Hess’ logic leads to the taking of single parents’ children
In response to Abram Hess’ article “Fathers and mothers” (Feb. 1):
In response to Abram Hess’ article “Fathers and mothers” (Feb. 1):
It's new, but it's not really new. Alkaline Trio, The Misfits of my generation of punk rock, have compiled a good deal of their B-sides and a few live ones in one affordable, convenient package. I was hoping for a brand new album, but this is the next best thing I suppose. The compilation album is made up of 19 B-sides and three live cuts. You also get a DVD for no extra charge, their first since the live set at the Metro they put out a few years ago.
The year 2006 was an interesting one for director Steven Soderbergh's filmmaking experiments. Last January saw the release of "Bubble," Soderbergh's indie gem that spanned multiple release formats yet still went relatively unnoticed. In December, Soderbergh unveiled "The Good German," his throwback to old noirs of the 1940s using only equipment available at that time in history. "German," based on the World War II thriller from novelist Joseph Kanon, takes Soderbergh favorite George Clooney as Jake Geismer and sends him to the Potsdam conference as a military journalist covering the meeting of the "Big Three" after Germany's fall. Driven around the ashes of Berlin by Tully (Tobey Maguire, who should stick to playing Spider-Man and not attempting to speak German), Geismer stumbles upon America's plot to transport ex-Nazi scientists out of Germany to begin building bombs for the forthcoming Cold War with Russia; all the while Lena Brandt (Cate Blanchett), the wife of one of the dead scientists, wants to escape the rubble of her homeland.
Want the review in brief? Bloc Party's A Weekend In The City is a clear-cut example of the "ambitious second album" -- both in its failings and its successes. Access to greater studio resources has resulted in a grander, more sophisticated sound … along with some fussiness and a diluting of the raw electricity seen in the band's 2005 debut, Silent Alarm. Meanwhile, frontman Kele Okereke's painfully sincere lyrics address every concern he has ever had -- oftentimes with vibrant imagery and sharp phrasing, but occasionally dropping a groan-worthy clunker. There are moments that hew a little too close to Silent Alarm, and others that point to a blazingly bright future -- in short, it's not perfect, but promising.
The Pacific Northwest has been a hotbed of musical activity over the previous decades. One of the latest bands from the area to generate some attention is Seattle's own Central Services. Typically, it's best to remain skeptical of the buzz buildup around a band, but Central Services is actually deserving of the hype.
Take equal parts "The Sixth Sense" and "The Birds." Add in "The Shining" and garnish with Grant Wood's painting "American Gothic," and you have yourself a tasty horror cocktail called "The Messengers." "The Messengers" opens with the Solomon family moving from Chicago to North Dakota to begin new lives as sunflower farmers. There's the obligatory teen female lead Jess (Kristen Stewart), the overly optimistic father Roy (Dylan McDermott), the doubting mother Denise (Penelope Ann Miller) and the mute little brother Ben.
Jigsaw is back, and he is up to the same old games. The third installment is bigger and gorier than ever before. It seems to serve as the huge finale to the series, or so we hope. While the first movie was not exactly perfect, it still brought a new element to the horror genre that was a fresh breath of air: making death a game. This novel idea only really lasts so long though. As the series progresses, the traps and twists just get more ridiculous.
The Feminist Majority Leadership Alliance was right in noting that Roe v. Wade is a reminder of several dangerous practices (“Roe v. Wade anniversary reminds of the dangers of illegal abortion,” Feb. 1).
I read an opinion piece by Abram Hess, “Fathers and mothers” (Feb. 1).
As I eagerly looked online at the list of nominees for the 49th annual Grammy Awards this Sunday, I was shocked to see that my name wasn't on the list. I'm so tired of being snubbed by the Recording Academy. Sure, I'm not a recording artist, per se. I've never released an album. I've never even performed karaoke. But if the Black Eyed Peas can get a Grammy nomination for "My Humps," why can't I? I never expected to actually win a Grammy. I'm not that naive. But it could at least throw me a nomination as a gesture of its respect for my work. I didn't ask to be nominated for song of the year. But the academy could've at least nominated me for best new age album or maybe best polka album. If you're like me, you weren't
Many things come to mind upon utterance of the word Sweden. Perhaps you think of the country nestled next to Norway, its rolling hillsides or even the country's trouble-free yellow and blue flag gently blowing in the breeze while its national anthem, "Du gamla, du fria," plays gives you a sense of Swedish nationalistic pride. Or, if you're like me, you think of the recent surge of great Swedish indie artists. While time can be well-spent listening to the likes of other Swede-rock stars such as Lonely Dear, El Perro Del Mar, The Knife, José González or even Jens Lekman, three names have arguably been dropped more than any others when talking about Swedish indie-rock. Those names are Peter, Bjorn and John.
I applaud Thomas Wachtel (“Talk English; you’re in America,” Feb. 1) for pointing out that many Americans are in a poor position to criticize immigrants for speaking foreign languages when they themselves too often “butcher their native tongue.”
Next to Akira Kurosawa and Martin Scorsese, Federico Fellini ranks high on my list of great filmmakers who rarely disappoint me. Fellini's vast body of work only had two strikes from me in the past, "Il Bidone" and "Fellini's Casanova," and after hearing so much about "Ginger & Fred," I expected greatness. Unfortunately, the film wound up being strike No. 3. Strike No. 3 doesn't mean Fellini is out of my respected pantheon, but "G&F" is missing that wonderful charm that can only be found in a Fellini movie.
On Thursday evening (Feb. 1), I participated in IU’s first drag king competition.
Trying to add something new to all the reviews of "Bicycle Thieves" (or "The Bicycle Thief" depending on who you're talking to) since its release in 1948 is probably one of the most intimidating things you could ask a critic. What more can really be said about one of the greatest films ever made? All I can say is upon first viewing some five years ago is that it left me in tears.
I am a college student, and I stumbled across a new Facebook group touting that Abram Hess’s column (“Fathers and mothers,” Feb. 1) as “hate speech.”
Before hitting play on Harry Connick, Jr.'s latest album, Oh, My Nola, I solemnly swore that I wouldn't go easy on him just because it was a tribute to his hometown of New Orleans. No, I don't feel pity -- I'm a critic. Fortunately for my sake -- and the sake of my editors who, I suspect, did not want to field hate-mail from Louisiana -- it's quite good.
Jacob Stewart wrote, “The apparent hatred between those of different races, those who hold different sexual preferences and those with varying political viewpoints is quite disturbing” (“The pursuit of happiness,” Feb. 5).
Abram Hess’ views on the alleged unfitness of gays to adopt and raise children (“Fathers and mothers,” Feb. 1) are spectacularly uninformed and prejudiced.
Though Bloomington is famous for its restaurants, culture and entertainment, students often overlook another form of its nightlife -- dancing. Lessons are available in everything from ballroom to country line dancing, and with Valentine's Day just around the corner, they're a great way to have fun with a current partner or find a new one. Arthur Murray dance studio, located off Third Street near Borders Bookstore, offers lessons in 18 different styles of ballroom dancing, including smooth dances like the fox-trot and tango, rhythm dances like the salsa, rumba and cha-cha and the popular swing dance, said Barbara Leininger, owner of the Bloomington Arthur Murray dance studio.