Spies and Lovers

February 28-March 6, 2007

A true dictatorship cuckolds every man and whores every woman. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s brilliant The Lives of Others memorializes the excesses of East Germany in 1984, but on an intimate, nonmonumental scale. Aspects of this film are almost a farce with the comedy missing.

An actress, desired by three men, is the cause of all action. She is Christa-Maria (Martina Gedeck), a popular onstage figure. Her ice-blue eye shadow is the only mark of color in one of those fetchingly weary German faces the screen gives us from time to time, like the face of Dietrich or Hildegard Neff. Her lover, Georg (Sebastian Koch), is a gentle, apolitical playwright and poet, considered safe by the GDR government–“our only nonsubversive writer.”

Though he has dubious friends, such as a blacklisted theater director, Georg is considered above suspicion. The East German state minister Hempf (the J. T. Walsh look-alike Thomas Thieme) believes that Georg has something to hide and orders the bugging of the playwright’s flat. The officer tapped for the job is the sure-of-himself Capt. Wiesler (Ulrich M¸he), who has been entranced with Christa-Marie since the first time he saw her in a play.

As Wiesler listens in on the couple from a secret room in the attic of their building, something of Georg’s creativity seems to grow in him. In an odd sense, the secret policeman becomes a writer, too, as he rephrases the two artists’ daily life, editing it and recording it on his typewriter. Georg has a significant line: There must be some music, such as Beethoven, that would make a person good just by listening to it. Monitoring these two lives awakes some dormant compassion in Wiesler.

Christa-Marie is a wreck. She takes illegal pills, possibly to deal with the guilt of her forced liaisons with Minister Hempf himself. It is likely that “Operation Lazlo,” the grandiose title of this sordid surveillance duty, is really meant to discredit Georg as Hempf’s rival. Realizing this duplicity, Wiesler begins to sabotage his reports. Eventually, he tries to be a good angel to the couple, with calamitous results.

I would add that Henckel von Donnersmarck’s superb depiction of the bunkerlike halls and snot-green colors of the Berlin bureaucratic offices is more than just anti-communist horse beating. In the coda, Hempf becomes a devil’s advocate, claiming that the old communist republic gave you something to push against, something to fight for. In the West, there was a certain happiness in living in a time before “history ended,” to use one too-ebullient phrase about the raising of the Iron Curtain. It was the happiness of knowing there was an alternative. Once this communist alternative was understood as state capitalism patrolled by vast armies of squealers and secret policemen, the only role left for the rest of the world was to become happy consumers–pieces of krill in the food chain.

The Lives of Others isn’t specifically about the nature of communism; it’s about the nature of an intelligence state, about the supreme overconfidence that bungles its job and sows the very enemies it tries to contain. The film shows us how a culture of surveillance perpetuates itself, something that America is starting to learn about. Thus, The Lives of Others is not just a crafty, thinking-person’s thriller worthy of Fritz Lang or a grim anti-comedy worthy of Billy Wilder. It is also a warning of the future that is already underway.

‘The Lives of Others’ opens on Friday, March 2, at the Rialto Lakeside Cinemas, 551 Summerfield Road, Santa Rosa. 707.525.4840.


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Second Listen

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February 28-March 6, 2006

The factors that form things we come to know as masterworks are often pretty arbitrary; happenstance can be the one thin line between artistic immortality and dust-covered obscurity. Of course, this obscurity is what keeps record labels in business. The more obscure the tracks are that surface, the more creative and revealing reissues and box sets can be. When they’re good, they’re the stuff that every crate-digger and pop-music sleuth lives for.

Dusty Springfield: Complete A and B Sides 1963-1970 is on Eclipse, the label founded by Bob Stanley and Pete Wiggs of British indie dance band Saint Etienne. Though dozens of collections out there competently survey Dusty’s career, Complete A and B Sides presents lesser-known recordings from her heyday alongside her hits. In this refreshing context, the material is on a level playing field, allowing B-side gems to shine equally bright and proving there’s a lot more to Dusty Springfield than what we know from movie soundtracks and oldies radio.

Dusty was a singer of high drama through and through. She didn’t save her emotional onslaught just for her prime material, infusing every song with an emotional commitment that’s palpable in tracks like the Bacharach-esque “Summer Is Over,” in which her vocals masterfully convey the utter loss of control a broken relationship delivers. In the much more upbeat Goffin-King “I’ll Love You for a While,” she swings effortlessly, while “Earthbound Gypsy” shows us the jazzy side of Dusty, who sings so naturally with a small combo that it momentarily seems ridiculous that she found fame as a pop singer. Her assuredness carried her through every genre, making her recordings first and foremost Dusty Springfield songs; everything else was secondary.

Ruthann Friedman was a contemporary of Dusty Springfield, but while many of Springfield’s songs are rife with symphonic bombast, Friedman’s are the cozy, impressionistic reflections of a vagabond. Water Records’ Hurried Life: Lost Recordings 1965-1970 reveals to us not only Friedman’s confident, easygoing songwriting, but her warm and honest delivery.

Friedman is best known as the composer of the Association’s biggest hit, the infectiously buoyant “Windy.” Though a long-standing urban myth established her as a teenybopper fan of the Association, in truth Friedman was their colleague, a fellow hippie happily caught in the whirlwind of mind-blowing drugs and creativity that flared up in canyon bungalows across L.A. in the late 1960s. Friedman grew up in the Bronx and came to California during what she calls the “great hippie migration” to pal around with Van Dyke Parks, live in David Crosby’s spare room and get high on nitrous oxide with Ken Kesey. In 1969, she released her only album, Constant Companion.

Hurried Life exists in part due to the surge of interest in obscure artists of the ’60s that present-day folk-fringe darlings like Devendra Banhart have cited as influences. The songs and liner notes of Hurried Life present us with a true free spirit; Friedman was the essence of the era in her lifestyle and art. Most of the songs on the album are home-recorded demos, intimate and small by nature.

Friedman’s version of “Windy” is a revelation; while the Association’s classic is all sunny Baroque frippery, Friedman’s is affably straightforward and casual–as if she herself were this mysterious, floating and whooshing Windy. But Friedman’s Windy is a he, not a she, and it’s fun to re-imagine Windy as a blissed-out slacker dreamboat of a man walking down the streets of the city.

Thinking about these great songs sitting around in Ruthann Friedman’s attic or basement for decades is both amazing and scary: it delivers a promise that, yes, there must be more great stuff out there, songs by musicians we have and have not heard of. But with that knowledge also comes the sting that much of it will remain rotting in storage, while a steady stream of the latest disposable mediocrity will rocket to the sky only to burn out in mere moments. Perhaps ultimately, greatness has nothing to do with what’s forgotten or remembered, but what one person gets around to appreciating.


The Byrne Report

February 28-March 6, 2007

I was not surprised that the San Francisco Chronicle‘s “ace” investigative reporters, Lance Williams and Mark Fainaru-Wada, allowed themselves to be manipulated by a sleazy defense attorney in the BALCO case. After all, the only people with motive and opportunity to leak secret federal grand jury transcripts to Williams and Fainaru-Wada were the BALCO defendants or their lawyers. After the reporters wrote a series of stories quoting the illegally viewed transcripts, attorney Troy Ellerman filed a motion to dismiss charges against his BALCO clients, arguing that press disclosures made a fair trial impossible. In a violation of journalistic ethics, Williams and Fainaru-Wade continued to access the transcripts in Ellerman’s office even after it was clear that the attorney was using them to subvert the legal system.

For their efforts, the reporters won professional accolades, including a Polk Award. They penned a book trashing Barry Bonds, who is not formally accused of committing a crime. After the feds told the Chronicle and its reporters to give up the source of their illegally obtained grand jury information, they refused, citing First Amendment rights and the tradition of protecting anonymous sources. The journalistic profession almost universally united behind the BALCO Two, portraying them as principled and courageous individuals. Now, Ellerman is expected to be sentenced to two years in prison for undermining the grand jury system–and the reporters are off the hook.

There are so many things wrong with the argument that Williams and Fainaru-Wada and the Hearst Corporation are “heroes” for defying the government that it is hard to know where to begin in deflating this nonsense.

The practice of using confidential grand juries to investigate whether or not it is worthwhile to issue a criminal indictment made it to the American colonies from England, where it had been around in various forms since the 13th century. Grand jury deliberations are often used by unscrupulous prosecutors to obtain indictments for political reasons or when the “target” is clearly innocent but socially vulnerable. Because the target of a grand jury investigation is not allowed the benefit of counsel in the proceedings, and because exculpatory evidence is not required to be given to the grand jurors, the system is badly in need of reform or liquidation. Nonetheless, secrecy does protect witnesses from being preventatively coerced or murdered. It also protects targets from having their reputations and livelihoods destroyed by the publication of false testimony.

After accepting what amounts to stolen goods from Ellerman, Williams and Fainaru-Wada wrote article after article suggesting that Bonds criminally used steroids and committed perjury before the BALCO grand jury. While those may be true statements, they are not proven statements. Grand jury testimony can be hearsay; it is not subject to cross examination or factual verification; and it can be stocked with lies and finger-pointing. But without selective excerpts from grand jury testimony, the Chronicle had no story and the reporters had no book deal. Worse, Bonds and others who testified to the grand jury did so with the understanding that their testimony would remain confidential. They have no way of defending themselves against defamatory innuendo based on partial grand jury testimony made available by a defense attorney who, under the very eyes of the Chronicle reporters, committed a felony by declaring under oath that he was not the source of the transcripts.

There is no guarantee of the “right” of reporters to protect sources in American jurisprudence, nor should there be. Reporters with access to high-level officials often trade anonymity for the privilege of publicizing official lies, such as that Iraq had nuclear weapons and so on. That Judith Miller, the Scooter Libby mouthpiece, went to jail to protect such a Machiavellian bureaucrat is crazy-making. It perverts the sensible rule that, ethically, the duty of a journalist, as Joseph Pulitzer remarked, is to “afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted.”

Personally, I have never granted a source anonymity, but I do not rely upon government officials to feed me stories. I might go to jail to protect a source who could be seriously harmed by going on the record with information of real public interest, such as the top secret Pentagon Papers. But when Daniel Ellsberg brought his stolen goods to the New York Times in 1971, he did not require anonymity. Sources who require anonymity usually have hidden agendas that are contrary to the public interest. Witness Plamegate and BALCO. In these instances, career-minded reporters eagerly allowed themselves to be used as pawns by sleazoids, regardless of the consequences. Miller helped her neoconservative sponsors initiate an unjust war that has killed untold numbers of civilians. Williams, Fainaru-Wada and their editors profitably lynched Barry Bonds with a rope woven of innuendo and perjury.

These are shameful, not courageous, acts.

or


Finding Themselves

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February 21-27, 2007

Item number eight in the 12 steps to a better understanding of the band Dropping Daylight reads, and I quote, “They played with Papa Roach and Jason Mraz a couple days apart and emerged from the week confused about their place in this world.”

That about sums it up.

This Midwest sensation has played hundreds of shows from small clubs to the outdoor arenas of last years’ Vans Warped Tour and still remain unsure as to their personality.

Formed by two brothers, Sebastian and Seth Davin, and their high school chums, Dropping Daylight was originally named Sue Generis, a play on the Latin phrase meaning “without equals.” Their piano-based guitar rock seemed a little less than the named inferred, so a more appropriate title, Dropping Daylight, was adopted when the boys signed to Octone Records. They toured with a range of bands like Motion City Soundtrack, Say Anything and Breaking Benjamin still without a concrete understanding, so they made a record.

Their debut full length album, Brace Yourself, released last summer after two EPs, is stuffed with anthems and power chords set behind Sebastian Davin’s classically trained piano and smooth vocals. Brace Yourself is a catchy and addictive pop record with solid songs throughout. They drive harder than label mates Maroon 5 but are sometimes compared with a hardcore Ben Folds. As it is, Dropping Daylight have been struggling to identify themselves separately from other post hardcore projects that have recently been wearing a thin welcome. The combination of piano ballads underneath the forceful angry lyrics concerning our political leaders and their girlfriends, Dropping Daylight have been tugging at the heartstrings of pre teens everywhere. It’s too bad their Feb. 23 show at the Last Day Saloon is 21 and over only.

Their spot on the national SnoCore tour with Army of Anyone gives them a one-day break to play Santa Rosa’s Last Day Saloon as a warmup for Slim’s the following day. Anyone wanting to feel the high school vibe once again is welcome to rock along.

Dropping Daylight appears on Friday, Feb. 23, at the Last Day Saloon. Burden Brothers open. 120 Fifth St., Santa Rosa. 9pm. $5-$7. 707.545.2343.


Fear of Food

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February 21-27, 2007

I once worked at a sausage cart in the park of an affluent city neighborhood. After my first day, I walked over to the alcoholic homeless men who hung out on the park’s benches to offer them a bag of baguettes we had left over. “No thanks, honey,” said one of the lounging bums. “Outside of white sugar, white flour is the worst thing for you.” His friend on a nearby bench nodded in grave agreement.

Coming from someone who was slowly but surely drinking himself into oblivion, that’s quite a bold statement. I admired the resolve of the homeless men, but their execution of a well-balanced diet was deeply flawed; their meals were mostly liquid, and vodka, their liquid of choice, provides little in the way of vitamins, fiber or minerals.

Many of us make similar, if less severe, dietary choices every day. We recognize what is good for us, but fail to implement it in our lifestyle. Are we stupid, lazy, greedy? Partly. But mostly we’re afraid. Our dysfunctional industrial food chain both numbs and overwhelms us, especially when we take in conflicting claims from splashy snack-food advertisements (eating poorly is fun!), health-nut magazine articles (eating poorly is fatal!) and confusing government recommendations (eating well is complicated!). We’re afraid of food, and it’s our fault.

Last month, the Center for Science in the Public Interest’s Nutrition Action! newsletter issued a list called “Ten Foods You Should Never Eat!” The list zeroed in on such naughty goodies as Mrs. Fields milk chocolate and walnut cookies, chipotle chicken burritos and Dove ice cream. Mrs. Fields was attacked for having “six teaspoons of sugar per cookie.” Interesting.

A 12-ounce can of Coca-Cola has the equivalent of about 10 teaspoons of sugar, but Coke’s not on the list. In fact, dozens of foods could easily be on the CSPI’s list; every grocery store crawls with them, lurking in the snack aisle and under the fry-buffet heat lamps at the deli.

Ultimately, pointing out ultra-specific “danger foods” accomplishes little except to prove how our society responds to easy shocks and fast payoffs. The CSPI’s list is the sort of thing someone e-mails to co-workers or talks about with friends over a Saturday-night plate of riblets at Applebee’s. “Did you know that Pepperidge Farm Original Flaky Crust roasted chicken pot pie is the worst thing you can eat?” It makes great gossip, and it’s a quick way to feel like you make fine nutritional choices simply because there’s not a box of Pepperidge Farm chicken pot pie in your freezer at home.

But we don’t like to hear it, perhaps because the good news about food is not very flashy. The CSPI’s alternatives to the 10 worst foods are mostly whole foods, like citrus, wild salmon and sweet potatoes; it’s like comparing apples to oranges, or, rather, Frito Lay’s light potato chips to oranges. You can’t say “Don’t eat potato chips, eat roasted butternut squash instead,” even though roasted butternut squash is delicious. Snack cravings don’t work that way. Cravings are about crunchy, salty, sweet–now!

Junk food tastes good sometimes. It’s the edible equivalent of American Idol and Gwen Stefani songs. Despite what billions of dollars of advertising and prominent displays at grocery stores tell you, that’s what we need to understand junk food is for–for sometimes, not all of the time. The occasional McDonald’s won’t kill you; lots of McDonald’s kills you.

Actually, it’s the choice to eat lots of fast food that kills us. And we are the ones who make that choice. For all of the blaming going on, there’s one person who is in charge of what goes into your mouth: you.

So where did we go wrong? In his much-discussed Jan. 28 New York Times Magazine article “Unhappy Meals,” Michael Pollan points to what he calls “nutritionism,” the system of scientists researching the impact of an isolated nutritional component and the press pouncing on the findings to get a story. Pollan argues that because nutrients don’t exist in a vacuum–they exist in food, and therefore are part of our larger, very complex lifestyle–such studies are inherently flawed and can misdirect our choices. A study concludes to eat less fat, so we cut down on fat; a study says to eat more omega fatty acids, so we drink flaxseed oil; a study says that flaxseed oil supplements can actually harm us, so we dump out our flaxseed oil.

What Pollan does not say is that we’re the ones dumb enough to believe every AP article and every investigative report on 20/20. When did we lose the ability to think for ourselves? When we got scared. By pointing out the dangers in food, we don’t create logic; we create confusion and fear. We know that heavily processed food is bad for us, because we can see the results with our own eyes, but we still eat it, because facing our fear of food is too daunting.

Instead of thinking about food as medicine or poison–something we are rewarded or punished for eating–we need to think of it as food. Food that comes from plants and animals, not factories and drive-throughs and laboratories.

And that’s where one group, who are sadly not in control of what they put in their bodies, comes in: kids. Parents and schools feed kids, and many of them do it badly. Kids love junk food, especially when so much of it is designed to appeal to them. Kids are too young to be accountable for all of the decisions they make, but they are old enough to be taught how to eat. That education used to happen from living life, from helping to prepare meals and sitting down with the family to share them; it was intrinsic knowledge. Now it’s not–food is an entertainment choice, a way to kill time, a thing that takes too long to make from scratch–and they’ve learned that from us.

We need to compromise, and there’s not much of that going on. Big Brother does not compromise. Two major cities–New York and Philadelphia–have banned trans fats. The intent to protect citizens is noble, but will it accomplish anything? Maybe the solution is to stress eating well, not to simply remove one of the things that make people unwell.

Small pockets of activists are doing just that, empowering people with knowledge and decision-making skills. Food Not Bombs feeds vegetarian meals to homeless people (hope they’re skipping the white flour); farmers markets are going up in blighted urban areas without local access to grocery stores; and programs like Alice Waters’ Edible Schoolyard, which teaches kids where food comes from because they grow it themselves, are blooming. It’s not much, but it’s something.

Of course, to look at it from a strictly pragmatic perspective, regulating what people can and cannot eat could save our country tons of money. All of this type II diabetes and heart disease is expensive, and we fat taxpayers wind up footing some of the bill. It’s an extreme measure for a situation that, every day, is more extreme itself.

Americans love to blame other people for things. We’re fat, and it’s the fault of agribusiness or fast food or the government or my family who never taught me to eat right. People grow up and become adults and make their own choices. The tools to eat well are there for them. Are we really that stubborn and ignorant? I guess so.

I’m not afraid of food. It won’t kill me; it keeps me alive, because I eat to live and not vice versa. Every time that we polarize the role of food in our lives, we further tear apart the natural order of things. To end the cycle, we need to give fear the middle finger and eat like human beings. The first step is to think for our own bodies, our own selves.

Quick dining snapshots by Bohemian staffers.

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Food-related comings and goings, openings and closings, and other essays for those who love the kitchen and what it produces.

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Goodbye, Mr. Chip

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music & nightlife |

By Bruce Robinson

I first met Chip Dunbar at my wedding; he was in the band, of course. But as our paths intersected from time to time over the subsequent years–around town, at concerts where he was onstage or a fellow audience member, and even traveling together for a day at MacWorld in San Francisco–I became one of the countless folks whose lives he brightened.

Yes, Chip touched a lot of people, and not just with his music. The local master of the mandolin–and linchpin of a series of highly regarded local acoustic ensembles including the Eclecti-Cats, HiJinks and Terra Nova–was also known in separate but overlapping circles as an inspiring teacher, a knowledgeable guru and impassioned advocate for the Mac and an enthusiastic full-court basketball player.

Chip died abruptly and unexpectedly while walking near his Sebastopol home on Nov. 26, apparently from a persistent heart condition. An informal memorial on Dec. 2 drew far more friends than the Sebastopol Community Center Annex could hold, and featured the first public performance of the Mighty Chiplings, a group of his young students who did their teacher proud.

The youthful Chiplings are just part of the roster of local talent who will celebrate Dunbar’s life and musical legacy in a memorial concert on Saturday, Feb. 24, at the New College in Santa Rosa. They will be joined by a long list of Chip’s musical associates, including the Ruminators, Solid Air, Don Coffin, Ted Dutcher and Ellen Silver, Modern Hicks, Caren Armstrong, Kevin Russell and the Elder Chiplings. Chip’s wife and longtime musical compatriot (she played at the wedding, too) Sara Winge will also perform. Chip is shown above, far left, with Russell and Dutcher.

“He leaves behind a musical legacy matched only by the great Jim Bozzio or the amazing Kate Wolf,” says Russell, who most recently played with Dunbar in Under the Radar. “Chip was a brilliant sound engineer, songwriter and band leader; an enormously important figure in the Sonoma County music scene and a virtuoso human being.”

He is, and will continue to be, missed.

An Evening of Music Honoring Chip Dunbar is scheduled for Saturday, Feb. 24, at the New College. 99 Sixth St., Santa Rosa. 8pm. $10 donation. 707.824.1858.




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Art School Confidential

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Reeding & riting: Among complaints of racism and copyright infringement, AI officials decried the terrible grammar of the school mag.

By Brett Ascarelli

Until recently, Robert Ovetz, Ph.D., held two jobs. He worked as an environmental advocate for the Sea Turtle Restoration Project in Marin and he taught environmental science, world conflict and cultural studies as an adjunct instructor at the Art Institute of California San Francisco (AI), a school for the commercial arts. His scholarship in sea turtles dovetailed with the school’s Eco Club, so he served as its faculty adviser for two years. During that time, he says that the Eco Club got new bike racks installed in front of the school, had the bookstore bring in a sandwich vendor where before there had been only vending machines and vastly expanded the school’s recycling program. In the spring of last year, the school gave him his second positive review and pay raise. But he says that in December, school officials told him that they wouldn’t return him to the classroom for the following quarter. Ovetz, 40, thinks he was fired because he criticized the school’s decision to censor a magazine, Mute/Off, that students in his cultural studies class published as an assignment last quarter.

Hoping to give students a broader perspective on media-making, Ovetz explains the magazine assignment by phone from his Mill Valley home. “The students could pick whatever topics they wanted, as long as they were related to cultural studies. I left everything up to them–how it would be designed, promoted and produced. I just played a role as the facilitator.” The assignment also required wide distribution of the magazine to the AI community.

The students decided to write about film and society, video games, green living and the impact of consumerism on children and fashion. Toward the end of the quarter, they distributed some 500 copies of Mute/Off around the school. But the next day, Ovetz found only five copies of the magazine after searching the campus.

“The students were unanimous and thought the magazine had essentially been censored,” says Ovetz, adding someone had reportedly removed a copy of the magazine from the hands of a student who was in the middle of reading it. Ovetz claims that the school has a history of censoring student art, from a sculpture of an alien that one visitor claimed looked like a vagina to a sculpture of an African American breaking out of his chains. Ovetz also says that last quarter, a photo featuring toast with a milky substance and a condom was removed from the student exhibition “Taboos.” With reference to the sculptures, AI president Jim Campbell says he thinks they were simply cycled out of the student gallery after three months on display; he confirms that the toast photo was pulled.

After Ovetz discovered that Mute/Off copies were missing, he wrote an e-mail to the Dean of Academic Affairs, Caren Meghreblian, Ph.D., to find out if she knew anything about their disappearance. She responded to him that the school had chosen to remove the magazines “as a precautionary measure.” She cited potential copyright violations. (Mute/Off featured an Adbusters-style collage of corporate logos over which “Organized Crime” had been stamped.) The dean also wrote that one piece might be seen as “racially offensive.”

“[The dean] obviously didn’t read the article to the end,” says Ovetz, who thinks she was referring to a short story written by Simone Mitchell, an African American student in the class. Mitchell, 27, had been studying game art and design, and his story describes a group of three men who call each other “nigga,” steal cars, rape a woman and randomly shoot people. At the very end of the piece, the reader learns that the three gangsters are actually video game characters, played by three wealthy, suburban white kids.

Speaking by phone from his Daly City home, Mitchell says that a video game, Unreal Tournament 2004, that AI uses in its game design curriculum features “lots of people getting killed, blood everywhere and pretty much everything I described in my piece is right there. If you play it online, people make those sorts of [racist] comments all the time.”

Campbell says he hasn’t personally seen that game, but that review processes are ongoing at the school. Despite this, he notes, “We try to give our faculty academic freedom in the classroom and try not to censor their lesson plans or the materials that they use to deliver their lesson plans.”

In the student handbook, AI reserves the right not to display student work that may be objectionable. “There is a process to go through to be able to post work of any kind of the campus,” says Campbell. He says postings must reinforce what is being learned on campus–in other words, students and faculty can’t necessarily go around posting their personal work. He also says the review process is important, because sometimes work that might be appropriate for students may not be appropriate for younger audiences visiting the campus.

AI spokesperson Gigi Gallinger-Dennis explains, “In an effort to ensure compliance with AI processes and procedures, [Mute/Off] was removed from circulation, pending further review. And so to follow procedures, we collected the magazine, had it reviewed and then redistributed it after a full review by our legal counsel.”

Gallinger-Dennis says that the school will continue to review student work, but she says the school will make more information about the review process available this quarter so that students can “make sure they are in compliance.”

Does the First Amendment protect students from censorship?

Not according to Oakland’s First Amendment Project staff attorney David Greene. He says that private universities don’t have to uphold First Amendment rights, because they aren’t government actors. “Subsidized loans don’t make a private university a government actor,” adds Greene, who is also one of the lawyers representing Josh Wolf, the freelance journalist in jail for refusing to turn over his video footage of a 2005 street protest to the court.

However, censorship may violate the Leonard Law, a free speech law unique to California. “The Leonard Law prohibits a private, post-secondary school from disciplining a student [for exercising First Amendment rights],” says Greene. “The law doesn’t indicate whether the removal of a student publication would be discipline. I think it should be.”

Does AI see censorship as punishment? “No,” says James Campbell, “I guess we don’t. But we didn’t end up censoring the work anyway. I think we have the right to a review period.” He points out that despite some faculty who protested that Mute/Off was embarrassingly ungrammatical, AI still allowed it to be redistributed in its entirety.

Campbell also says that AI may start workshops for students and faculty to discuss what it means “to be an artist in today’s commercial world. With that freedom comes responsibility.” He points out that students who attend AI are going into “commercial-type environments, not fine arts.”

Once these students enter the professional world, Campbell says their work will be subject to review by the company they work for. “They need to understand the ramifications that go with their freedom of expression,” he says. “[These limitations are] not necessarily set by us, but by the commercial world at large.”

About a week after the magazine was picked up by the school, Ovetz says that the dean and the head of the liberal studies department declined to rehire him for the spring quarter. “They told me there was some issue of some conflicts with some other staff,” says Ovetz. “That was their reason. I find that to be disingenuous because of the two previous positive reviews and pay raises.”

As for Ovetz’s firing, AI will not discuss personnel matters, but the president assures that his firing had nothing to do with Mute/Off‘s content or circulation.

Ovetz has since won a James Madison Freedom of Information Award for speaking out.


Morsels

February 21-26, 2007

Fed up with plastic-tasting fast food or frozen meals that include everything but taste? Prefer to buy locally, and to know how your food is processed? Want your food choices to be good tasting, good for you and good for the environment and economy? Listen to short but illuminating presentations on the principles and concerns underlying the Slow Food movement in a four-day, four-part series from 7am to 7:15am starting Tuesday, Feb. 27, on Sonoma County radio KRSH 95.9-FM (also online at www.krsh.com/listen.html.)

“This is a way for us to let the public know that there is an organization working on sustainable-food issues and connecting people with the farmers who are producing their food,” explains Laura Martin, co-leader of the Russian River Slow Food Conviviums. She’s also the wife of Larry Martin, governor for seven NorCal Slow Food Conviviums and the radio series’ first speaker. He’ll give an overview of the Slow Food movement, and why people should care about what they eat. Laura adds, “There are a lot of people who may be living the values of Slow Food without knowing there’s a Slow Food organization or what it does. The radio series allows us to reach out beyond our general membership.”

Daniel Imhoff, author of The Food Fight–A Citizen’s Guide to the Farm Bill, will be featured on Wednesday, Feb. 28, discussing the crucial federal legislation that has widespread impact on our food, health and environment. He’ll be followed on Thursday, March 1, by Mendocino County rancher and grass-fed meat distributor Mac Magruder, whose topic will be “Slaughterhouse Hoo-hah.” The radio series wraps up on Friday, March 2, with Rick Theis, founder of the Institute for Ecology and the Economy. A long-time Slow Food leader and environmentalist, Theis will discuss slow food and sustainability–activism, consumerism and environmentalism.

Quick dining snapshots by Bohemian staffers.

Winery news and reviews.

Food-related comings and goings, openings and closings, and other essays for those who love the kitchen and what it produces.

Recipes for food that you can actually make.

The Byrne Report

February 21-27, 2007

I have reported recently in these pages the history of United States senator Dianne Feinstein’s 2001-2005 conflict of interest due to her husband Richard C. Blum’s former stake in two war contractors, URS and Perini corporations. Unfortunately, the senator is not the only one in her family with an ethics problem. In March 2002, Gov. Gray Davis appointed Blum to a 12-year term as a regent of the University of California. For the next three years, both URS and Perini benefited from construction contracts awarded by the Regents.

A “conflict of interest” is defined as using a governmental position for personal gain. But since the laws governing official ethics are written by people who often have actual or potential conflicts, they are packed with loopholes and are basically unenforceable. So if you’re waiting for Feinstein or Blum to be indicted, dream on. Nevertheless, we serve history by documenting such trespasses.

In 1992, former regent Willis Harman enthused to the San Jose Mercury News about the pleasures of appointment because “this is definitely a great club to belong to, because the majority of members travel in fairly high circles. Through them, you tend to meet others in high financial, business and society circles.” The current crop of regents is full of such politically savvy business folks as Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger’s personal financial adviser and longtime business partner Paul Wachter. Blum was a genuine catch for the club, which, it turns out, was already doing business with him.

In May 2001, URS announced the award of “a contract from the University of California at Los Angeles to perform construction-management services for the $150 million replacement project for Santa Monica Hospital.” URS, which designs and sells advanced weaponry, also held a $125 million design and construction contract at UC’s Los Alamos nuclear weapons lab. So URS had substantial interests in UC capital projects when Blum, its principal owner, became a “decider” on construction planning and awarding contracts.

Perini was similarly situated. When Blum became a regent, the construction firm of Rudolph & Sletten was midway through building dorms and a dining hall for UC San Diego under a contract with the Regents. After Blum’s appointment, the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory, which is managed by the Regents, hired Rudolph & Sletten as the construction manager and general contractor for a $48 million nanotech laboratory, the Molecular Foundry.

(Construction management and general contracting are not normally awarded to the same firm, as the construction manager is supposed to oversee general contracting costs. By the nanolab’s dedication in March 2006, the project had gone over budget by $4 million.)

On Oct. 4, 2005, Perini Corp. announced the acquisition of Rudolph & Sletten while it was still building the Regent’s nanolab. It paid $53 million cash for the $700 million-a-year construction firm. Shortly thereafter, Blum divested his Perini stock at a substantial profit.

Back to URS: On May 26, 2005, 50 UC Berkeley students interrupted a meeting of the Regents to protest the Blum-URS-Los Alamos conflict of interest. Nevertheless, UC’s general counsel ruled that Blum’s ownership of a university contractor while a sitting regent was not a conflict–which is illogical but not surprising given that the regents have a long history of tolerating ethical conundrums. But the Los Alamos and Santa Monica Hospital deals were only part of Blum’s ethical problems. Public records available at the UC Berkeley Facilities Services website show that, after Blum joined the board, URS wrote portions of the Long Range Development Plan for UC Berkeley: the sections on hydrology, air quality and hazardous materials. These construction projects will change the face of the campus and cost hundreds of millions of dollars through 2020.

In an expensive act of privatizing a governmental function, Blum’s URS was hired by the Regents on July 29, 2005, to provide “program management services” for the development of a $200 million Southeast Campus Integrated Project, which includes a seismic retrofit of Memorial Stadium and a substantial expansion of the Haas School of Business. The university delegated URS to manage the planning, design, contracting and construction of the mammoth project for an initial fee of $4.5 million. So far, according to a UC Berkeley spokesperson, URS has been paid $1.7 million.

In November 2005, Blum resigned from the URS board of directors and also divested his investment firm of about $220 million in URS stock. In April 2006, the Feinstein-Blum family made a $15 million “gift” to UC Berkeley. The expanded business school is slated to house the Richard C. Blum Center for Developing Economies, which will encourage students to study the effects of global poverty upon political radicalism.

Words fail me.

or


Ask Sydney

February 21-27, 2007

Dear Sydney, for the first time in our eight-and-a-half year relationship, my boyfriend told me (during a fight) that I wasn’t trying hard enough in bed. I’m totally crushed, and even though we have since made up, I still don’t want to touch him. I thought we had a good sex life. Seriously. I was happy with it. How am I supposed to get over this. Do I just pretend it never happened? Try to jazz it up a little? What the fuck?–Jilted

Dear Jilted: This is the first time in eight-and-a-half years that he has said something about your sex life to hurt your feelings? Not bad, but it sounds like he blew your clean streak in a moment of frustration and anger. It’s possible, now that your argument is over, that he wishes he hadn’t said it, and maybe he didn’t even mean it in the first place. Maybe he was just in the throes of an “I’m an unsatisfied horny dude” funk. Chances are, if you feel pretty good about your sex life, that he does, too. Tell him that he hurt your feelings, and that you want to discuss the situation further now that you aren’t arguing anymore. Find out what he meant when he said you weren’t trying hard enough. That’s a pretty pathetic thing to say to someone you care about, so if he’s going to bother saying it at all, he better explain himself. Maybe there’s something he wants from you, but he’s been afraid to ask, or maybe he’s just a dick. You’ll have to probe the situation further before you come to any big conclusions about it. Just don’t pretend it didn’t happen. There are some things that one does not forget easily, and sexual slights are definitely up there in the realm of the unforgettable.

Dear Sydney, does it seem like people are more freaked out about the end of the world than they used to be? It seems like everywhere I go, someone is making a bad joke about global warming or predicting a killer earthquake or saying that Californian is going to fall into the ocean or moaning that it doesn’t really matter because we’re all going to get cancer anyway. It’s depressing is what it is, and to be perfectly honest, I’m starting to feel a little bit more neurotic. What am I supposed to do? Not reading the paper just isn’t enough anymore.–Freaking Out

Dear Freaking: Humans have been predicting doom, death and destruction since we became evolved enough to wield clubs, and, for the most part, we’ve been right. Life can be alarmingly short and painful. But despite pestilence, war and despair, the human race has yet to disappear altogether. Actually, life on this planet has greatly improved. Living before the invention of anesthetic, purified water and the Internet just wasn’t that much fun.

But despite these improvements, things haven’t been quite the same ever since the new millennium. True, the earth didn’t end as predicted on the stroke of midnight, but that doesn’t mean it still won’t. There seems to be this sense that we are living on borrowed time, and that no amount of stocking up on toilet paper and batteries is going to help. Add to this the general discord caused by the fact that we are at war, and it’s no wonder that you feel as if you are surrounded by naysayers. You probably are.

But what can a person do about it? We live on a chunk of spinning rock that’s suspended in space, and consequently, we could be annihilated at any moment by a mammoth meteor shower, just like the dinosaurs. Even under the best of circumstances, this fact alone is enough to make even the most stable among us feel a little insecure. So don’t read the paper; don’t participate in any jokes about global warming, you’ll only encourage them. Once a day, try to find the time to sit with your eyes closed and listen to one of your favorite songs. Also, though death is still inevitable, it might make you feel better to buy a Prius–this seems to be working for everybody else.

Dear Sydney, do you believe in the concept of soul mates? I’m wondering how you would even define what a soul mate is. There was a time when I thought I knew, but I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe I’ve been looking for something that doesn’t even exist.–Disillusioned

Dear Disillusioned: The official definition of “soul mate” is a person with whom one has a strong affinity. An affinity is a natural liking or attraction for someone. That’s all. So, sure, I believe in soul mates! But dictionary definitions aside, who we consider to be soul-mate material is entirely open to personal interpretation. Life is far too unpredictable to be able to nail down love. Love moves elusively, and demands an outstanding level of commitment, and it is this commitment more than anything else that creates the sort of connection people so often desperately want.

Whether or not your own personal version of a soul mate exists is dependent on your list of expectations, as well as a host of other things, such as luck, personal fortitude and patience, to name just a few. The longer the list, the more stringent your expectations; the more damaged your heart, then the more difficult it will be. So while you shouldn’t give up searching, you might want to reconsider your definitions. Our experiences shape our understanding of things, so why not accept that your vision of what a soul mate should be might need to shift as well?

No question too big, too small or too off-the-wall.


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February 21-27, 2007I have reported recently in these pages the history of United States senator Dianne Feinstein's 2001-2005 conflict of interest due to her husband Richard C. Blum's former stake in two war contractors, URS and Perini corporations. Unfortunately, the senator is not the only one in her family with an ethics problem. In March 2002, Gov. Gray Davis...

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