Arts & Culture

From the wholly updated new edition of The Impossible Will Take a Little While: Perseverance and Hope in Troubled Times, edited by Paul Loeb (Basic Books $18.99 www.theimpossible.org).  Other contributors include Maya Angelou, Diane Ackerman, Marian Wright Edelman, Wael Ghonim, Václav Havel, Seamus Heaney, Jonathan Kozol, Tony Kushner, Audre Lorde, Nelson Mandela, Bill McKibben, Bill Moyers, Pablo Neruda, Mary Pipher, Arundhati Roy, Dan Savage, Desmond Tutu, Alice Walker, Cornel West, Terry Tempest Williams, and Howard Zinn.  Global Warming and the Inevitability Trap By Paul Loeb   Is the biggest hurdle on climate change outright denial? Or is it the sense that of being overwhelmed and too late, that there’s nothing we can do?  As K.C. Golden writes in an excerpt from my newly updated political hope anthology The Impossible Will Take a Little While, defeat is certain only if we accept it as such. What we often call preordained only becomes so through our resignation.

After being nearly absent from American multiplexes for decades, slavery has returned at the center of three very different films. Quentin Tarentino’s Django Unchained (2012) was a bullet-riddled Americanization of the spaghetti western. Steve McQueen’s 12 Years a Slave (2013) won a Best Picture Oscar for its grim retelling of a real-life nightmare. And now we have The Retrieval, a low-budget effort that makes up in originality what it lacks in production values. The indie flick may be the most surprising take yet on the shameful institution of American slavery. Written and directed by Chris Eska, it stars Ashton Sanders as Will, an African-American boy who plays a perverse role in the Civil War. Along with his Uncle Marcus (Keston John), the fatherless 14-year-old helps a white bounty hunter named Burrell (Bill Oberst Jr.) recapture escaped slaves. After their latest successful mission, Burrell gives Marcus and Will a particularly important assignment: They must find Nate (Tishuan Scott), a freed slave who now digs graves for the Union Army, and persuade him to return to his old plantation.

The fetid muck never goes away It lingers for generations Once a place of peace and beauty Nothing now survives the pepto-bismol pit Bit by bit, by bit they all succumbed with searing nostrils, burning lungs to satisfy our voracious appetite. Pink lives, sentient and shy, robbed of their young, their trusting eyes broken, their gentle nature plundered. Here your terror ends -- but mine begins -- where the trail of dead fouls air and land. Your while bones littered about. Your bodies swollen or exploded. Incomprehensible the deed. Inconceivable the spill. Unthinkable the toll, beneath the odor's first layer. An unwholesome tang, insidiously nauseating and frightening at its core. Deep-sweet and high-sour. the effluvium charms only black flies and bloodthirsty savages. There are no frogs in this lagoon. There are no fish in this lagoon. There is no life in this lagoon.

It’s a common conceit that any new series of superhero movies has to start with the origin. It doesn’t matter if 90% of the world’s population already knows that the death of Batman’s parents drove him to become a ludicrously rich vigilante, or that Superman came from the planet Krypton, or that Spider-Man was bitten by a radioactive spider. Movie studios are convinced that the story still needs to be retold on the screen, and then retold yet again if the series gets a new lead actor or director or executive producer or key grip. It’s a rare case—say, the upcoming Guardians of the Galaxy—where the first movie of a superhero series gives us anything terribly new. More often they come into their own with the second movie. With the origin retelling out of the way we get The Dark Knight, we get Iron Man 2, we get The Avengers. We get Captain America: The Winter Soldier. There was one thing that made Captain America: The First Avenger different from most superhero franchise setups: It was a World War II movie, a period piece. As a result, The Winter Soldier had to carry a little of the weight of setting up Cap’s supporting cast since the bulk of them have died of old age by now.

Fifteen years ago, NATO was bombing Yugoslavia. This may be difficult for people to grasp who believe the Noah movie is historical fiction, but: What your government told you about the bombing of Kosovo was false. And it matters. While Rwanda is the war that many misinformed people wish they could have had (or rather, wish others could have had for them), Yugoslavia is the war they're glad happened -- at least whenever World War II really fails as a model for the new war they're after -- in Syria for instance, or in Ukraine -- the latter being, like Yugoslavia, another borderland between east and west that is being taken to pieces. The peace movement is gathering in Sarajevo this summer. The moment seems fitting to recall how NATO's breakout war of aggression, its first post-Cold-War war to assert its power, threaten Russia, impose a corporate economy, and demonstrate that a major war can keep all the casualties on one side (apart from self-inflicted helicopter crashes) -- how this was put over on us as an act of philanthropy. The killing hasn't stopped. NATO keeps expanding its membership and its mission, notably into places like Afghanistan and Libya.

A couple of months back, I mentioned that longtime central Ohio music veteran Jeff German had signed a three record deal with Slothtrop Records. Last Tuesday, Slothtrop released German’s debut album, “12 R.O.U.N.D.S.”        The impressive thing about German’s record deal is not that it happened, but when it happened – the album is being released just after German’s 50th birthday. A fixture on the Columbus music scene in the 90’s with the Flying Saucers, German shut down his music career, moved with his wife to Granville, raised a family and coached hockey. When his children were old enough, German returned to playing with the Cur Dogs, who self-released the album “Chasing Tales” in 2010. He also put in some time as a side-man, playing lead guitar with several acts, including Lydia Loveless. In 2013 German formed his current band, the Blankety Blanks, and made some recordings which found their way to Slothtrop Records, who contacted German in the fall of 2013.        When he was first approached by the label, German thought that he was the victim of a music industry con.

If you’re into theater, there’s no place like Broadway. The shows are the biggest and (sometimes) the best plays and musicals, while the theaters are small enough to let you experience them in an up-close and personal manner. The biggest drawback is that the tickets can be expensive. The second-biggest drawback is that you have to be in New York to see them, and staying in New York is equally pricey. Still, theater geeks like me can’t resist the call of Broadway, so we find ways to adapt and economize. That’s what I did last weekend, when a family celebration left me with two days to spend in the Big Apple. My first adaptation is one I learned years ago: If you want to spend your days in New York, you’re better off spending your nights in New Jersey. The Meadowlands area of Chris Christie’s stomping grounds boasts hotels that are very reasonable as long as the Super Bowl isn’t in town. Best of all, your room comes with a free parking space, which is something you’ll never find in Manhattan. Just be sure your chosen hotel is near a New Jersey Transit bus stop, because taking a car into New York is an expensive hassle.

Café Brioso has the best pesto on a sandwich I’ve ever had. I think what makes this pesto so unique is that they use pecans. When I am downtown and in the mood for a simple soup and sandwich combo, this is one of my favorite stops. Everything on their menu is made fresh daily, from scratch, including their Foccocia (however, that is not vegan because it has dairy in it). There are a few exceptions to their house “made from scratch” products lines; their delicious and moist artisan wheat and sourdough sandwich breads are organic and locally sourced from Dan the baker. The wheat bread contains honey and the sourdough is currently the only vegan bread option. They typically offer at least one vegan soup and often a vegan fresh fruit salad can be found. Their coffee is roasted on site and can be enhanced with a vegan milk option; I’m fond of their Ohio Maple Latte with soy milk. Warning- the downtown meter readers are predatory, so don’t park at the 30 minute meters in front of the restaurant if you plan to hold a meeting or are inclined to be distracted when running into people you haven’t seen in a while, you will get a $45 ticket. Cafe Brioso is located at 14 E Gay St. Columbus.

The iconic GI Joe line of military-inspired toys is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year, but recent news suggests toymaker Hasbro is planning to mark the occasion by killing off the brand. The official GI Joe Con recently announced that Hasbro wouldn’t be attending the show. This news came as a huge surprise, since Hasbro has always been at the official convention to give fans a preview of the coming year. The reason for this turned out to be both simple and very significant: Hasbro no longer has a “GI Joe brand team,” the group responsible for planning, designing and marketing the toys. The toy line is dead. With its inherent ties to the US military, GI Joe has always been affected by American politics. Though the original 12” action figure was hugely popular when it was first introduced in the 1960s, growing cultural dissatisfaction with the war in Vietnam led Hasbro to make the line more adventure-oriented in the 70s. By the 80s, GI Joe was pretty much science fiction. They were still ostensibly an elite unit of US military specialists, but they were different enough not to scare off parents who remembered Vietnam.

I couldn’t find a spot closer than Neil Avenue. Having been deserted by my brother and nearly squashed by a bus when I attempted a High Street drop-off, there is no choice remaining but to park the car and start hauling equipment up the hill to Dick’s Den. When I finally get there, a little out of breath, I open the door and walk into mayhem. The place is absolutely jammed. I am literally pushing through the crowd, trying to keep my guitar from being knocked out of my hands. It’s the 9th annual Columbus tribute to the late, great Townes Van Zandt. Dan Dougan is onstage, opening the event with the self-penned “Song for Townes.” I squeeze my way into the pool room, which has been turned into a de facto musician’s lounge.Veterans of the event have preemptively scotched any attempt to start a game by loading the table with guitar cases. I add mine to the pile, take a deep breath and head back to see the end of Dougan’s set. Wowee, there are a crap-ton of people here and they are all very drunk. Townes Van Zandt (1944-1997) was one of the great American songwriters of the 20th century.