256 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
(09/21/00 4:48am)
Tenor sax John Coltane started using heroin when he was playing with Miles Davis. Rumor has it, he wanted to be able to continue to practice all through the night. \nBut Davis dumped Coltrane from his quartet in 1957 after he became an addict. Coltrane went clean, teaming up with pianist Thelonius Monk for a brief stint before he launched one of the most influential solo careers in all of jazz.\nHad he not died in 1967, Coltrane would have turned 74 Saturday.\nHis life's work will be honored by music school faculty Thursday as part of the weekly Jazz Fables series. Featuring professors Tom Walsh on saxophone and David Miller on trumpet, the birthday tribute show will be held at 5:30 p.m. today at Bear's Place, 1316 E. Third St. \n"(Coltrane) had a remarkable ability to reinvent himself," Walsh said. "He went through at least three stylistic changes during his career. And it wasn't like he woke up one day and reinvented himself. He was constantly working, constantly recording albums -- it was a natural evolution."\nWalsh said Coltrane has had an influence on his work.\n"I've studied his music and assimilated parts of it," he said. "He had a long and influential career."\nThe faculty ensemble will perform works of Coltrane from the late 1950s, including "Blue Train," "Liberia" and "Village Blues." Most of the songs are culled from his "sheets of sound" period, which is how critics described his pioneering style of improvisation with advanced chord changes.\n"In that period, he was interested in what's called vertical improvisation," Miller said. "It opened up harmonic possibilities that made him so influential."\nMiller said the ensemble, which pays tribute to Coltrane every year, just wanted to shake things up with its set this year.\n"We've done this since 1989, when Jazz Fables kicked off," said Miller, a founding member of the jazz series. "We change it up every year, so the audience remains interested and we, as musicians, remain interested. (The set) has a limited focus, but it gives a good look at a defining point in a long career."\nMiller and Walsh will be accompanied by professor Pat Harbison on trumpet, professor Jack Helsley on bass, professor Matt Pollack on drums and visiting professor Luke Gillespie on piano.\nJazz Fables takes place from 5:30-8 p.m. every Thursday at Bear's Place.
(09/21/00 4:00am)
Mayor John Fernandez has said the Buskirk-Chumley is "more than just a theater." \nJudging from Saturday evening's Leo Kottke concert, he'd be right. With tickets going at $17 a pop, the virtuoso folk guitarist packed the house. \nA sea of heads -- some nestled on companion's shoulders -- focused on the unassuming figure on stage as he deftly navigated the dozen strings of his guitar. Decked out in faded jeans and a crisp blue dress shirt, the quirky solo act rambled between songs in his signature way. \nAll over the map, Kottke wended from reminiscing of how he used to crush June bugs on the neighbor's porch as a kid to non sequitur quotation of Isaac Bashevis Singer. He joked that the "only thing he has in common with Ludwig Von Beethoven" is a love for macaroni and cheese. He complained that the high E string always goes either sharp or flat, suggesting he "might as well go hang himself." \nKottke delighted the crowd, sparking laughter like a brush fire on an arid summer day. It seemed to feed on itself, flaring up even when only a select few first saw the humor in some off-beat remark. On the balcony or below, there wasn't a pair of wilting lips or hollow eyes to be seen. \nLike any show at the Buskirk, an intermission was held for ten minutes or so of the two-hour set, allowing patrons to stretch out a bit and chat about the evening's entertainment. \nSome perused the CDs and tour memorabilia on sale in the lobby. Others waited in lines snaking to the restrooms or headed straight to the concessions stand. A good many filtered outside beneath the lit awning to strike up cigarettes and conversations. A gaggle of genial words hung inside the lobby and just outside like the billows of smoke exhaled in the night air. \nLike any show at the Buskirk, there was a strong sense of community. \nA staple of a Bloomington weekend for many, the Buskirk has only been around for little more than a year. \nBut, burdened by deepening debt, its future is already looking bleak. \nStill known by many as the Indiana Theatre, 114 E. Kirkwood Ave. was originally home to the first movie house in Bloomington. In 1922, when cinema was still fledgling, Harry and Nora Vonderschmidt decided to open a theater on the downtown stretch. It was the first theater to bring "talkies" to town and is now in the National Register of Historic Places. \nTo promote its opening, the Vonderschmidts didn't buy up billboards or airtime. In a more pastoral age, they paraded a mule bearing a stenciled placard about town. Quaint advertising or not, people flocked to the theater to witness the novelty of the motion picture. By all accounts, the Indiana Theatre was a smashing success, featuring all of the early classics such as "Ben-Hur" and "Gone with the Wind." \nBut now those days seem as distant as nickel cups of coffee and shoe shines on the street. The Vonderschmidt family sold the theater to Kerasotes in 1975 after a half-century of private ownership. In a bid to increase commercial viability, Kerasotes altered the theater's interior, blocking off the original balcony to add an upstairs screen. \nYears later, it opened a pair of multiple-screen cinemas near the mall, and patronage of the downtown movie theater dwindled until it was closed in the mid-1990s. In 1995, Kerasotes donated the theatre to the Bloomington Area Arts Council on the condition that it not show films. So the BAAC decided to use the space as a performing arts center, embarking on costly renovation. \nThe original balcony had to be entirely restored, and the costs skyrocketed. A not-for-profit group, the BAAC relies entirely on donor support. \nWhen the dust from the renovation had cleared, the arts council was left holding a bill of about $3.5 million. \n"We had to bring it up to date," said Maureen Friel, president of the BAAC's board. "We had to take care of handicapped accessibility and other things." \nAt first the prospects of the theater seemed bright. Opening in April 1999, it regularly sold out, featuring such diverse acts as local folk artist Carrie Newcomer and national alt rock band The Flaming Lips. It wasn't solely a place for musical acts, though. It has lent a stage for plays like the contemporary comedy "Beau Jest." And it provided a venue for many of the ceremonies during the Dalai Lama's Kalachakra. \nThe theater has done wonders for the local music scene. Monica Herzig certainly thinks so. Herzig is a founding member of Jazz from Bloomington, a local jazz society that tries to spread the good word. Since its inception in 1999, the JfB has released a few CDs and booked national acts such as John Scofield and Danilo Perez. \n"We wouldn't even exist were it not for the Buskirk," she said. "None of it would be possible." \nWith the acclaimed IU School of Music in its midst, Bloomington has always been a great town for jazz. But Herzig said the Buskirk offers so much more than other local venues, such as Bear's Place and the Encore Cafe. \n"It has an actual concert atmosphere," she said. "You have real sound and a real professional feel. It's put us on the national touring map." \nPatronage has been consistently high at the Buskirk. And at first, money poured in. Many companies and well-off families made sizeable contributions, including a sum total of $600,000 from its namesakes, the Buskirks and Chumleys.\nBut donations -- large ones at any rate -- have since disappeared. The Buskirk now stands more than $800,000 in debt to the Monroe County Bank, where it has taken out a mortgage and a loan. The $400,000 mortgage went into effect in May, and the interest off the loan has been climbing steeply.\nWithout many shows or much student and faculty patronage, the summer proved especially harsh for the Buskirk. Payrolls had to be deferred and positions cut or made part-time. \n"Things are picking up," Friel said. "We've been able to meet payroll and make due with a reduced staff. It's just a matter of balancing income and expenses."\nMany took the Buskirk's financial woes as a call to action. Renowned violinist Corey Cervosek accompanied the Bloomington Symphony Orchestra for an early September benefit show. Cervosek graciously performed the works of Vivaldi, Paganinni and Rossini with rapturous gusto before a sold-out house.\nA week later, members of the Bloomington Music Works belted out Broadway tunes for a "Divas 2000" benefit concert. And BAAC members have hastened to renew their annual memberships earlier than usual. \nBut their efforts have only amounted to a scant trickle of income. \n"We very much appreciate the community support," Friel said. "But the big donations have just trailed off." \nFriel said the recent show of community concern didn't come as a surprise to her. \n"In this city, arts are very visible and highly supported," she said. "It's a big part of Bloomington." \nThe municipal government has even stepped in, taking up the Buskirk's cause. Fernandez appointed a commission to help develop a business plan that would "restore donor confidence." \nThe commission first met Friday, assessing what needs to be done. Chair Ted Najam, an Indiana Court of Appeals judge, said the commission would try to accomplish its goal in as prompt a fashion as possible.\nWhen all is said and done, the Buskirk simply needs a solid business plan.\n"We need to introduce fiduciary responsibility," Friel said. "That's the obstacle we face right now." \nAnd much rides on the Buskirk's fate. With the June closing of the Von Lee and the imminent departure of the Book Corner, many fear the downtown is losing its character. And if the Buskirk buckles under debt, it's likely that the BAAC would be forced to sell the John Waldron Arts Center. Located on South Walnut Avenue, the Waldron is a hub of theater and visual arts in Bloomington. It also offers seminars and classes to aspiring artists.\n"It's just my five cents," Herzig said. "But I hope people come out of the woodwork with financial help"
(09/21/00 12:33am)
Mayor John Fernandez has said the Buskirk-Chumley is "more than just a theater." \nJudging from Saturday evening's Leo Kottke concert, he'd be right. With tickets going at $17 a pop, the virtuoso folk guitarist packed the house. \nA sea of heads -- some nestled on companion's shoulders -- focused on the unassuming figure on stage as he deftly navigated the dozen strings of his guitar. Decked out in faded jeans and a crisp blue dress shirt, the quirky solo act rambled between songs in his signature way. \nAll over the map, Kottke wended from reminiscing of how he used to crush June bugs on the neighbor's porch as a kid to non sequitur quotation of Isaac Bashevis Singer. He joked that the "only thing he has in common with Ludwig Von Beethoven" is a love for macaroni and cheese. He complained that the high E string always goes either sharp or flat, suggesting he "might as well go hang himself." \nKottke delighted the crowd, sparking laughter like a brush fire on an arid summer day. It seemed to feed on itself, flaring up even when only a select few first saw the humor in some off-beat remark. On the balcony or below, there wasn't a pair of wilting lips or hollow eyes to be seen. \nLike any show at the Buskirk, an intermission was held for ten minutes or so of the two-hour set, allowing patrons to stretch out a bit and chat about the evening's entertainment. \nSome perused the CDs and tour memorabilia on sale in the lobby. Others waited in lines snaking to the restrooms or headed straight to the concessions stand. A good many filtered outside beneath the lit awning to strike up cigarettes and conversations. A gaggle of genial words hung inside the lobby and just outside like the billows of smoke exhaled in the night air. \nLike any show at the Buskirk, there was a strong sense of community. \nA staple of a Bloomington weekend for many, the Buskirk has only been around for little more than a year. \nBut, burdened by deepening debt, its future is already looking bleak. \nStill known by many as the Indiana Theatre, 114 E. Kirkwood Ave. was originally home to the first movie house in Bloomington. In 1922, when cinema was still fledgling, Harry and Nora Vonderschmidt decided to open a theater on the downtown stretch. It was the first theater to bring "talkies" to town and is now in the National Register of Historic Places. \nTo promote its opening, the Vonderschmidts didn't buy up billboards or airtime. In a more pastoral age, they paraded a mule bearing a stenciled placard about town. Quaint advertising or not, people flocked to the theater to witness the novelty of the motion picture. By all accounts, the Indiana Theatre was a smashing success, featuring all of the early classics such as "Ben-Hur" and "Gone with the Wind." \nBut now those days seem as distant as nickel cups of coffee and shoe shines on the street. The Vonderschmidt family sold the theater to Kerasotes in 1975 after a half-century of private ownership. In a bid to increase commercial viability, Kerasotes altered the theater's interior, blocking off the original balcony to add an upstairs screen. \nYears later, it opened a pair of multiple-screen cinemas near the mall, and patronage of the downtown movie theater dwindled until it was closed in the mid-1990s. In 1995, Kerasotes donated the theatre to the Bloomington Area Arts Council on the condition that it not show films. So the BAAC decided to use the space as a performing arts center, embarking on costly renovation. \nThe original balcony had to be entirely restored, and the costs skyrocketed. A not-for-profit group, the BAAC relies entirely on donor support. \nWhen the dust from the renovation had cleared, the arts council was left holding a bill of about $3.5 million. \n"We had to bring it up to date," said Maureen Friel, president of the BAAC's board. "We had to take care of handicapped accessibility and other things." \nAt first the prospects of the theater seemed bright. Opening in April 1999, it regularly sold out, featuring such diverse acts as local folk artist Carrie Newcomer and national alt rock band The Flaming Lips. It wasn't solely a place for musical acts, though. It has lent a stage for plays like the contemporary comedy "Beau Jest." And it provided a venue for many of the ceremonies during the Dalai Lama's Kalachakra. \nThe theater has done wonders for the local music scene. Monica Herzig certainly thinks so. Herzig is a founding member of Jazz from Bloomington, a local jazz society that tries to spread the good word. Since its inception in 1999, the JfB has released a few CDs and booked national acts such as John Scofield and Danilo Perez. \n"We wouldn't even exist were it not for the Buskirk," she said. "None of it would be possible." \nWith the acclaimed IU School of Music in its midst, Bloomington has always been a great town for jazz. But Herzig said the Buskirk offers so much more than other local venues, such as Bear's Place and the Encore Cafe. \n"It has an actual concert atmosphere," she said. "You have real sound and a real professional feel. It's put us on the national touring map." \nPatronage has been consistently high at the Buskirk. And at first, money poured in. Many companies and well-off families made sizeable contributions, including a sum total of $600,000 from its namesakes, the Buskirks and Chumleys.\nBut donations -- large ones at any rate -- have since disappeared. The Buskirk now stands more than $800,000 in debt to the Monroe County Bank, where it has taken out a mortgage and a loan. The $400,000 mortgage went into effect in May, and the interest off the loan has been climbing steeply.\nWithout many shows or much student and faculty patronage, the summer proved especially harsh for the Buskirk. Payrolls had to be deferred and positions cut or made part-time. \n"Things are picking up," Friel said. "We've been able to meet payroll and make due with a reduced staff. It's just a matter of balancing income and expenses."\nMany took the Buskirk's financial woes as a call to action. Renowned violinist Corey Cervosek accompanied the Bloomington Symphony Orchestra for an early September benefit show. Cervosek graciously performed the works of Vivaldi, Paganinni and Rossini with rapturous gusto before a sold-out house.\nA week later, members of the Bloomington Music Works belted out Broadway tunes for a "Divas 2000" benefit concert. And BAAC members have hastened to renew their annual memberships earlier than usual. \nBut their efforts have only amounted to a scant trickle of income. \n"We very much appreciate the community support," Friel said. "But the big donations have just trailed off." \nFriel said the recent show of community concern didn't come as a surprise to her. \n"In this city, arts are very visible and highly supported," she said. "It's a big part of Bloomington." \nThe municipal government has even stepped in, taking up the Buskirk's cause. Fernandez appointed a commission to help develop a business plan that would "restore donor confidence." \nThe commission first met Friday, assessing what needs to be done. Chair Ted Najam, an Indiana Court of Appeals judge, said the commission would try to accomplish its goal in as prompt a fashion as possible.\nWhen all is said and done, the Buskirk simply needs a solid business plan.\n"We need to introduce fiduciary responsibility," Friel said. "That's the obstacle we face right now." \nAnd much rides on the Buskirk's fate. With the June closing of the Von Lee and the imminent departure of the Book Corner, many fear the downtown is losing its character. And if the Buskirk buckles under debt, it's likely that the BAAC would be forced to sell the John Waldron Arts Center. Located on South Walnut Avenue, the Waldron is a hub of theater and visual arts in Bloomington. It also offers seminars and classes to aspiring artists.\n"It's just my five cents," Herzig said. "But I hope people come out of the woodwork with financial help"
(09/20/00 6:26am)
Corrected Sept. 19, 2000 08:45 p.m.\nWyclef Jean, the former Fugee bassist turned solo rapper and Grammy-winning producer, will be coming to campus in October.\nWith tickets going for $26.50 for students and $32.50 for nonstudents, Wyclef will perform with De La Soul and Black Eyed Peas at 7:30 Oct. 15 at the IU Auditorium. Booked by Union Board, the concert will be part of the MTV Cbampus Invasion Tour. \n"We've been working to bring a hip-hop concert to IU for some time now," said senior Jeff Zuckerman, Union Board concerts director. "To finally make it happen with such a strong lineup is fabulous. This is not a concert to be missed."\nDuring the day of the concert, the MTV Village will offer a variety of interactive entertainment, including a DJ setup that allows guests to remix and record compact disks.\n"When we heard that Campus Invasion had signed on Wyclef, it seemed like the ideal opportunity," Zuckerman said. "It'll be exciting to have the day village in Dunn Meadow."\nUnion Board has scheduled an array of musical acts for this fall, including country legend Bonnie Raitt and psychedelic blues band The String Cheese Incident. \n"We've being trying to serve all the niches on campus," said junior Vaughn Allen, Union Board public relations director. "We try to fill the voids, and so I guess our programming is eclectic."\nAllen said show will go off without a hitch, unlike the Bush/Moby cancellation in the spring. Through booking agency Rock 'n Roll Productions, Bush and Moby were slated to play a Campus Invasion Tour stop with Rage Against the Machine. Because of contractual disputes, all of the scheduled bands pulled out, and many fans have still not been reimbursed for their tickets.\n"This is all set up," Allen said. "It's a guaranteed show."\nWyclef Jean just released his second solo album, The Ecleftic ' 2 Sides II A Book, in late August. Featuring many provocative tracks like "Where Fugee At" and "Dirty South," it has been propelled to the top ten in sales.\nDe La Soul, who will also be appearing, released its last album, Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump, in late August. \nThough it did not fare as well commercially as Wyclef's debut, the record garnered praise from critics. \n"As consistent as death or taxes," read a Billboard review, "De La Soul can be counted on to take hip-hop listeners to the next level."\nAround since the late 1980s, De La Soul is largely credited with pioneering "alternative rap." With its laid-back beats and irreverent lyrics, it paved the way for such groups as A Tribe Called Quest, Digable Planets and their opening act, Black Eyed Peas.\nTickets go on sale at 10 a.m. Friday. They will be available at all Ticketmaster locations, as well as the Indiana Memorial Union Activities Desk and the IU Auditorium Box Office. To charge by phone, call (812) 333-9955.
(09/20/00 3:09am)
Ah, November ' the month of wool-knit cardigans, family get-togethers and participation in the meaningless fiction of democracy.\nThat's right, November's just around the corner.\nIt's election season, in case you were a gimp kept in a cellar for perverse sadomasochistic purposes.\nMany pundits have been prattling about the respective education policies of the candidates. After all, education is an issue key to winning over soccer moms in swing states. But few of these Sabbath gasbags, who so pollute CNN with their babble and off-base predictions, actually examine what we're learning from the election.\nAnd I must say, this presidential race has been very educational.\nFor instance, I never would have guessed New York Times reporter Adam Clymer was a "major league asshole." George W. Bush seems to think so. And I can't say I knew the American people apparently get a kick out of watching hot Gore-on-Gore action.\n(Note to soccer moms: What transpired between Al and Tipper at the convention was not passion. I'm leafing through my unabridged Merriam-Webster dictionary to find the more fitting term. Oh, here it is: manipulation.)\nI've learned that, if I were a Jewish vice presidential candidate for a major party on the Conan O'Brien show, I would not croon any Frank Sinatra. And I've learned that the inspiring firebrand Dick Cheney would have made Harry Truman look like Bob Dole on the stump.\nIt's now apparent to me that the public doesn't think of wearing your religion on your sleeve as shameless pandering. On the contrary, it means a veritable boost in the polls. Maybe if I pray to Yahweh real hard, I too can be elected to the Senate. Why, I can see it now: "I yield the floor to the distinguished gentleman without any pants."\nI've learned that knowing how to properly speak English isn't really a criterion for being a presidential candidate. George W. Bush has taught me that working families struggle to "put food on their families." He's also informed me that terriers play an important role in economics. And to think all that time I just thought they were cute little dogs.\nJust last week, Bush helped me to expand my vocabulary.\nWhen grilled by reporters about a controversial ad, he repeatedly used the term "subliminable."\nYou see, he had been accused of sending a subliminal message in an ad that attacks Gore's health care proposal. Basically, the ad blasts Gore for wanting to take the choice between HMOs out of the people's hands and instead transfer it to the federal government. The word "bureaucrats" floats up onto the screen, and for about a thirtieth of a second it reads "rats." \nThe press caught on about two weeks after it was released, taking Bush to task with allegations of going negative.\nEven if it wasn't intentionally inserted, someone had to intentionally leave it in. After all, these political ad guys don't start work on these ads at 3 a.m. the day before deadline. They meticulously put together and edit these ads. \nPersonally, I don't see why anyone would get all fussy over an alleged subliminal insult in a Christ-forsaken attack ad. The ad overtly criticizes Gore. It belligerently criticizes Gore. It makes no bones whatsoever about criticizing Gore. At the end of the day, it makes no difference if it accuses him of being a "rat."\nAnd it's not as though politicians haven't been called worse. We seem to have forgotten the proud history of vicious mudslinging in American politics. Back in the first presidential election in 1776, George Washington called Abraham Lincoln "a crack-addled degenerate," a "really tall freak" and a "Nazi." Had he not mercilessly trashed Abe's character, it's unlikely he would have been swept into office. And then he never would have made all those great and fabled accomplishments ' like, um, being reelected to a second term.\nIt seems I've digressed from the main point of this column. I think it had to do with education or something.
(09/19/00 5:25am)
Whenever a novel is adapted to celluloid, critics always take to vehement clucking.\nThey pick apart the adaptations, dwelling on the inconsistencies and how the film version lacks the spirit of the original. Whether the box office bomb "Bram Stoker's Dracula" or the critically acclaimed "Howard's End," someone is invariably up in arms, clamoring about the lack of faithfulness, the creative liberties taken.\nBut this is the age of the popcorn movie. Accustomed to the sound and fury of the summer blockbuster, moviegoers demand flash and bang for their buck.\nHollywood moguls are less likely to look to the canon of Western literature these days than they are to the tattered, ink-bled pages of comic books. After all, comic books would be the obvious choice. Beside a guaranteed lock on the adolescent demographic, they have a strong visual component, which lends itself well to the silver screen.\nAnd the so-called graphic novels have born much fruit at the box office in the recent past. "Men in Black" was a smash hit, and films like "Blade" and "Mystery Men" fared much better than anyone expected.\nOnly a few years earlier, the genre seemed moribund, seized by rigor mortis. Director Tim Burton had abandoned the "Batman" film franchise, which then churned out sequel after unsuccessful sequel, the budget of each more bloated than the last. No one anticipated a renaissance.\nBut things seem to have turned full circle. In July, Bryan Singer's "X-Men" proved to be the surprise of the summer. Despite its moodiness, it grossed about $56 million in its opening weekend. Despite its kitschy source of inspiration, the response from critics was, by and large, favorable. Most significantly, despite its departures from the comic version, loyal fans received it with open arms.\nRarely is such a feat achieved. \nDevotees of comic books are notoriously hard to please, inclined to groan whenever they hear of a studio's plans to option a particular title.\n"When I go to see such a movie, I always expect the worst," said Doug Wilds, a co-owner of Vintage Phoenix, 114 E. Sixth St. "It might be just morbid curiosity, but I always go in thinking to myself that hopefully it won't be that bad."\nNow that the 25th Century Five and Dime has gone out of business, Vintage Phoenix is the only game in town. A few customers silently stalk about the shelves in mid-afternoon, looking with furrowed brows for whatever title happens to suit their fancy. \nWilds sits serenely behind the glass counter, leafing through a trade journal.\nHe recalls particular movies that have gained varying degrees of notoriety in the subculture.\n"The worst that I know of is 'Steel,'" he said, referring a film starring Shaquille O'Neal as the DC hero. "I've never seen it, and I can't say I know many who did. But those brave enough really hated it. I still hear people coming in mocking it."\nBut "X-Men" changed the rules and challenged the conventional wisdom in Wilds' opinion.\nFilm critics either lauded the movie or panned it for the same reason ' it took itself seriously. In a dramatic innovation for the genre, Singer decided to eschew the sidelong irony that has come to characterize it.\n"It was very well done for a comic book movie," Wilds said. "It was well-written. And they never went overboard with the self-references. They're usually really campy."\nWilds said it contrasted favorably with "Captain America" and the 1970s Incredible Hulk television series.\n"It shows that it can be done," he said. "All you need is a really good writer. Well, good writing and a good story."\nThis school of thinking extends well beyond Wilds' Sixth Street shop.\nIn the wake of "X-Men," Sony announced it is now ratcheting up the scale of a forthcoming Spiderman film, a franchise of Marvel Comics, the industry's titan. In a play to increase commercial viability, the scheduled release date is being moved back from November 2001 to May 2002.\n"What it does for us, it's the first movie of the summer, it starts the whole business," executive producer Avi Arad said in a press release. "It also makes it a summer movie in Europe. We get out May 3, and I think we are going to have an incredible run. Christmas would have been good, but it's not summer."\nArad avowed the only flaw to be found in Singer's film was its relatively late release.\n"We decided that we are much better off with a movie in the summer, especially after 'X-Men,'" he said. "We'll be starting the summer like 'Gladiator.' I like summer movies." \nAnd like "X-Men," which starred Shakespearean-trained actors Ian MacKellan and Patrick Stewart, the Spiderman movie should boast actual talent. The movie is tentatively slated to star Toby Maguire as Peter Parker, Kate Hudson as love interest Mary Jane and John Malkovich as the Green Goblin. Sam Raimi, of "Evil Dead" and "A Simple Plan" fame, is already committed to direct. Arad is already enthused about which villains will appear in the sequels.\nAs originally intended, a sequel for "X-Men" is already in the works. Unlike Burton's "Batman," none of the characters are killed off, and narrative threads are deliberately left open. Singer plans on directing again, and most of the cast is contractually bound to return for another go at it. \nMarvel's rival DC also took heart from the success of "X-Men." It's revived plans to make a big budget action movie based on that American icon, Superman. It won't be as campy as the Christopher Reeves franchise, though it should be somewhat off-kilter with Nicholas Cage in the lead role and Kevin Smith possibly directing.\nWhile "X-Men" may have made studios more receptive to adaptations, it's largely still the same old ballgame of hit or miss. Dark Horse Comics has been in the movie business for years. It's been optioning out its franchises and producing the film versions since the early '90s. \n"We decided that we ought to branch out," said Shauna Irvin-Coore, a spokeswoman for Dark Horse. "It's making the most of our assets. The comic book is the most exciting medium today. With all of the creativity in comics, it's becoming fruitful for studios to explore one of the best content providers." \nMany of Dark Horse's movies ' like "Tank Girl," "Barbed Wire" and "Time Cop" ' have crashed and burned, leaving only skid marks and splotches of motor oil. But it's also had smash hits to its credit.\n"The Mask" garnered much fanfare, propelling its rubber-faced lead Jim Carrey into superstardom. For a while, he was the highest-paid actor in Hollywood, bringing in $30 million a film. And the offbeat "Mystery Men" ingratiated a good many critics and moviegoers alike.\nBut Irvin-Coore concedes that, unlike "X-Men," neither film has much in common with the source of inspiration.\n"'Mystery Men' is a great adaptation," she said. "It's not really like the comic, which is funnier and more grounded in real life. They put it in a bigger, Hollywood way. But it did well, and you can't argue with that."\n"X-Men" or not, Irvin-Coore said she foresees more comic book adaptation in the future. She said more film versions of popular comic books are now possible with advances in CGI, or computer-generated imagery.\n"With all of the special effects that people now expect, CGI allows us to make some characters look more credible on the screen," she said. "Yeah, Spawn may have just been a guy in a suit, but it was digitally enhanced.\n"Now that it's opened up, there's going to be more. It's a very rich field"
(09/18/00 4:24am)
At the end of a two-hour set Saturday, folk musician Leo Kottke brought a packed house at the Buskirk-Chumley Theater to thunderous applause.\nOn the surface, it's hard to see why people would be so roused.\nKottke cuts a fairly unassuming figure, decked out in faded jeans and a blue dress shirt with a wave of dusty brown hair. Though he was born in Atlanta, he looks as Midwestern as a sea of grain.\nAnd his husky baritone is better suited to talking than singing.\nHardly oblivious to the fact, Kottke has described his voice as akin to "geese farts on a muggy day."\nBut his new album ' his first one since his last, as the ads put it ' isn't titled One Guitar, No Vocals without reason. Kottke simply lets his nimble fingers do the talking, dazzling audiences with his virtuosity on the 12-string slide guitar.\nHe's also an unlikely musician, having hearing impediments in both ears from a stint in the Navy and a firecracker accident when he was young. Yet, Kottke weaves breath-taking, intricate melodies providing his own percussion with rhythmic licks. His refined skill has allowed him to collaborate with acts as diverse as country legend Emmylou Harris and alternative rock band Big Head Todd and the Monsters. \nHe performed several songs from his new album Saturday, such as the Carribean-flavored "Snorkel." But with more than 20 full-length albums in his storied 30-year career, it was often difficult to sift the new from the old.\nHaving spent most of his life on the road after he dropped out of college, Kottke always has a lot of stories to tell, like a sort of folk rock Jack Kerouac. Talking about everything from the sappiness of Christmas albums to Joseph Conrad, he amused the crowd with his rambling as he tinkered with his tuning.\nAt one point, he declared the only thing he "has in common with Ludwig Von Beethoven" is a shared love of macaroni and cheese.\nAs odd as the comment might seem, it's dead-on.
(09/14/00 9:36am)
There are a few things in life that I'd like to do.\nI'd like to convince the editors at the Village Voice to allow me to report on the Mets. I'd like to discover a cure for sickle cell anemia, feed and clothe the homeless, find inner peace and come up with a really great recipe for beef cannelloni.\nYes, I'd like to eliminate all needless human suffering, including exposure to really bad pasta casserole. And the next time I'm waiting in line behind some schmuck paying for a $1.29 fountain drink with a credit card, that's exactly why I'd like to take a brick to his skull ' again and again and again and again...\nNo wait, scratch that one. I'm already on probation.\nSomething I've yet to get around to doing is to attend the Burning Man Festival, an annual event held amid the wilderness of Nevada during the week of Labor Day. Culminating in the ceremonial burning of a 52-foot wooden man, it's part arts festival, part anarchy. It's all bacchanal.\nTyping away at my word processor, I can already hear my editor clucking over my use of bacchanal, which is known in the journalism business as a $10 word. Well, it's Greek in origin. Bacchus is another name of Dionysus, the god of wine and high spirits. In modern-day English, bacchanal loosely translates into "getting seriously sloshed with, like, a bunch of other people. And stuff."\nBasically, at Burning Man a slew of iconoclastic freaks go out to the desert, where they can't really bathe or attend to other matters of personal hygiene for more than a week. Money is altogether useless at the communal event, and the only things you can barter for are ice and gasoline.\nAdmittedly, it doesn't sound like fun. It sounds like vacationing at some Super 8 in the rolling hills of Kentucky.\nAh, but it's so much more, and the attendees aren't functionally illiterate.\nOn the contrary, they're artistically inclined, filling the Nevada wasteland with sculpture, as well as conceptual and performance art.\nAnd it's not the sort of art you'd see on display at the Louvre. In fact, much of it would make a Francis Bacon exhibit look like an arts and crafts festival in Akron, Ohio. We're talking about art installations like an artificial tree made entirely of animal bones and a "Costco Soul Mate Trading Outlet," which features life partners at bulk rates. Costco encourages patrons to "trade in their old loved ones for fresh, new ones."\nThat, and a good many of the attendees are naked.\nThe proverbial ball for Burning Man got rolling when founder Larry Harvey spontaneously burned a generic effigy in San Francisco Bay back in 1985. It's rumored that he was pissed off about a nasty breakup.\nHe took to doing it every year, inviting some of his friends along. Since the Reagan administration, it's ballooned from a few dozen people to more than 30,000. Harvey even had to found a Burning Man Limited Liability Corporation to grapple legally with the insurance risks.\nI hear the monthly rates for wide-scale arson are fairly unreasonable.\nBut that's basically why I declined to attend. Tickets now run at $200 a pop.\nWhat's still worse is that the Burning Man has become a haven for Silicon Valley yuppies. Wired magazine even reports that "low-key networking" goes on. That's right, you heard it here first ' Burning Man has sold out to the man.\nActually, you probably already heard it from the San Francisco Chronicle. But I'll officially ring its death knell. Burning Man was once a pure, unadulterated expression of rage ' gloriously homicidal rage.\nWe're talking about a festival that has relentlessly mocked and chided the vapid consumerism of our day and age. Once a bastion of scathing contempt for the evils of commercialism, Burning Man is now overrun by dot-comers. The event's organizers have even had to ban Internet access to prevent attendees from neurotically checking their e-mail every five minutes.\nSomething so noble, so pure, has been corrupted.\nSomewhere, doubtless out in the Nevada desert, an Indian is shedding a single tear.
(09/14/00 5:35am)
Blues legend Bonnie Raitt will bring her signature twang and slide guitar to campus next month.\nUnion Board booked the Rock and Roll Hall of Famer for a concert at 7:30 p.m. Oct. 17 at the IU Auditorium. Available at all local Ticketmaster locations, tickets run from $25 to $40, with a $5 discount for students.\n"She has an extremely broad fan base," said UB Concerts Director Jeff Zuckerman, a senior.\n"This is a tremendous opportunity for Union Board to bring a show that can delight an entire community."\nRaitt is touring for the album Fundamental, which she released in 1998. \nThough grounded in the Memphis blues with which she has made a name for herself, the album involved experimental orchestral arrangements, garnering her some critical acclaim.\n"On Fundamental, Raitt makes room for all facets of her musical personality, from sassy rock to sophisticated balladry," wrote USA Today reviewer Edna Gunderson. "She's matured with mellowing, leaving room in her expanding repertoire for the signature rebel yells of her early work as well as the Grammy-winning silky pop of late."\nRaitt has taken to playing smaller venues to augment her typically larger scale performances, said Andy Wilson, a spokesperson for Sunshine Promotions. \n"I know she's been hitting a lot of smaller markets," he said. "I think she wants to perform in more intimate settings, but I can't speak for her or anything."\nThe daughter of Broadway star and accomplished pianist John Raitt, Bonnie has played everything from reggae to soul. After nearly 30 years of touring, she has nabbed nine Grammys, starting with the commercially successful 1989 album Nick of Time. Her 1994 album Longing in Their Hearts topped the charts and ended up going platinum. A year later, the release of Fender's Bonnie Raitt Signature Series Stratocaster made her the first woman musician to have a guitar named after her.\nZuckerman said her storied career is her appeal to students.\n"It's not a traditional show for college students," he said. "But she's a legend of rock and roll and blues. I think everyone can appreciate a legend. And, plus, her last album was really good."\nTickets go on sale at 10:00 a.m Friday.\nUnion Board is also bringing the eclectic jam band String Cheese Incident back to campus for an Oct. 19 show at the Auditorium. They sold out the Buskirk-Chumley Theater last fall.\n"They were disappointed that not everyone who wanted to see their show did," Zuckerman said. "So they approached us about coming back."\nFor more information, or to order tickets, visit www.sfx.com.
(09/14/00 4:00am)
There are a few things in life that I'd like to do.\nI'd like to convince the editors at the Village Voice to allow me to report on the Mets. I'd like to discover a cure for sickle cell anemia, feed and clothe the homeless, find inner peace and come up with a really great recipe for beef cannelloni.\nYes, I'd like to eliminate all needless human suffering, including exposure to really bad pasta casserole. And the next time I'm waiting in line behind some schmuck paying for a $1.29 fountain drink with a credit card, that's exactly why I'd like to take a brick to his skull ' again and again and again and again...\nNo wait, scratch that one. I'm already on probation.\nSomething I've yet to get around to doing is to attend the Burning Man Festival, an annual event held amid the wilderness of Nevada during the week of Labor Day. Culminating in the ceremonial burning of a 52-foot wooden man, it's part arts festival, part anarchy. It's all bacchanal.\nTyping away at my word processor, I can already hear my editor clucking over my use of bacchanal, which is known in the journalism business as a $10 word. Well, it's Greek in origin. Bacchus is another name of Dionysus, the god of wine and high spirits. In modern-day English, bacchanal loosely translates into "getting seriously sloshed with, like, a bunch of other people. And stuff."\nBasically, at Burning Man a slew of iconoclastic freaks go out to the desert, where they can't really bathe or attend to other matters of personal hygiene for more than a week. Money is altogether useless at the communal event, and the only things you can barter for are ice and gasoline.\nAdmittedly, it doesn't sound like fun. It sounds like vacationing at some Super 8 in the rolling hills of Kentucky.\nAh, but it's so much more, and the attendees aren't functionally illiterate.\nOn the contrary, they're artistically inclined, filling the Nevada wasteland with sculpture, as well as conceptual and performance art.\nAnd it's not the sort of art you'd see on display at the Louvre. In fact, much of it would make a Francis Bacon exhibit look like an arts and crafts festival in Akron, Ohio. We're talking about art installations like an artificial tree made entirely of animal bones and a "Costco Soul Mate Trading Outlet," which features life partners at bulk rates. Costco encourages patrons to "trade in their old loved ones for fresh, new ones."\nThat, and a good many of the attendees are naked.\nThe proverbial ball for Burning Man got rolling when founder Larry Harvey spontaneously burned a generic effigy in San Francisco Bay back in 1985. It's rumored that he was pissed off about a nasty breakup.\nHe took to doing it every year, inviting some of his friends along. Since the Reagan administration, it's ballooned from a few dozen people to more than 30,000. Harvey even had to found a Burning Man Limited Liability Corporation to grapple legally with the insurance risks.\nI hear the monthly rates for wide-scale arson are fairly unreasonable.\nBut that's basically why I declined to attend. Tickets now run at $200 a pop.\nWhat's still worse is that the Burning Man has become a haven for Silicon Valley yuppies. Wired magazine even reports that "low-key networking" goes on. That's right, you heard it here first ' Burning Man has sold out to the man.\nActually, you probably already heard it from the San Francisco Chronicle. But I'll officially ring its death knell. Burning Man was once a pure, unadulterated expression of rage ' gloriously homicidal rage.\nWe're talking about a festival that has relentlessly mocked and chided the vapid consumerism of our day and age. Once a bastion of scathing contempt for the evils of commercialism, Burning Man is now overrun by dot-comers. The event's organizers have even had to ban Internet access to prevent attendees from neurotically checking their e-mail every five minutes.\nSomething so noble, so pure, has been corrupted.\nSomewhere, doubtless out in the Nevada desert, an Indian is shedding a single tear.
(09/12/00 5:35am)
Eponine Cuervo-Moll would like to expand popular definitions of music and the human body.\nThe Colombian-born choreographer serves as art director of Corpus Ludens, a San Francisco-based avant garde jazz dance troupe.\nThe troupe will perform at 8 p.m. Tuesday at the Rose Firebay Theater in the John Waldron Arts Center, 122 S. Walnut St. The cover charge is $4.\nCorpus Lundens, which is Latin for "dancing bodies," is an improvisational ensemble seeking to strike a balance between music and dance. Cuervo-Moll, who has been trained in modern dance and traditional Japanese theater, has written that "the dancers play the instrument of silence through movement, while the musicians use sounds as sonic movements through space."\nCuervo-Moll also serves as the troupe's dancer, "choreographing" her pieces while onstage. She is accompanied by the improvised jazz stylings of contra bassist Morgan Guberman, percussionist Ian Davis and multi-instrumentalist Andrew Voigt.\nTom Donohue, who owns the record store TD's CDs and LPs, 322 E. Kirkwood Ave., said Bloomington's intellectual climate makes it a suitable environment for experimental jazz.\n"We tend to be more accepting of different forms of art," he said. "This town is more likely than not to accept avant garde jazz."\nLocal electro-acoustic improvisational group Unstable Ensemble, consisting of a rotating group of musicians, will open. \n"(Unstable Ensemble) is not as unstable as its name suggests," said graduate student Jessica Baldanzi, who hosts Melody Unmasked, an experimental jazz show that airs on WFHB. "It's outstanding ' in the same league as groups from Chicago and New York."\nBaldanzi, a doctoral candidate for English, has been long committed to bringing more experimental music to Bloomington. She's a member of Beyond the Pale Promotions, a non-profit booking group that attempts to expand Bloomington's appreciation of "out-there music." \n"I find that (avant garde jazz) contradicts people's expectations," she said. "I love pop music, don't get me wrong. It has its place, but people don't always need to be fed the sugarly, sweet and happy. There's so much more out there."\nUnstable Ensemble acoustic guitarist Eric Weddle agrees the music is off the beaten path.\n"It's not the type of music you hear on the radio," he said. "It takes patience. Those who need to be instantly satisfied may not get it. I would say that it's very challenging."\nWeddle, also the guitarist for the local punk act John Wilkes Booze Explosion, booked Corpus Lundens for the performance. \n"They're beyond the pale," he said. "But that doesn't make it marginalized. It's worth checking out."\nBoth acts have projects in the works. Corpus Ludens will produce their new pieces in October at the La Mama Theater in New York. And the Unstable Ensemble has recently finished recording for their upcoming album The 2-9 Variations, which will be released on the local label Family Vineyard.\nFor more information, visit the Bloomington Area Arts Council online at www.artlives.org.
(09/11/00 3:41am)
Carrie Newcomer has made a name for herself nationally, garnering critical acclaim and the admiration of award-winning author Barbara Kingsolver.\nBut she will always remain a Hoosier at heart, a fact she played up in asides during her Friday show at the Buskirk-Chumley Theatre, 114 E. Kirkwood Ave. Her connection with the audience is one of her strongest suits, honed from years of performing at small clubs and other acoustic venues. Newcomer is capable of putting on a great live show, and she did just that. \nBorn in northwestern Indiana, Newcomer's music has a distinctly Midwestern feel. She performs an eclectic blend of coffeehouse folk, veering away from both the down-home twang of the South and the chic angst of the city. Her lyrics shimmer with intelligence, delivered with a jazzy throatiness. \n"In the age of possibility, cheap gas, John Glenn and tube TV/ When Martin walked many miles to stand beside Gandhi," she croons in "When It's Gone It's Gone." "But faith was stoned with cans and rocks/ And the neighbor kid came home in a box/ Now we don't believe so much of everything we hear."\nThe words themselves are poetic, and Newcomer's rich alto infuses them with layers of meaning unseen in the linear notes. An iconoclasticact, she's too smart for mass consumption. And that's a pity. \nThe concert kicked off a promotional tour of her new album The Age of Possibility that will take her from California to Massachusetts. With an low-tempo acoustic feel, the record has a soft-spoken grace to it. \nBut Newcomer was playing for a packed house at the Buskirk and certainly knows how to work a crowd after 15 years in the business. With full accompaniment, she went great guns with a lively hour and a half set. She performed new songs such as "Tornado Alley" and older favorites like the soulful gospel tune "When One Door Opens." \nNewcomer was captivating, hitting all the right notes, though the show's sound production left something to be desired. While her vocals tend more to the self-effacing side, the words often couldn't be made out from the drone of the piano and percussion. Her skillful plucking of the acoustic guitar was similarly given short shrift.\nThe show was taped for an upcoming PBS documentary, which will splice live concert footage with interviews. Newcomer poked fun at the intrusive cameramen, offering to let them sing chorus for the last song.\nOpening solo act Vance Gilbert deserves some credit for the successful show. He left her with an audience whipped into a frenzy. His songs were in the spiritual vein, but he was very playful with their performance. And Gilbert interjected a healthy dose of vibrant humor in all his exchanges with the audience, first encouraging all the men to sing along with one of his songs, then all the women, then "everybody else." Met up with only the sound of his strumming, he explained that "it always works when I do it in Indianapolis"
(08/23/00 6:57am)
For New York Press columnist Jim Knipfel, the light has been slowly fading.\nHis strained retinas worsen with every passing day. Though he still holds down a job as the alternative weekly's receptionist and can periodically read a book or magazine article, Knipfel is already legally blind at the age of 36. He gets about with a red-tipped cane and wears a fedora with a wide brim to warn him if he's about to run into something. Blindness, total and all-encompassing, is only an inevitability at this point.\nYet when he is finally immersed in total darkness, he'll likely find himself comfortable.\nAll things considered, it wouldn't mark that much of a change. Knipfel, whose memoir "Quitting the Nairobi Trio" was recently published, has spent the better part of his life dwelling in the shadows.\nKnipfel is an embittered man, but he has every reason for it. Beyond the degenerative eye disorder, he suffers from an inoperable brain lesion, which gives him frequent "rage seizures" and heightens his anti-social impulses. Long plagued by the demons of the bottle, he has been through a failed marriage and several suicide attempts.\nAnd Knipfel has devoted his life to telling his story. His weekly column, which has earned him a loyal cult following, takes a darkly comic look at his daily tribulations. Like a sort of modern-day Nietzsche, Knipfel is maniacally self-obsessed. Yet the one-time philosophy student is far more earnest than his German predecessor, bearing his soul in weekly installments.\nAnd, as a reviewer for the Chicago Sun-Times aptly put it, "for a guy who's tried to kill himself several times, Knipfel sure is funny."\nA follow-up to "Slackjaw," which detailed his life story, "Nairobi Trio" recalls the time he spent in a psych ward in Minneapolis after he tried to off himself with scotch and sleeping pills. After the opening chapter, he wakes up to find himself tied down to a hospital bed, screaming out rhymes in German. His parents cautiously watch over him, and he's informed that he'll spend "the next few weeks" under psychiatric observation.\nAnd so he's taken down to the "Bin," as he affectionately puts it. When the nurse tells him it's six floors underground, he sardonically reminds himself the sixth level of hell is where the heretics dwell in Dante's "Inferno."\nThe literary allusion proves prophetic. His experience in the ward turns out to be a jumble of Kafkaesque absurdity and existential despair. "One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest" pales in comparison. In his first night, his roommate Joey slashes his wrists with a broken shard of glass from the mirror. The orderlies mopping up the blood from the bathroom floor insist that he mind his own business, and he awakens the next morning to find no trace of Joey.\n"When I woke up the next morning I take a look around. Any evidence of Joey's ever having been in that room had been erased. His bed was made, all his drawers had been cleaned out. There was nothing left. Just as well ' I didn't much care for the idea of having a roommate anyway.\n"I put some clothes on and headed out to the front desk. None of the other patients were up.\n"'This might be kind of awkward timing,' I said to the nurse behind the counter, 'but I need a shave ' do you suppose I could get my razor?'"\nIt is with this ironic detachment that Knipfel weathers the daily indignities and frustrations to which he's subjected in the ward. His fellow inmates are only randomly communicative at best, and his doctor won't deign to see him for more than 10 minutes a week. His parents seldom visit, and he is only allowed to venture into the sunshine once.\nWhile his doctor admits he steadily made progress from day one after his "psychotic break," he treats Knipfel only with cold suspicion, long refusing to approve a transfer.\nWhen Knipfel started out as a columnist for the now-defunct Philadelphia Welcomat, he was an angry young man who ranted against society with utter contempt. He urged his readers to burn down a recently opened Borders and came out in favor of Iraq during the Gulf War because "Saddam (Hussein) is the rare world leader with two balls to scratch."\nHe has mellowed out since his early days, in part because the steadily encroaching blindness prevents him from drinking. "Quitting the Nairobi Trio" is the work of a mature writer, comfortable with his craft.\nKnipfel has always had a natural knack for story-telling, expanding personal anecdotes into full-fledged columns. His books also have that fluent narrative flow, but he pains himself more on polishing his prose than slinging arrows.\nNonetheless, the thematic content is largely the same. "Quitting the Nairobi Trio" ends on a note of grudging self acceptance. After being released from the ward, Knipfel realizes that letting all the petty frustrations of day-to-day life eat into him serves no purpose. His revelation is one of the necessity of stoicism, calmly withstanding the breaking waves.\nKnipfel's been through a lot, and his message carries all the more weight.
(08/23/00 5:45am)
Americans have many proud traditions, such as scratching your crotch and knocking back a few cold ones while watching a Sunday football game.\nBut two of the proudest American traditions are democracy and capitalism.\nIf you think about it, the development should have been inevitable. But people only put the two together recently.\n A Maryland voter recently tried to hawk his vote on eBay, and a doctoral student created a Web site, www.voteauction.com, that allows you to sell your vote online.\nBoth were cynical critiques of the system. Both ran afoul of the law. The Maryland man was almost thrown into prison, and eBay had to withdraw his offer. The doctoral student ended up taking his site down by court order. \nThe news has disturbed some. After all, the franchise to vote is one of the most sacred liberties we have.\nThat's precisely why one should be able to get some cold, hard cash from it.\nVoters today are about as disillusioned as senior citizens invariably become after receiving mail from Ed McMahon. And rightly so, some would say.\nJust look at the choice of presidential candidates that American people have this year. Vice President Al Gore acts as though he were assembled in a factory somewhere. Texas Gov. George W. Bush seems unable to decide whether to campaign like Ronald Reagan or Bill Clinton, coming off like a snake oil salesman in the process.\nGore has written that the internal combustion engine ought to be abolished. And after having listened to his convention speech, I would say the man has a tin ear. But, honestly, I wouldn't want to offend the mass-processed can community.\nMore people have been executed in Texas under Bush than by some Third World dictators. And he is probably the first presidential candidate to run solely on a platform of no sex with chubby interns. Sure, he dresses it up by saying he'll restore honor and dignity to the White House. But he might as well say, "I solemnly swear to the American people that there will be no kinky action going on in my administration."\nAnd both parties have essentially fielded aristocrats. Gore sat on President Nixon's lap before the wee lad even went through puberty. And Bush got into Yale in spite of being a drunken wastrel.\nHarry Truman grew up on the family farm and sold men's clothes before he got into politics. One guesses those days are long gone, as quaint as Windows 98 and videocassettes.\nBush and Gore are about as inspiring as waking up with a blistering hangover to find that your nose is bloodied and a tooth is loose. So-called "raging moderates," they don't really have any convictions, other than the latest public opinion poll.\nGore wants you to believe he'll fight for working families. Of course, he's been a Washington bureaucrat his entire life. To be fair, I suppose he might have grounds for empathy with blue-collar folks. Taking poll numbers into account, he'll have to work like hell to win this election.\nBush tells us he's a reformer ' a reformer with a purpose, no less, though I have yet to hear him explain what exactly that mysterious purpose is. He's an embodiment of the WASP establishment if ever there was one. And his advisers ' holdovers from daddy's administration ' look like a White House in exile.\nWith such slim pickings, selling your vote looks very promising, very promising indeed.\nHey, it's a little extra beer money.\nEditor's Note: The opinions expressed in this column are not necessarily those of its author.
(08/23/00 5:36am)
WIUS, the Alternative AM 1570, has long planned to make the jump to FM.\nAnd what has long been a distant dream for the student-run station may soon become reality.\nThe Federal Communications Commission recently launched an initiative that offers low-power FM access to local non-commercial stations. During an application period in July, WIUS filed a request for one of the three low-power FM licenses available in the Bloomington area.\n"We are beginning a process that offers access to the airwaves to local nonprofit groups," said FCC chairman William Kennard in an issued statement. "This is all about bringing new voices to the airwaves." \nThe license would allow WIUS to broadcast at 100 watts, which would extend its signal range to about 3.6 miles. By contrast, the University-run National Public Radio-affiliate WFIU broadcasts at 34,000 watts. \n"We see this leading to increased listenership," said WIUS station manager Cody Leitholt. "We've had that somewhat with RealAudio, but not like this. We can reach out beyond the campus, to the general community."\nWIUS started out as an Associated Press carrier-current station in Wright Quad in 1963. After receiving student activities fees, it hit the AM airwaves in 1994. But its signal ' at 3.7 watts ' only reaches across the campus.\nLeitholt said WIUS would be ready to make the transition to FM within 18 months, because IU Student Assocation approved funding for the necessary broadcasting equipment about a half decade ago.\n"We've already got the basic timetable worked out," he said. "And we're ready to go. We'd basically continue with the broadcasting we have, though we'd have to polish it up a bit."\nWIUS is applying for the 100.4 FM slot, against competition from the Bloomington Cultural and Community Radio Corp. The Church of the Good Shepherd and Center for Sustainable Living are vying for the 98.7 slot, and the Monroe County Public Library is the lone applicant for the 97.5 FM slot.\nBut Leitholt said he isn't worried about local competition. He said his only fear is opposition to FCC initiative by commercial broadcasters.\n"The broadcasters aren't very happy with this," he said. "They could lobby to kill the whole thing in Congress."\nBob Ford, president of the Indiana Broadcasters Association, said the FCC didn't adequately research signal interference before moving ahead with the plan.\n"The FCC has changed the interference rules and by doing that, they will create interference with current commercial broadcasters," he said.\nBut Leitholt said he entertains a tempered optimism.\n"It's hard to say what will happen until it actually happens," he said. "And, even if we get a license it wouldn't be a revolution. I'd say it would just be a change for the better ' it would open us up to more people."\nThe Associated Press contributed to this report.
(08/23/00 5:31am)
English professor Murray Sperber, a vocal critic of coach Bob Knight, doesn't want to teach when the team takes to the court. \nHe said this to College of Arts and Sciences Dean Kumble Subbaswamy, who has extended Sperber's leave of absence up through the spring semester.\n"IU faculty take their teaching obligations very seriously and do not casually request to be excused from their classroom teaching duties," Subbaswamy said. "I believe this action signals strongly both IU's commitment to freedom of speech and Professor Sperber's dedication to teaching and his students."\nSperber, who has written extensively on college sports, was granted an unpaid leave of absence for the fall semester in June after he received threats from ardent Knight supporters. He told police he had received many angry phone messages, such as "if you don't shut up, you will be shut up."\nA seven-week investigation by the board of trustees resulted in the suspension and fining of Knight, who has also been placed under a zero-tolerance policy. The trustees found a "29-year pattern of inappropriate conduct" that included physical and verbal aggression against players and University employees.\nCNN/SI interviewed Sperber for its hour-long May expose, which featured a tape of Knight striking former player Neil Reed. After the program aired, Sperber was thrust into the national spotlight. The media frequently quoted him, and he appeared as a source in articles in the New York Times and Sports Illustrated.\nSperber argued that Knight, who teaches a course about coaching basketball, violated his professional obligations as a faculty member. The University has long had a code of conduct for faculty, and Sperber formerly served on the Bloomington Faculty Council, which helped formulate disciplinary procedures.\nAfter the University granted him a leave of absence, Sperber temporarily took up residence in Montreal.\n"We offered to do everything in our power to help protect Professor Sperber's freedom to teach his classes," Subbaswamy said. "But he chose to be away from the Bloomington campus for the fall semester. We readily accommodated his request."\nSperber will be paid half his salary for the spring semester, during which he will stay in Bloomington. Sperber said he wants to devote time to work on his fourth book in the hope that passions cool off.\n"If Knight keeps his act together through next season and does not cross the zero-tolerance line," he said in an e-mail, "then the media attention to his case will die down, and I and everyone else at IU can return to normal life."\nPresident Myles Brand said in a press release that he backs the decision.\n"IU staunchly upholds the freedom of its faculty and students to express their professional opinions, controversial or otherwise," he said. "It is deplorable that irresponsible individuals have threatened the academic freedom we all require to conduct the work of the University."\nBrand earlier came under fire for his handling of the situation. In mid-July, 165 faculty members sent an open letter to Brand calling Brand's support of Sperber "casual."\nJ.T. Forbes, assistant vice president for public affairs and government relations, denied the extended leave of absence is a public relations move.\n"To my understanding, there's no connection," he said. "But we'd still like to make the record abundantly clear that the University has always been firmly behind Sperber."\nThe University also gave Sperber a $5,000 research grant for the fall semester.