who is claiming the identity of Peter, is describing the Christian life metaphorically as rebirth and stemming from immortal “seed” rather than merely physical sperm. The point is to contrast spiritual birth with physical birth."Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up." – 1 Corinthians 13:4-8SJ: In this text, Paul is writing about special abilities he and his followers believed were spiritual gifts. Different people had different abilities. As background, some of the Corinth Christians had claimed to have better abilities than others. Here, Paul claims no single gift is better than another and all should be valued equally. So, later in this chapter, he uses the human body as a metaphor for the body of Christians: They all need each other and no single member should develop an exaggerated sense of self-importance.
(11/10/10 3:00pm)
Amid a mob of jeering students, Martha Smock sits quietly.
(09/23/10 4:59am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>When someone robs Britney Spears, Tim Goth has to deal with it.As the pop singer might sip champagne in her lavish Los Angeles abode, the University Information Technology Services employee responds to misconduct from his office on 10th and the Bypass.It’s an eight-to-five job, a task delegated solely to him. And it all begins with an e-mail.“Sir or Madam: I am contacting you on behalf of the Recording Industry Association of America — the trade association whose member music companies create, manufacture and distribute about 85 percent of all legitimate music sold in the United States. If you are a university Internet Service Provider (ISP), you have received this letter because we have identified a user on your network reproducing or distributing an unauthorized copy of a copyrighted sound recording.”In other words: a student or faculty member on one of IU’s eight campuses downloaded “Toxic” using LimeWire again.“We’re an instant gratification society,” Goth, who receives multiple notices daily, said. “Some people don’t realize the time and money people invest to make music. Some people just think it’s convenient.”Last year, more than 2,700 IU network users were caught downloading copyrighted music and movies, according to UITS statistics.The practice, made illegal by former President Bill Clinton’s 1998 Digital Millennium Copyright Act, has sent ripples of tension throughout the music industry since Napster euphemized “steal” with “share.”“It’s a fine line,” Goth said. “We’re trying to raise awareness and respect for boundaries.”Liz Kennedy, a Record Industry Association spokesperson, said it’s easy not to feel sorry for people such as Britney Spears — she’s already rich, so why should file sharing matter?“When you illegally download a song online, it has an impact on countless behind-the-scenes players in the music industry,” she said. “Album producers, audio engineers, record store employees and truck drivers — many contribute to creating the music we all love.”An estimated 12.5 billion dollars and 70,000 industry jobs have been lost because of piracy, she said, citing a 2007 study conducted by the Institute for Policy Innovation.So, the association sends notices to all sources of illegal downloading that monitors catch. Kennedy said it’s an initiative to prevent offenders from “destroying the dams of tomorrow.”As a copyright act compliance coordinator, Goth investigates every claim of malfeasance made by the recording association. He’s not the “proverbial man going after the little guy,” he said. He, too, was implicated in music file sharing only 20 minutes into his freshman year.“We’re not trying to upset people, just educate them,” he said. “We’re an academic community, and we want students to know how the world works.”At IU, Goth said every user is innocent until proven guilty by online fingerprints or illegal activity linked to a computer’s Internet protocol address.Sophomore Kelsey Phillips, who has never been in legal trouble, said she simply wanted music for her new iPod Touch. A week after downloading Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” from a file-sharing program her freshman year, she received an e-mail from Merri Beth Lavagnino, IU’s chief privacy officer and compliance coordinator. “My first thoughts were, ‘Oh my god — I’m in so much trouble,’” she said. “Then I had to deal with this big, time-consuming hassle.”On top of a $50 fine, she was instructed to score 100 percent on a two-hour online quiz covering copyright laws and piracy. Only then could her IU Secure login unfreeze.Phillips said she learned her lesson, partially.“I’ll never download at IU again,” she said. “But I may at home.”Scott Wilson, awareness, training and outreach coordinator and security and policy information manager for the IU Information Policy Office, said universities catch illegal downloading the same way home service providers do.But students who have been sharing tracks from Mom’s PC since middle school are confused: Why does IU bust me, but not Comcast?“Private service providers don’t want to bully their customers,” Wilson said. “It’s not their problem, so companies have leeway. They need customers to have confidence in them.”But, Wilson said, IU is an academic community. Students should graduate knowing how to be a good citizen — online and otherwise.“We could fine a lot more, but that’s not the point,” he said. “Our remedial efforts have shown results. Students who are caught once are much less likely to illegally download copyrighted materials again.”Less than 10 percent of IU copyright abusers become second offenders, Wilson said. Less than 1 percent violate for a third time, which results in a permanent ban from campus networks. UITS and IU’s Student Ethics and Anti-Harassment Program teamed up to devise the remedial program Phillips experienced. The $50 fee, charged with each copyright violation, funds the effort.Timothy Bagwell, investigator and assistant to the director for student ethics, orchestrates one-on-one conversations between University officials and repeat offenders. Bridging the gap between digital and personal is important, he said.“Virtually 99.9 percent of the time, the student acknowledges their culpability and responsibility,” Bagwell said. “A conversation is definitely more effective. Students tend to blow off an e-mail, but if they have to have a face-to-face conversation about their behavior, they are much more conducive to hearing what is being said.”Eventually, all students will leave IU’s network. The myriad of free opportunities online can be confusing for anyone determining what’s off-limits and what’s not, Wilson said. That’s why the University plans to educate until illegal downloading offenses disappear.“I don’t think that today’s students’ ethical code allows them to be completely OK with stealing,” Bagwell said. “But, if anything, they actively seek the gray in what, to them, appears to be a very black and white world. If you show them gray, like NY Times online and Pandora, they’re okay with it. Otherwise, they’re not afraid to create it on their own with LimeWire.”
(09/10/10 4:19am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>In the center of Memorial Stadium, on the 50-yard line, a bikini-clad man pointed his trumpet toward the sky.Surrounding him was the rest of the IU Marching Hundred, bobbing, swaying and Hula-ing to the tune of “Hawaii 5-0” as a revolving camera atop an 8-foot ladder caught every note.But why, at 5:45 p.m. on a Thursday, with an abundance of rainbow leis and snorkel gear, was the award-winning band playing to rows and rows of empty bleachers?Per the request of CBS, said Marching Hundred director Dave Woodley.“They contacted me this summer to see if we were interested in competing against other high school and university bands,” he said. “That’s why we look so beach wacky today.”For a chance to win $25,000 and airtime on the network, the Marching
Hundred deviated from its standard of professionalism, putting on a
surfer persona.Because, Woodley explained, recreating a theme song from a Hawaii-based television show required surfer personas. “We’re going for something part serious, part fun,” he said. “I’m not expecting to win, but I hope to win. And if we win, I’ll throw this group a party and purchase the new instruments we’ve needed for 30 years.”Woodley said CBS, which will launch a remake of “Hawaii 5-O” on Sept. 20, wanted to see personality, color and pizzazz in video entries — the same characteristics that captured hearts during the show’s original airing throughout the ’70s.“I need you guys to move out of Indiana for a little bit,” Woodley said to the band. “Be less Midwestern, and don’t be afraid to do this.”He burst into a fit of pelvic thrusts as laughter erupted around him.“And go!”Two hours earlier, the Hundred met on the parking lot between Assembly Hall and the Fee Lane tennis courts.Freshman Evan Barry, part of the drumline, prepared to play the musical equivalent of a rattlesnake: a Vibra-slap.“This is the first song that’s needed a Vibra-slap all season, and probably the last,” he said. “The only cool thing about it is Ozzy Osbourne used it in ‘Crazy Train.’”Barry, who usually plays snare drum, said he “just sort of picked up” how to play the buzz-producing device.On his wrist, a green band read “Hearts on fire, minds on ice,” a sentiment from a former music teacher.At his feet, sheet music indicated when to send loud, low rattles into a mix of trombones and tubas and flutes.Senior Tonya Mitchell, the drum major who’d been skimboarding down a hill moments earlier, called the band into playing formation. Five whistles.5-0 begins.Barry hits the Vibra-slap.He, standing ahead of the rest of the band, had three takes to get it right.Mitchell, who has been leading the Hundred for 14 months, said all players must work skillfully under a tight deadline to win.Mission one: Record a flawless rendition of the theme song, which won American film score composer Morton Stevens two Emmy Awards four decades ago.Mission two: Earn approval from Woodley, who thundered orders from a foldout chair he purchased at Sam’s Club.Mission three: Synch music with the footage shot in Memorial Stadium and send the edited video to CBS by Sept. 16.After two and a half hours of playing, changing positions and readjusting grass skirts, the Marching Hundred nailed it.Sophomore Jacquelyn Brice, who shook a tambourine next to Barry, said she believes the band will crush all competition.“We did well,” she said. “And I had fun getting my Bahama Mama on.”
(08/30/10 3:13am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>It’s 2 p.m. and partly cloudy — the ideal time for Billy Graves to roll out of bed.After a busy night and busier morning of serving drinks and wiping tables, the 29-year-old IU alumnus wipes sleep from his hazel eyes — he’d managed six hours, this time — readjusts his signature mohawk and throws on a red Indiana shirt smudged with bright white paint. It’ll only get dirtier today.Instead of stirring cocktails, the full time bartender will spend the afternoon mixing paint.He must continue to transform, brick by painstaking brick, 79 feet of Kilroy’s on Kirkwood into a detailed reflection of Hoosier culture.Now serving legacyLast spring, Dave Prall, manager of KOK, decided he wanted a massive mural to cover the building’s left side. Kilroy’s has been under his family’s ownership since the ’70s, he said. It’s up to him to make it look good.He approached Graves with the commission just before the bar closed for summer renovations. After all, the bartender had graduated with a degree in fine arts, spent off hours illustrating comic books and had devoted nearly three years of service to Kilroy’s.It wasn’t Graves’ first artistic endeavor for Prall. He’d painted objects inside the bar, too: a logo-emblazoned table, an embellished “Drinko” wheel.But the 79-by-13-foot space — a canvas that would take three months to fill — was his largest undertaking.“It’s kind of a big deal, I guess,” Graves said. “But I don’t really have passionate feelings about it. It’s a job — not my personal mural, my personal ideas. But I do have pride. It’s mine.”Prall instructed Graves to cover the wall in IU memorabilia: scenes from Assembly Hall, cheerleaders, Little 500 cyclists and football players.To bring Prall’s vision to life, Graves arranged a collage with photos he’d found online. He sketched the scenes, used Photoshop to apply color and divided a mural outline into small grids.Then, he mounted his ladder and began painting in June.“It all started on paper,” Graves said. “Every inch I drew scaled to a foot of space on the wall. And it was hard to not get stuck on every foot of space because I’m so detail-oriented. I kept telling myself to focus on the big picture.”A job well paintedNow, as Kirkwood Avenue buzzes to life with the return of IU students, only a few blank spaces remain on the animated wall.Graves, admiring his work, reminisces on difficulties he faced throughout those long, hot afternoons of painting: abrasive construction sounds, uneven ground, workers throwing away his paint, shelling out cash to resupply his paint and surprise-attack bee stings.He estimates he’ll be finished by mid-week. And then, he’ll have a beer.“It looks so good — I love it!” his co-bartender and girlfriend Nisha said, as she stood outside the establishment and gazed upward. “But I knew it would be really good. I’ve seen his work.”Despite using durable paint, Graves said he knows keeping his work “really good” will require frequent attention. Thanks to continuous exposure of sunlight and rain, the mural’s lifespan peaks at four years.But Prall, pleased and impressed, will maintain the artwork. It’s the best mural in town, he said.“I’m very happy with the results,” he said. “The mural has exceeded my expectations and captured IU spirit.”As for Graves, he’ll continue bartending and illustrating comic books. Eventually, he’ll write his own. He’s already envisioned characters and a plotline, though he refuses to reveal details.But Prall has another task for the artist to complete before he serves a single Long Island.“You’ve got another table to paint,” he said with a grin.
(08/25/10 11:56pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Never before has the world seen such a delightful combination of awkward and adorable.Thank you, Michael Cera.However, when those visuals vanish and all we’re left with is his latest movie’s soundtrack, cute suddenly transforms to cacophony. And it’ll bring you back to that hazy garage.The “Scott Pilgrim” soundtrack would be more appropriately titled “sounds from musically inept sixteen-year-olds.”Amid a backdrop of typical punk guitar chords, Cera’s fictional band Sex Bomb-Omb croons to the ladies on “Garbage Truck” (and multiple other tracks): “I’ll take you for a ride/ On my garbage truck/ Oh no, I’ll take you to the dump/ ’Cause you’re my queen.” Okay, so they’re good for a laugh. Beck wrote the simplistic jams based on some “crappy fake lyrics,” — and crappy fake lyrics comprise 30 percent of the tracks.But that’s not to say the compilation completely lacks musical legitimacy. “Under My Thumb” is an obvious Rolling Stones classic, and Beck’s “Ramona” encourages listeners to whip out their acoustics for an emotionally charged sing-a-long.Underneath all the punk novelty is a layer of nerdy angst almost as endearing as Cera. And while you may respect and applaud that nerdy angst for breaking into the mainstream ear, you’d probably stuff it into the same dusty case as ‘N Sync’s “No Strings Attached” after a few listens.
(04/26/10 4:43am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>At 11 a.m. Friday, Snoop Dogg’s private jet touched down at the Monroe County Airport.The rapper and his entourage traveled in luxury to Holiday Inn Express Hotel and Suites, where a requested 60-inch plasma screen television awaited — only the best for his Xbox LIVE.In the hotel elevator, a Golden Corral Buffet & Grill waitress startled at the sight of her favorite performer.“Come to my restaurant, Snoop,” she said, “and you eat for free.”They exchanged numbers and the rapper thanked her in his signature low, smooth tone — recognizable worldwide after nearly two decades of hit albums, sold-out concerts and a popular reality television series.When the elevator reached the hotel’s sixth floor, Snoop and four suit-clad security guards exited toward his room, which could be arranged or manipulated in any way possible — he need only ask.The rapper pulled out his purple-encased iPad and began to bob his head to a bass-heavy beat.Tonight, he’d bring Los Angeles style to IU. Despite a forecast warning possible downpour, more than 6,100 fans gathered in the shared Zeta Beta Tau and Sigma Alpha Mu parking lot to witness the legendary rapper perform hits from 1993’s “Doggystyle” to his most recent single, “Gangsta Luv.”IU alumnus Jonathan Wolf, who helped coordinate the event with entertainment group Blue Ocean Live, said bringing Snoop Dogg to campus was his greatest professional achievement.“We’ve always been doing big rap concerts,” said Wolf, who helped plan a Young Jeezy concert during the Little 500 week in 2009. “This is the culmination of it all.”Wolf moved from his home in Memphis, Tenn., to a temporary apartment in Bloomington for more than a month of promoting, planning and prepping.Although he wouldn’t disclose how much Snoop cost to book, Wolf pointed to a Mercedes SUV in the ZBT parking lot and said, “It’s comparable to that.”Wolf said while he was pleased with the concert turnout, not all went according to plan.Singer Jeremih, best known for his 2008 single “Birthday Sex,” was scheduled to perform prior to Snoop Dogg but only made it through a few notes.The artist entered the ZBT basement just after 8 p.m., and said he was ready to play.“I hear the crowd out there and I’m anxious to see how it looks,” Jeremih said. “I plan to party, got a little oil in my system so I feel good.”He raised his drink, which contained a blend of coconut Cîroc vodka and papaya juice — his “special potion.”“I get into a zone with this,” he said. “When I perform, I feel myself even more.”But on stage, the sound crew refused to turn up the volume on his microphone.Luis Duran, Jeremih’s manager, said the mix-up was due to an unforeseen scheduling conflict with Snoop Dogg’s people — they wouldn’t allow Jeremih to play in case the performance overlapped with Snoop’s time.With no performer for at least an hour, tension ran high in the crowd and chants of “bullshit” could be heard backstage.Negative sentiment quickly transformed to audible excitement, however, as Snoop Dogg emerged from a ZBT staircase.Security guards formed a protective human tunnel for the rapper as he strutted to the stage, camera flashes reflecting from the glittering “West Coast” embroidered on the back of his jacket.“Who here smokes weed?” he asked the crowd, to which the drunk, high and sober alike responded in fits of screaming and cheering.Senior Michael Feld, who donned an “All Access Pass” around his neck, said Snoop packed tremendous star-power.“The show was amazingly entertaining,” he said, as he mingled with guests drinking Grey Goose vodka in the ZBT basement. “To see Snoop hold the crowd as he did was incredible.”After security ushered Snoop Dogg safely back inside ZBT through fumes of smoke and liquor, Wolf and other coordinators rushed to the Holiday Inn Express to prepare for the rapper and his people. Two floors were reserved for performers, crew and select VIP guests. One hour remained to ready rooms.On the way, Wolf received a call from one of Snoop’s crew members.“We’re going to Wendy’s,” he told the driver. “Snoop said to ‘get a little of everything.’”Four bags of greasy goods and $84.97 later, they arrived at the hotel and began pondering means to obtain the best champagne possible.By 3 a.m., other performers at the hotel expressed their disappointment. Snoop hadn’t left his private room, and security guards indicated he probably wouldn’t venture out until morning.“I really wanted to smoke with Snoop,” said California rapper G5 The Jett. “It’d be like smoking with the Bob Marley of our time.”Upstairs, Snoop Dogg played Xbox with his DJ.Only one man — sharply dressed in a suit and tie, smiling at all who walked by — had access to the rapper: Snoop’s beloved body guard and crew member of more than 10 years, Damon.“It’s an all-night job,” Damon said, who stood at the hotel’s front desk at 4 a.m.He chatted with the receptionist, Kelly, and a security guard, Bill, while enjoying a meal of chips and candy from the hotel convenience store.It was Damon who eventually persuaded the rapper to leave his hotel room, just for a moment or two.He stepped out into the quiet hall. His eyes were clear, his smile was broad and all signs pointed to one stereotype-defying truth: Snoop Dogg was sober.He reflected on his first IU performance.“I thought it was cool,” he said softly. “I thought the crowd was rather hyped up, and I had a good time.”As for Bloomington, the rapper said he enjoyed the beautiful campus and friendly people.“I love it — basketball state,” he said. “I can get with it.”
(04/13/10 2:28am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Four decades after “Save the Whales” sentiment dominated headlines and pop culture, author and chemist Dr. Norman Holy is striving to protect a broader entity.“We’ve got to save the ocean,” he said.The Michigan native who currently resides in Bloomington said he translated extensive research into a literary wake-up call. His first nonfiction book, “Deserted Ocean: A Social History of Depletion,” hit store shelves last fall.“We’ve allowed abuse in the oceans that we wouldn’t tolerate on land,” he said. “I wrote to raise political consciousness so we as a society don’t ignore the oceans.”“Deserted Ocean,” which depicts a ship lodged in sand on the cover, chronicles the effects and future problems posed by overfishing and environmental abuse from past decades to now.Holy said it’s his call for change.“I’d like to see Americans putting the ocean as a larger priority,” he said.Holy, who received his master’s degree in chemistry from Purdue University, said he wasn’t always so adamant about activism. As a landlocked Midwesterner, he said he never viewed the ocean as something exhaustible.Because of his training as a chemist, he said he examines every problem through a scientific lens.After moving to Pennsylvania in the late 1980s, Holy became a research fellow for Rohm and Haas, a specialty materials company, where he discovered the means to construct a more biodegradable plastic.While his colleagues focused on golf tees and six-pack rings, Holy said his knowledge of fishing drove him to devise an underwater net that was safer for larger sea creatures captured by accident.Recent variations of the net are infused with barium sulfate, commonly used for pigment in white paint, and are more visible to dolphins and porpoises. The nets proved effective after testing and earned Holy national acclaim, including the World Wildlife Fund’s “Smartgear” award in 2005.“After being around dolphins for a while, you find they’re easy to like,” he said. “I wanted to reduce the number of unnecessary deaths as much as possible.”Holy’s work saving sea mammals opened his eyes to another issue: the state of the ocean itself.He said the world’s waters will be overfished and depleted to the point of collapse by 2048, according to a United Nations report.“Small lifestyle changes can turn this around,” he said. “As a society, we’ve been careless.”Allowing pollution and waste into waterways has raised toxicity in certain parts of the ocean, he said. That and increased acidity, combined with fishing in the same areas too frequently, threatens the health of underwater ecosystems.As Holy started penning his book, his colleague, Canadian marine research ecologist Boris Worm, began warning North Americans what his similar findings suggested: Favorite seafoods will be nixed from menus in about four decades if fishing practices remain unchanged.“Whether we looked at tide pools or studies over the entire world’s ocean, we saw the same picture emerging,” Worm said in a 2006 statement. “In losing species, we lose the productivity and stability of entire ecosystems. I was shocked and disturbed by how consistent these trends are — beyond anything we suspected.”Marine conversation biologist Pablo Bordino, who works with Holy to reduce fisherman capture of Franciscana dolphins in Argentina, said preserving the oceans is now a global concern.“Many fish populations are collapsing around the world, and loss of biodiversity and physical and chemical changes affect the ecological services that the ocean give us,” he said.Bordino said 18th-century German poet Johann Wolfgang von Goethe said it best: “All is born of water, all is sustained by water.”“There is a necessary challenge to face, and that is to safeguard ocean resources for future generations,” Bordino said.Now in his third year in Bloomington, Holy said there are ways residents can minimize harm on the world’s waters.“We can take pretty easy steps to help the environment,” he said. “The problem is solvable, but it takes the will to do it.”Everyday practices such as recycling, allowing yard grass to grow longer and refraining from buying plastic bottles would benefit the environment more than most people realize, he said.He said consumers should avoid purchasing overfished seafood from large corporation delis and opt for responsible selections at Bloomingfoods or farm-raised catfish and tilapia.“I had to give up monkfish, which I think is the best tasting fish there is,” Holy said. “But it’s so overfished I’m not even tempted to eat it anymore. There’s a greater cause to consider.”
(04/02/10 3:04am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Eco-friendly can be fashion- forward.Designers recycled old styles into new looks at the IU Retail Studies Organization’s annual fashion show, “Retro Revival,” on Thursday in the Indiana Memorial Union.Junior Mauralynn Ford, one of the RSO fashion show directors, said planning for the show started in January. After model auditions, lengthy practices and an afternoon of stage set-up, student fashionistas transformed Alumni Hall into a high fashion venue.“I’m finally seeing months of hard work come together,” she said. “People start talking, and it’s awesome to watch the excitement build.’”Behind the ScenesBy 4 p.m. Thursday, the air in the Union Solarium was thick with hair spray.Freshman Elise De Jean sat erect as her hair stylist, Brooke McDaniel, teased her straight brown locks into an updo of voluminous curls.“Fashion hair is crazy, abnormal, big and noticeable,” McDaniel said as she traded a brush for a curling iron. “Lots of spray and bobby pins keep it ready for the runway.”De Jean, who’d been under McDaniel’s hair care for more than an hour, said she was nervous to take her first runway stride. Though she said she felt outwardly ready—from her painted rouge lips to her rhinestone-encrusted eyelids—butterflies wreaked havoc in her stomach.“I better not trip,” she said.“Oh, you’re cool and collected,” her roommate, freshman Sasha Carandang, said.The pair dissolved into giggles. Carandang, a self-described fashion show veteran, said she had persuaded De Jean to give the catwalk a prowl.“Your adrenaline just pumps out there,” she said. “I love the first second on the runway when the lights blind you—sometimes you don’t realize what you’re doing until after you’re done.”Similar scenes of styling surrounded Carandang, De Jean and McDaniels: make-up artists dipping brushes into shimmery, rainbow palettes, hair stylists instructing models to straighten their spines, friends and mothers snapping photos of the rushed, chaotic process.And after more than three hours of primping, painting and polishing, 23 students became 23 models.On the CatwalkFashion lovers rushed to be seated around a horseshoe-shaped runway as the lights dimmed.Ford and her co-director, senior Meg Zaring, welcomed guests and thanked sponsors.“All of the models look fierce,” Ford said, smiling broadly.As the DJ spun an array of technified MGMT, Jason DeRulo and Lady Gaga, cheers of “Hot!” and “Work it!” echoed throughout the crowded room. Models, donning looks from InSeam Denim Supply, ChaCha and designs by 25 contributing fashion students, strutted across the catwalk and paused to strike a pose at each corner.De Jean said “dressers” backstage helped models perform fashion pit stops: change clothes and go, in less than two minutes.Models showcased an eclectic set of looks: bold colors and patterns of the ’60s, multicolored paisley of the ’70s, bright neons of the ’80s and chic looks in vogue now.The fashions also transitioned from casual to dressy, jeans and sandals to long satin gowns, night to day, light shades and relaxed floral to sleek black and angular hems.After models displayed decades of trends, student designers appeared together on the runway to take a bow.“Everyone did a fantastic job,” said junior Alyssa Ulrey, RSO director of philanthropy. “There was a huge turnout, and the show was awesome to watch.”And De Jean, who sported a high-waisted navy blue miniskirt, didn’t trip after all.
(03/24/10 4:29am)
Jennifer wasn’t drunk or out alone the night she was raped. The blue-eyed freshman, who keeps a bottle of pepper spray fastened to her car keys, said it could happen to anyone.
(03/09/10 2:25am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Shoulders leaned forward Monday in the IU Auditorium lobby as theater renaissance man Ben Vereen answered questions about his life, career and derriere.“I had a big butt in high school,” he said to a chuckling crowd. “I thought I couldn’t be a ballerina because they didn’t have big butts.”Since then, the 63-year-old actor, dancer and singer has proved himself wrong and merited national acclaim for his portrayal of more than 60 characters in plays, television shows and movies.George Pinney, professor and head of the musical theater department, said Vereen’s campus visit was a great honor.“His work, decades of it, is truly insightful,” he said. “Everything comes from the heart.”Vereen, who began his on-stage career with “The Prodigal Son” in 1965, said Broadway didn’t feel real until a stage manager handed him an envelope one day in 1972. He’d been nominated for a Tony Award for his role in “Jesus Christ Superstar.”“It hit me then; I’m in theater,” he said. “I’m part of the family. I still have that letter with tear stains on it.”Over the course of his 45-year career, Vereen became well-known in the entertainment industry for his roles in the 1977 television miniseries “Roots,” the 1979 film “All That Jazz” and most recently Broadway’s “Wicked.”Vereen said he wants to see modern students achieve similar success.“Isn’t it great to teach?” he said to professors in the crowd. “You’ve got these young people — frightened, nervous, hungry students — and you get to shape their energy and pass it on, like ‘Here, take it. Go.’”
(03/09/10 2:19am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Shoulders leaned forward Monday in the IU Auditorium lobby as theater renaissance man Ben Vereen answered questions about his life, career and derriere.“I had a big butt in high school,” he said to a chuckling crowd. “I thought I couldn’t be a ballerina because they didn’t have big butts.”Since then, the 63-year-old actor, dancer and singer has proved himself wrong and merited national acclaim for his portrayal of more than 60 characters in plays, television shows and movies.George Pinney, professor and head of the musical theater department, said Vereen’s campus visit was a great honor.“His work, decades of it, is truly insightful,” he said. “Everything comes from the heart.”Vereen, who began his on-stage career with “The Prodigal Son” in 1965, said Broadway didn’t feel real until a stage manager handed him an envelope one day in 1972. He’d been nominated for a Tony Award for his role in “Jesus Christ Superstar.”“It hit me then; I’m in theater,” he said. “I’m part of the family. I still have that letter with tear stains on it.”Over the course of his 45-year career, Vereen is well-known in the entertainment industry for his roles in the 1977 television miniseries “Roots,” the 1979 film “All That Jazz” and most recently Broadway’s “Wicked.”Vereen said he wants to see modern students achieve similar success.“Isn’t it great to teach?” he said to professors in the crowd. “You’ve got these young people — frightened, nervous, hungry students — and you get to shape their energy and pass it on, like ‘Here, take it. Go.’”
(02/17/10 7:45pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Three little words devoid of romantic sentiment can sum up Garry Marshall’s “Valentine’s Day”:Way too much.Three more words describe the romantic comedy’s fortunate likability:Still very cute.A combination of 18 A-listers, dozens of red roses and a network of endless, chaotic plot lines make for a wild Feb. 14 in sunny Los Angeles. And when realism lacks, star power shines.Story flaws are evident in simple, unrealistic resolutions, a tell-tale sign of too much action and not enough time. Ashton Kutcher’s character, who screams “she said yes!” upon hearing his then-fiance (Jessica Alba) accept his proposal, ends up making out with Jennifer Garner after his diamond ring is returned mid-day. The neurotic Jessica Biel, who claims her closest relationship is with her BlackBerry, ends up falling for self-proclaimed player(Jamie Foxx), though the two lack any palpable chemistry on screen. Both ending sequences are awkward and puzzling.But underneath the layer of shallow protagonists lies one notable instance of deeper meaning.When Kutcher confronts George Lopez about what love is, his response is strangely profound: “Love is devastation.” It’s enough to halt the tongues of couples making out on couches everywhere.Like love itself, “Valentine’s Day” is a confusing, fragmented, nonsensical-but-sweet ride destined to wreck.
(02/03/10 5:19am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>A friend’s dare brought junior Nicole Aders to psychic Rebecca Bartlett.Curiosity anchored her to stay for a session, though she was skeptical and terrified.She sat erect and drew quick breaths – in and out, in and out – as though she sprinted up the steps and down the blank, gray corridor to Bartlett’s office. It was a rainy Friday, and water drops speckled the surface of her suede boots.“Try to relax,” Bartlett said. “You need to unwind. Calm down for me.”Aders said she was calm, really. She thought she’d try to forget her business student rationality and open her mind to a realm beyond economics, accounting and basic understanding.“This is my first time,” she said. “I’ll try.”Bartlett closed her eyes and began twisting and turning her hands in the space around Aders’ body.She said she’d start with an aura reading to receive inner-body information and check for ailments.“Your white blood cells are back to where they should be,” Bartlett said. “Does that make sense?”Aders pursed her lips and nodded. She had undergone chemotherapy less than a year earlier, which wreaked havoc on her immune system.“I’m getting that bananas are important to your body,” Bartlett said. “You have a slight fragility in your spine. And you just hate being under water.”Aders giggled. She said her worst fear is drowning.Bartlett continued to trace lines in the air, as though reading an invisible trail of Braille.“Did you have something bad?” Bartlett asked. “And did it somehow affect your fallopian tubes?”Aders paused.“Yes,” she said. Doctors discovered a malignant tumor on her ovaries three days before spring break. “Well, Nicole, whatever you had – it’s gone,” Bartlett said. “It’s not affecting you physically anymore, but I sense it’s still with you mentally.”Bartlett sat down in a wooden chair. An inch separated her knees from brushing her client’s.“Whatever you had, it’s not coming back,” she said.Your neighborhood psychicSince relocating her small business from Nashville, Ind., to a minimalistic office she rents at Sixth and Walnut, Bartlett said she’s conducted sessions with more than 1,000 clients. Tarot cards and crystal balls aren’t part of Bartlett’s psychic regimen. Rather, she said she interprets energy through various methods of sensual receptivity or “clairsenses” – psychic abilities she said most people can harness.“Almost everyone has experienced spontaneous extrasensory perceptions,” Bartlett said. “It comes up in times of adrenaline rush, life-threatening situations and sometimes seemingly out of nowhere.”Bartlett said she believes humans can master psychic abilities with concentration, proper training and above all else, belief.“It all begins with mind over matter,” she said.But if a mind is closed to the possibility of psychic existence, Bartlett said nervous or negative energy acts as a force field she just can’t penetrate.“I had a man come in once who openly told me he didn’t believe in what I do,” Bartlett said. “After that, it was hard to get a reading. I need a relaxed, open vibe to work with.”Manifest destinyAs a child, Bartlett said she experienced frequent bouts of déjà vu.She said her mother swore she possessed an inner “homing device” – no hidden object could stay out of her small hands for long.As she entered her teenage years, Bartlett said she’d have occasional prophetic dreams: hurricanes in foreign countries would later appear in local headlines, friends’ future engagements would later manifest with shiny wedding rings.Then one night, her visions shifted from arbitrary to alarming.“In high school, I had a dream that my close friend got into a car accident,” Bartlett said. “I rushed to warn him. But later that day, he wrecked his car on the highway.”Premonitions continued to haunt her sleep as she grew older, she says, and sensitivity to others’ emotions and afflictions clouded her thoughts.“At times, it was very difficult because no one would believe me,” Bartlett said. “And I had such a desire to help people.”Confused and distressed, Bartlett began to travel.She studied philosophy in Ithaca, Greece. She attended classes in Bloomington as an IU undergraduate student.After bringing her studies to a local hospital, she made a surprising discovery.“It was the most ironic thing that had ever happened to me,” Bartlett said. “I was learning to be an X-ray technician but found that I didn’t need technology or equipment to detect tumors and other problems. I already felt when they were there.”Convinced her skills could aid the community, Bartlett said she contacted several police departments and the Indianapolis FBI in hopes of helping to solve crimes and locate missing persons.“A lot of doors got slammed in my face,” she said.Local InfluenceBartlett, 39, offers a wide array of psychic services to clients in one-on-one, hour-long sessions. Psychic healing, illness detection, preventative advice and communication with deceased loved ones are most commonly requested.Though she said her profession receives widespread skepticism, Bartlett said she’s nothing like flashy, bangle-wearing psychics portrayed in popular culture.“I’m not a fake,” she said. “That’s why I offer a guarantee. If I don’t make a psychic connection, I don’t take your money.”Bloomington resident Barbara Burton said Bartlett saved her life.“She conducted a body scan at the beginning of our session,” Burton said. “When she got to a certain point in my lower abdomen she stopped and said, ‘watch that.’ ”Following the visit, Burton scheduled a medical appointment. She said her doctor found a cancerous mass in her colon that was on the brink of threatening her life.“I hadn’t had any obvious symptoms at that point,” Burton said. “I’m so lucky I met Rebecca because I wouldn’t have known until it was too late.”On the airwavesB97 radio show host Pam Thrash met Bartlett when the psychic offered her a free reading.“I’m always game for free stuff, so I tried it,” she said. “I was blown away by the things she said, particularly pertaining to my deceased father.”Thrash insisted Bartlett conduct psychic readings for her show.When she agreed to make an appearance, listeners tied up the phone lines with inquiries. One woman called to ask about her future career.“You’ll work with the CIA,” Bartlett said after a beat of silence.The girl laughed.“Yes, I just interviewed with them,” she said. “But should I go to Mexico after graduation?”Bartlett paused.“I don’t believe that’s a good idea,” she said.That summer, Bartlett read of an epidemic, colloquially known as the swine flu, running rampant in Mexico. From the other sideMassage therapist Sue Shaver, owner of Bloomington Massage Therapy, said she knows it sounds crazy.But after deeming Bartlett’s findings too accurate to be coincidental, she began to seek psychic sessions three times a year.“I’m absolutely convinced that she’s the real thing,” Shaver said. “I get chills when she speaks.”Shaver asked Bartlett to communicate with her deceased father and nearly sobbed upon hearing the results.“I’ve never told anyone that I’m afraid of elevators,” she said. “Rebecca told me my dad said not to worry. He holds my hand every time I’m on one, and the building owners check it every month.”Bartlett acquired Shaver’s father’s Italian-American dialect when she spoke.“It sounded just like him,” she said. “I mean, how could she know he talked like that? I knew it was my dad.”