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Still an attractive metal

I have a personal and rather embarrassing standard for Metallica. It hinges on one question: Does the song lend itself to the daydream in which I stand on a stage, 32nd-note riffs sparking from my guitar, and snarl vocals that proceed to both impress and frighten the crowd, which—incidentally—is composed in equal parts of people I would like to impress and people for whom I have a great hatred.

The majority of Death Magnetic, when held up to this ridiculous yet reliable standard, succeeds admirably.

The band’s 10th studio album, produced by Rick Rubin, was hailed as a return to Metallica’s speed metal days long before it was released in September. And it is. Gone are the bluesy, wandering melody lines that populated the Load albums, as well as the pop-song structures of the Black Album that seemed content with a single riff. Mostly.

Because while Death Magnetic brings back galloping riffs and sonic fury, there are moments when shades of Metallica’s more recent, sludgy past pop up. And they’re not all bad.

Vicious tempos and start-stop precision made Metallica famous way back in the days of tight jeans and mullets. The 2008 Metallica reaches back for both (tempo and precision, not tight jeans and mullets). But they combine them with some of the more “Mama They Tried to Break Me” moments of the ’90s. It works on songs like “The Day That Never Comes” and “Cyanide.”

Instead of relying on those alt-metal years, Metallica uses them to do something they haven’t done for the last decade: write songs with multiple movements and complex arrangements. Or, put another way, songs that make you want to drive fast and punch concrete.

But for all the celebration of Metallica’s return to its first-four-albums form, there is an aspect that didn’t come back. Lyrically, it may be time for fans to learn to live without the Master of Puppets-era James Hetfield.
 
The lyrics for Death Magnetic came solely from Hetfield, and thank whatever deity for that, given the low points from the group’s previous album, St. Anger. Clearly, though, Death Magnetic still exists in that nebulous, post-recovery mode of self-evaluation.

Hetfield was clearly at his best when writing in a persona—songs like “Disposable Heroes,” “One” and “Creeping Death.” But those are nearly 20 years in the past. The songs we’ve got now aren’t bad if one can forgive the occasional poetic inversion for the sake of rhyme, the more-than-occasional metal cliché and the phrase “forever more.”

There are bright moments, of course, songs like “The End of the Line,” where Hetfield is back to barking lyrics and sounding like the same lead man whose staccato shouts on “Creeping Death” hit like spears.

If the early Hetfield of Master of Puppets was metal’s Hemingway, sparse and violent in nature and subject, then the post-recovery, pushing-50 Hetfield is someone different, more personal, drawn to assaying an interior world. It’s just good to hear him do it at this tempo again.

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Darden tries to tie greenbacks to green living

Innovation and entrepreneurship are compatible business models. UVA Darden School of Business Professor Andrea Larson is at the forefront of a new movement to implement strategies to solve the conflict among economic growth, the ecological system and public health. “It’s innovation that drives our economy forward,” says Larson. “It’s innovation that tries to create a better life.” Larson says the cost of this discrepancy falls disproportionately on the people who don’t have enough resources to correct it.

Andrea Larson teaches “Sustainable Innovation and Entrepreneurship” at Darden. The business school is trying to become a top 10 school for teaching and research on sustainability, as well as become carbon neutral by 2020.

In April 2008, Darden Dean Bob Bruner announced a new sustainability initiative. Part of the initiative focuses on the school’s goal to become a zero waste, carbon neutral enterprise by 2020. The school is also focusing on the curriculum: Darden has established a faculty task force to determine and recommend strategies on how to incorporate sustainability issues into the learning experience. The school’s goal is to become a top 10 school for teaching and research that integrate a sustainability mindset by 2013.

Leading the efforts is Erika Herz, who was hired in 2007 as the manager of sustainability programs.

“The initiative is the recognition that sustainability issues are everywhere,” says Herz. “We have to know how to balance the social and environmental challenges and the business opportunities they present.”

Currently, approximately eight courses on sustainability are electives only available to second-year MBA students. Larson teaches two such courses, and she has included a sustainability aspect in her classes for about 10 years. In her “Sustainable Innovation and Entrepreneurship” course, Larson focuses on the nexus of business and natural resources. The course objective is to inform students on the changing dynamics of global nature-human interdependences.

She hopes that the task force will quickly integrate sustainability into Darden’s first-year curriculum.

Darden’s willingness to jump on the green/sustainability bandwagon has followed what one management consulting firm has recognized as the new frontier.

A 2007 McKinsey & Company study of CEOs found that 95 percent of them believe that they are now a part of a greater social contract and that corporate entities are expected by society to increasingly assume public responsibilities.

According to a 2007 ranking by the Aspen Institute thinktank, the percentage of schools that require students to take a course dedicated to business and society issues has increased to 63 percent in 2007 from 34 percent in 2001. Stanford was ranked No. 1 in student opportunity, student exposure, course context and faculty research. Darden ranked No. 24, followed by Dartmouth and Duke.

Both Herz and Larson agree that the 2013 date is a reachable and stimulating deadline. “It’s just a matter of willingness to make these issues a priority, to put resources behind it,” says Larson.

C-VILLE welcomes news tips from readers. Send them to news@c-ville.com.

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Capsule reviews

An American Carol (PG-13, 83 minutes) Director David Zucker of Airplane! fame and Scary Movie 3 infamy helms this tale of a Michael Moore-ish filmmaker (Kevin Farley) who crusades to abolish our July 4 holiday and is visited by spirits who try to persuade him that he’s an idiot. With Jon Voigt as George Washington and Kelsey Grammer as George Patton. Seriously. Opening Friday

Beverly Hills Chihuahua
(PG, 85 minutes) A pampered pooch finds herself lost in Mexico and far from home. Disney provides the funding and Drew Barrymore, Andy Garcia, George Lopez and Salma Hayek provide the voices. Opening Friday

Blindness (R, 120 minutes) After a contagious blindness sweeps through a city, a group of strangers bands together to survive. Opening Friday

Burn After Reading (R, 95 minutes) In the latest Coen Brothers romp, a CIA agent’s tell-all falls into the hands of folks who want to sell it, but aren’t publishers. Starring George Clooney, Frances McDormand, John Malkovich, Tilda Swinton and Brad Pitt. Read C-VILLE’s full review here. Playing at Regal Downtown Mall 6

Choke (R, 92 minutes) Sex addict Sam Rockwell cons diners into saving his life as he gags on his grub, and uses their pity cash to pay for his mother’s hospital bills. Then, as you might expect, things get complicated. Read C-VILLE’s full review here. Playing at Regal Downtown Mall 6

Eagle Eye (PG-13, 118 minutes) Shia LaBeouf and Michelle Monaghan follow the bidding of a voice over the phone. Why? You’ll find out. Playing at Regal Seminole Square 4

Flash of Genius (PG-13, 119 minutes) A docudrama about the guy who invented the intermittent windshield wiper, played by Greg Kinnear, who got screwed by the system but then—well, you’ll see. Clearly, through your windshield, eh? Eh? Opening Friday

Fly Me to the Moon 3-D (G, 85 minutes) In special 3-D animation, a group of teenaged houseflies (or houseflies the equivalent age of human teenagers, whatever that is) stows away on Apollo 11. Voice talents include Ed Begley Jr., Tim Curry, Kelly Ripa and Christopher Lloyd. Playing at Carmike Cinema 6

Ghost Town (PG-13, 102 minutes) Ricky Gervais kicks the bucket but is revived only a few minutes later to find that he can see and communicate with ghosts. And the pesky spectres want to interfere with his love life. Playing at Carmike Cinema 6

The House Bunny
(PG-13, 98 minutes) Kicked out of the Playboy Mansion, an aging blonde hottie (Anna Faris) finds work, of sorts, as a sorority house mother—and maybe finds happiness? Well, wondering about this movie’s  plot is like reading Playboy for the articles. Playing at Carmike Cinema 6

How to Lose Friends and Alienate People (R, 110 minutes) Simon Pegg is a downscale British writer not fitting in at all at an upscale magazine in New York. It’s reasonable to hope that veteran “Curb Your Enthusiasm” director Robert B. Weide’s film won’t water down the vinegar of Toby Young’s memoir, from which it’s adapted. Opening Friday

Igor (PG, 86 minutes) John Cusack provides the voice of an aspiring mad scientist’s assistant that wants to break free and invent on his own. Playing at Carmike Cinema 6

Lakeview Terrace (PG-13, 106 minutes) In director Neil Labute’s thriller, Samuel L. Jackson plays a veteran L.A. cop disapproving of and harassing his nextdoor neighbors, an interracial newlywed couple (Patrick Wilson, Kerry Washington). Remember when they remade and race-swapped Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner into Guess Who? This is sort of like that meets Unlawful Entry. Read C-VILLE’s full review here. Playing at Regal Seminole Square 4

Miracle at St. Anna
(R, 166 minutes) The story of members of the 92nd Infantry Division who were trapped in Italy following an attempt to rescue a child. Also, a Spike Lee joint. Playing at Regal Downtown Mall 6

My Best Friend’s Girl
(R, 103 minutes) A romantic comedy with Dane Cook, Kate Hudson, Alec Baldwin, Jason Biggs and Lizzy Caplan, from the director of Pretty in Pink and Grumpier Old Men, Howard Deutch. Playing at Carmike Cinema 6

Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist
(PG-13, 90 minutes) Michael Cera and Kat Dennings play two cute proto-hipster high schoolers—apparently no relation whatsoever to Nick and Nora Charles of the Thin Man movies of the ’30s—who hang out all night in New York and go to shows and get into each other. Opening Friday

Nights in Rodanthe (PG-13, 97 minutes) Diane Lane and Richard Gere star in this tale about two people who find unlikely love during their respective romantic crises. Playing at Carmike Cinema 6

Righteous Kill (R, 101 minutes) Just ask yourself: How often do these two movie titans appear together on the screen? That’s Donnie Wahlberg and 50 Cent, of course. Also Robert De Niro and Al Pacino, as veteran New York cops tracking a serial killer. Playing at Regal Downtown Mall 6

Tell No One (Unrated, 125 minutes) Years after the death of his wife—a death that he was accused of perpetrating—Dr. Alexandre Beck becomes the suspect of another murder and learns his wife may be alive yet. Playing at Vinegar Hill Theatre

Tropic Thunder (R, 107 minutes) Ben Stiller (co-scripting and directing), Jack Black and Robert Downey Jr. portray a group of pampered, quirkily egotistical actors making a megabudget movie about the Vietnam war. Nick Nolte plays the screenwriter who decides to put them in a real war. Boo-yah! Read C-VILLE’s full review here. Playing at Carmike Cinema 6

Tyler Perry’s The Family That Preys (PG-13, 111 minutes) Kathy Bates, Alfrie Woodard, and, go figure, Tyler Perry, star in this tale of scandalous entanglement between two families from different social strata. Playing at Regal Seminole Square 4

The Women (PG-13, 114 minutes) A “Who’s Who of Hollywood Women” show up in this remake of the 1939 film in which Mary Haines (Meg Ryan) leaves her husband and finds solace and affirmation among female friends. Read C-VILLE’s full review here. Playing at Regal Downtown Mall 6

An unfamiliar feeling: power-line relief

So, as you may have heard, there’s this ginormous new power line that’s been proposed for Northern Virginia.

This story is way too large, and tangled, for me to thoroughly cover in this space. But I can say three things: One, our local environmental defenders, the Piedmont Environmental Council, have been seriously on the case for a while now, agitating against the line on a number of fronts. Two, the project has had a major recent setback in Pennsylvania (the NoVa line, planned by Dominion, was meant to connect with another planned by PA-based Allegheny Energy).

Three, this issue has an unusual personal resonance for me, since the Pennsylvania portion of the 500-volt line was slated to pass directly over my dad’s house.

Over a year ago, a reporter for the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review dissed my dad and his house by accepting a ride over the proposed power-line route in an Allegheny Energy helicopter and then giving voice to the company’s claims that "we’re not putting it in people’s yards" and that the land in question is "very rural" (read: empty). I spotted the story, wrote a pissed-off letter, and succeeded in getting another Tribune-Review reporter to visit my dad, walk his land, and interview some of his neighbors.

Now comes word that Allegheny Energy has given up on putting a line along that route.

It’s a nice and unfamiliar feeling to be so relieved about something a power company could have done but won’t. I’m savoring it. People in West Virginia will continue to contend with the planned line, though, and we still don’t have a final decision from the Virginia State Corporation Commission. Seems like a good time to remind ourselves and our government that we really can solve a lot of our energy woes just by replacing light bulbs, ditching the T.V., and unplugging our phone chargers. Conservation, people! Dig it!

People like my dad will thank you.

 

 

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Correction from September issue of SUGAR

In the September 16, 2008, issue of SUGAR, we misstated the phone number for the American Spirit Institute. The correct number is 531-1039. We regret the error.
 

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Great vengeance and furious anger

Is it weird that so many fall movies are turning racial charges into high concepts? Gary Fleder’s The Express could be just another college-football drama, except it’s about the first black man to win the Heisman Trophy. Spike Lee’s Miracle at St. Anna could be a standard-issue World War II movie, except it’s about black American soldiers. Lance Hammer’s Ballast could be the gritty drama of a poor black family in the Mississippi River Delta, except it’s a strikingly naturalistic one—so underplayed that the lack of concept becomes the concept.

Snakes in the suburbs? Samuel L. Jackson tries to rid his neighborhood of a mixed-race couple in the fierce, occasionally uneven Lakeview Terrace.

And then there’s Neil Labute’s Lakeview Terrace, which could be a prefab thriller about a bigot making trouble for the young, mixed-race couple moving into his genteel neighborhood, except the bigot is a cop, and black. What this means, yes, is that Lakeview Terrace is basically Guess Who meets Unlawful Entry.

Sure, putting it in pitch-meeting-ese may seem reductive, but then, combining the basic genetic material of the 2005 race-reversed Bernie Mac-Ashton Kutcher remake of Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner with the 1992 bad-cop drama (or bad cop-drama; either way) starring Kurt Russell and Ray Liotta is not an endeavor any sane person would describe as “too easy.”

Of course, hardness suits Labute, who began in movies by adapting his own knife-like play In the Company of Men, and is known for moral pugnacity, which comes through even when the script isn’t his. (In Lakeview Terrace, it’s David Loughery and Howard Korder’s.) And of course, perhaps most importantly, the cop here—a tough L.A.P.D. veteran and widower whose upper-middle class homestead seems especially hard-won —is played by Samuel L. Jackson.

This man knows the meaning of service, of hardship, of heroism. He has been through some things. Like snakes on a plane. How will he handle a well-meaning, Prius-driving, Utne Reader-subscribing Wonder Bread-white Berkeley graduate with a black wife in suburbia?

Not well.

Jackson’s Officer Abel Turner has been ruling the roost to which Malcolm X’s chickens came home, as a resented-disciplinarian single father of two kids, a brash, borderline and brutal inner-city patrolman and an unsolicited one-man neighborhood watch. He’s not at all pleased when Chris and Lisa Mattson (Patrick Wilson and Kerry Washington) move in next door, and especially not when they get busy in their pool, unwittingly within view of Abel’s kids.

It’s no surprise that hostilities escalate, although they do play out, at least at first, in surprising ways. The movie wants to challenge not just our received ideas about race but also about family, marriage and manhood. It allows for some unsettling depends-how-you-look-at-it complexity. Nagging questions linger about the true depths of Abel’s hostility and whether faux-magnanimous white liberal guilt will be Chris’ only defense. And, as it turns out, the progressive idyll of the Mattsons’ marriage was showing signs of strain to begin with.

So it’s too bad that Lakeview Terrace can’t keep from straitjacketing itself within a tired thriller format. Take the convenient removal of Abel’s kids from the equation; or the ruinous spelling out of his backstory; or the allegorically obvious California wildfire encroaching on the neighborhood in direct rhythmic proportion to the friction combusting within it. Take those things, or leave them; all that remains is a concept.

 

 

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Mandate forces parents to weigh HPV vaccine risks

Holly Edwards remains undecided about whether to vaccinate her teenage twin daughters against the human papillomavirus (HPV).

“I am not convinced,” said Edwards, registered nurse, city councilor and perhaps most important, mother, as she spoke to an audience made up mostly of women on September 23 at McLeod Hall in UVA’s School of Nursing. She was one of three members of a panel discussion on HPV and cervical cancer sponsored by the UVA organization Feminism is for Everyone (FIFE) and the Charlottesville chapter of the National Organization for Women.

HPV is the most common sexually transmitted disease (STD), with more than six million new cases each year and about 10 deaths among women every day. The Gardasil vaccine, manufactured by Merck & Co., is an extra step in the prevention of cervical cancer if coupled with pap smears.

"I am leery of the political will that deemed the vaccine mandatory," said Holly Edwards.

Edwards is among many who still have questions about a vaccine that, starting next year, will be required for all sixth grade girls in the Commonwealth. Virginia is the only state in the nation with the mandate, but it has a relatively loose verbal opt-out policy for parents.

“I am leery of the political will that deemed the vaccine mandatory,” said Edwards, who points out that gatherings like this one are “absolutely necessary” to educate parents and girls about public health. And discussion, she says, is a key component to having a healthy society.

Fellow panelist Dr. Mark Stoler recognized that mandates go against the idea of freedom, but “to protect the population, the mandate is the only way to do it.” Stoler acknowledged the need for men to also be vaccinated, because HPV can result in anal and penile cancer, but focused on the need to educate the masses on the primary targets of this type of cancer and the importance of the vaccine.

“Cervical cancer is a particularly nasty cancer,” he said. “It’s a cancer that occurs in younger women and women who are in the prime of their lives, who are taking care of their children. This is not a cancer of old age.”

But researcher and freelance journalist Cynthia A. Janak, who has been writing about the side effects of the vaccine, said that the risks connected to Gardasil are too great for a mandate.

“It’s very dangerous,” she said. In her research, Janak found that many young women who got the vaccine suffered from fainting, nausea and debilitating migraines.

Panelist Dr. Jennifer Young, fellow in Gynecologic Oncology at UVA, encouraged all mothers to vaccinate their daughters for the simple fact that at least 50 percent of sexually active men and women acquire genital HPV infection at some point in life and the cure can be long and painful.

“Imagine having to be in stirrups with a microscope in between your legs for 20 minutes —not fun,” she said. Young also said the mandatory vaccine could reduce the billions of dollars spent each year on curing genital warts, one of the linked effects of the HPV virus.

Nora Eakin, 19, vice chair for FIFE and UVA student, decided to get vaccinated but understands the frustration of parents who are forced to make a decision. “There is definitely not enough information on sexual health around,” she says. “I am not sure if people around campus know about HPV and the vaccine.”

C-VILLE welcomes news tips from readers. Send them to news@c-ville.com.

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Your tax dollars, at work

Worked for the county for: 2 years

Resides in: Albemarle County

Job title: County registrar, overseeing the election process.

Best of times: The end result. “The best is having people registered and hopefully we’ve kept the process as smooth as possible.”

Jake Washburne

Worst of times: Election day. “Things get pretty hectic. The phone is ringing off the hook, and there are always hundreds of questions to be answered. And of course, it is a very long day—from 5am to 9pm or later.”

Strangest moment on the job:
“I have less stories compared to some of our other people. So I know I’ll have some good ones if I stick around long enough.”

If he were a superhero, he’d be:
The Green Lantern. “Always liked him, but it’s been such a long time, I can’t remember why.”
 

C-VILLE welcomes news tips from readers. Send them to news@c-ville.com.

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The Force is strong with this one

We’ve all known, ever since Obi-Wan Kenobi first clued us in way back in Star Wars: A New Hope, that the Dark Side has an irresistible allure.

And now we know exactly why. Absolute power may corrupt absolutely, but it’s a total blast to throw around.

The developers at LucasArts have described Star Wars: The Force Unleashed as a game about “using the Force to kick someone’s ass.” And that sums it up: Unlike games where you have to earn your power by endless hours of level-slogging, you’re a beast from the get-go, able to use Dark Force powers to lift and drop TIE Fighters on unsuspecting heads, blast lightning from your paws and bowl boulders and exploding plants into crowds of onrushing enemies. (Amazingly, it gets even more powerful from there.) The game awards bonuses and quicker upgrades for doing what you’ll want to do anyway—find as many creative ways as possible to crush, hurl and fry storm troopers, Jawas and anything else that gets in your badass way.

The story’s cleverly couched in the hallowed Star Wars mythos between Episodes III and IV, and involves the Empire’s biggest mouth-breathing Sith Lord acquiring himself a secret apprentice. That’d be you, Darth Vader’s newest weapon in the effort to off straggling members of the disbanded Jedi council—and, in what has to qualify as a shocker that totally changes the way you view Episodes IV, V and VI—overthrow the Emperor himself. 

The next-gen versions of the game sport amazing graphics, including environments that are vast and cinematic. (If the individual pieces of debris drifting on the gravity streams on the junk planet Raxus Prime aren’t enough to slacken your jaw, you’re not paying attention.) The levels are also wonderfully destructible—try tossing an enemy through a plate glass window and watch the blast door snap shut. The last–gen versions, meanwhile, get extra missions, exposition and cutscenes. How’s that for an egalitarian approach? 

Ultimately, the Dark Side has its own dark side, and it’s an old enemy of action games like this: camera control and clipping. Using the lock-on button can help to offset the loopy targeting system that often has you force-pushing a piece of the environment when you were aiming for an enemy, but not always. In the next-gen versions, the camera will sometimes choose to follow an enemy you’ve tossed as they sail hundreds of feet away into a cliff chasm or a giant mushroom growth—cool to watch, sure, but totally disorienting, especially if you’re in the middle of a huge throwdown.

Consider it a minor dent on Darth Vader’s helmet. We’ve been waiting for an epic Star Wars game for years now, and Force Unleashed is it.

Fluff Train Keeps a-Rollin’

You know, I was thinking this weekend about my extensive foreign policy experience. I have several Facebook friends in other countries. Also, I have enjoyed many beers of the world, giving me some diplomatic bona fides should we ever enter a cold war with Ireland or Belgium. I have even toured the EU Parliament building in Brussels — on my honeymoon! (Hey, some people find beaches romantic, others parliamentary procedure.)

PalinBy now I imagine most of you have heard about Palin’s calamitous interview with Katie Couric, and the second Fey-as-Palin SNL skit that lampooned it. Concerns about Palin’s readiness are spanning both parties. My father bet me $5 that Palin would drop out before the election, citing a need to "spend time with her family." I’m wagering that Her SpunkinessTM is staying put. My dad, incidentally, is a veteran who once guarded Air Force One during a JFK visit, and he’s very worried about a McCain-Palin White House.

Judith Warner recently wrote in the NYT about feeling a pang of unexpected sympathy for Palin. I’ll admit I felt it too — momentarily — as I watched her flub Couric’s question about how Alaska’s proximity to Russia gave her foreign policy experience. How the McCain campaign could not have prepped her with even slightly better BS is a mystery to me. Same goes for her nonsensical answer about the bailout.

Yet it only takes one thought of her divisive RNC speech, when she sneered "I guess a small-town mayor is sort of like a ‘community organizer,’ except that you have actual responsibilities," or a quick read of this Salon article about her ruthless political style, for that feeling of sympathy to disappear.