The coal trains that might be heading through Eugene have hit at least one obstacle, and it’s a wet one. In order to export coal and liquefied natural gas (LNG), both controversial fossil fuels, the Port of Coos Bay needs to dredge and deepen its channel.
The 2009 arrest of Josh Schlossberg as he protested Umpqua Bank was carried out with excessive force, a federal jury ruled Monday. An earlier ruling confirmed that EPD Sgt. Bill Solesbee violated Schlossberg’s civil rights by viewing the contents of Schlossberg’s video camera without a warrant after the arrest. Schlossberg was never formally charged in the incident.
Brian Obie’s Inn at the 5th didn’t open as planned in mid-January, but the boutique hotel and conference center at Fifth Street Public Market is looking at welcoming its first guests Wednesday, Feb. 1. The hotel already has 1,000 room nights booked for 2012 and lots of queries about weddings and executive retreats, says Heidi Albertson of the inn. The official dedication will likely be in late February, and we are curious to see what VIPs show up. Check www.innat5th.com
• Discover Downtown Springfield will be holding a networking reception to update the public on the progress of downtown Springfield from 5:30 to 7 pm Thursday, Jan. 26, at Devote 30, 126 4th Street, Springfield. Contact Neil Obringer at NEDCO, email@example.com
If you listen to underground hip hop, you know what the three-eyed smiley face emblem stands for. You understand how intense it was when Hieroglyphics, the group this symbol represents, formed in the early ‘90s, what it felt like to put Third Eye Vision into your stereo and realize that not only had an authentic and mature form of underground hip hop arrived, but it was bountiful.
Take a quartet of guitar-savvy gingers steeped in pedagogies of the Northwest, see them south to the sun and listen to what they’ve made since returning for a rain-soaked second-rinse — it’s something akin to sonic honey on crunchy toast.
Doomtree is a wild-style hip-hop collective from the rhyme-tundra of Minneapolis. With five emcees (P.O.S., Sims, Dessa, Mike Micilian, Cecil Otter), two DJs (Lazerbeak, Papertiger) and solo projects running the gamut of hip-hop mixtapes, spoken word poetry, creative fiction, visual art, punk bands and individual releases from each member, when Doomtree takes root, listen.
The band moe. is to Phish what Jefferson Airplane was to the Dead. The New York-based jam band is an East Coast amalgam of roots and jam, more apt to throw into the mix an acoustic string or two than other improv-based rock bands like Umphrey’s McGee or the Disco Biscuits.
It was with inspired heart that I took my kids to the Oct. 16 Occupy Eugene March. Looking at the exuberance and peace embodied by the people surrounding us, I thought that this movement might be one I could support and work for. And I did to the best of my ability. Until recently.
Have boyfriend. Several months. Love sex. First time we sixty-nine, I notice he has a little turtlehead sticking out. You get me? Second time, he has bits of toilet paper stuck in that area. CAN I ADDRESS THIS? And how do I do it without giving him a permanently flaccid penis? I love this man to pieces and know this is a humiliating topic. Please help!
It’s an odd thing to leave a movie screening feeling rather like you wish you’d read the story instead. David Cronenberg’s latest film — and his third with Viggo Mortensen, who disappears into the role of Sigmund Freud — is based on a play that’s based on a book, and somewhere in there is a story that gives the reader or viewer time to absorb the ideas and suggestions packed into the dialogue, to translate the glances and tensed shoulders into an embodiment of those ideas.
Coal doesn’t just burn hot, it burns dirty — it’s pretty much dirt that burns — and like most hot things, it just might burn you.
No active commercial coal mines remain in Oregon, and the state plans to phase out coal from the Boardman coal-burning power plant in the Columbia Gorge by 2020. But if you thought coal wasn’t a concern for Oregonians, think again. Oregon is pretty dependent on coal — almost 40 percent of the state’s electricity comes from coal-burning power plants — and now Big Coal has plans to drive massive open trainloads of the grimy fossil fuel right through Eugene.
In making our last garden on a steep, damp piece of hillside we brought in a lot of material: quarried basalt rock for retaining walls, round rock for drains, an ocean of gravel. When we moved house a few years ago, I was aiming for a garden with a lighter carbon footprint. Among other things, I hoped to save energy by bringing in as little material as possible. As I learned more about our new yard, those hopes went down the drain, so to speak.
Robert Sherwood (mandolin, vocals, guitar), August Dennis (bass), Marisa Korth (vocals, guitar) and Carlo Canlas (violin, vocals) are the musicians who make up Backwater Opera — a group that stitches the sound of bluegrass music into a classical indie-rock tapestry. It’s an aesthetic the band calls “chambergrass.”
Back in 1994, UO freshman Douglas Jenkins bought a cheap cello. The instrument was way too small for him and, what’s more, he didn’t know how to play it. But thanks to the generosity of a superb teacher (Eugene Symphony cellist Sylvie Spengler) and his own DIY determination, Jenkins — who’d played guitar in high-school punk bands — not only learned to play but also taught himself how to arrange pop music for lots of cellos.
There’s a rough and rugged synergy going on in Portland. This synergy is between two musical factions that you’d never think would combine forces. It blends the grungiest corners of the urban jungle with the “just-don’t-give-a-fuck” contigent of the Northwest backwoods. It’s jug band, it’s folk punk, rockabilly, punk blues, cowpunk and psychobilly. Call it whatever suits your fancy, ‘cause by the time the corn whiskey hits your bloodstream it’ll all blend together seamlessly.
The Bijou’s presentation of Revenge of the Electric Car is a welcome sequel to Who Killed the Electric Car? a decade ago. The opposition has become an advocate. Ten years ago there was only one struggling EV maker in Eugene, today there are several Oregon-based companies involved in EVs and a network of charging infrastructure is growing. Yet most of us drive locally by ourselves on a daily basis.
“Touch me,” the political-activist actress entreats the playwright, just after his wife exits to make a dip for the crudités. These words set the story spinning like a '60s love song on old vinyl — something real and clichéd at once, exploring the delicate, powerful balance of love.
Raunchy, underdeveloped, oversexed and aesthetically topsy-turvy, The Great American Trailer Park Musical is a piece of sideshow freakery on the order of John Waters’ Desperate Living. It’s a prankish mish-mash of attitudes, styles and music, and — peopled by potty mouths, crotch scratchers, dick grabbers and slut buckets — it’s certainly not for the prudes of political correctness. This show is as off-color as it is off Broadway.