The Minneapolis Bicycle Advisory Committee has some advice on bicycling in winter. I can agree with most of this except that studded tires is probably necessary.

In Minneapolis, many bicyclists embrace the winter months by continuing to ride. If you are already biking, or considering winter biking, here are some tips for dealing with the snow, cold temperatures, and motorists:

· Travel slowly when snow and ice are present. Riding a bike on a street can be challenging, particularly when ice has formed or snow has become lumpy and compacted by vehicles. Ride in bare patches of pavement or non-compacted snow when possible. Take turns and curves at a slower speed, and allow longer distances for braking. Be sure to plan ahead for extra travel time. And remember that cyclists have the right to ride in a general traffic lane, which (among other instances) may be necessary if bike lanes have not been cleared.

· Ride defensively around motorists. Cyclists are less visible in the winter (with fewer cyclists riding and less daylight), and roads are more narrow (when snow banks creep into the street from curbs). Always be prepared for motorists to make a mistake. Follow traffic laws and be as considerate as possible. Educate yourself and your friends (motorists and bicyclists alike!) on traffic laws and safety.

· Take the off-street trails. Since Minneapolis has so many miles of trails (84 miles and counting!), urbanites from across the country often suffer from “trail envy.” To top it all off, the Park Board and Public Works Department have policies of clearing snow from off-street trails soon after the end of a snowfall (read more about how the Midtown Greenway and Hiawatha Light Rail Trail are plowed). In most cases, this occurs in less than 24 hours. If you have the choice, leave the grime and compacted snow of the streets behind and head for the trails!

· Stay visible. Riding in the winter months means more darkness. Brighten your ride by using headlights, taillights, and reflective clothing and gear. Legally, cyclists are required to ride with a white, front headlight and rear, red reflector at night.

· Use an old bike in good working condition. Salt and sand can wreak havoc on your treasured bicycle, resulting in rust and breakdowns. Use an older but functional bicycle in the winter months. Two elements of a well functioning winter bike include effective brakes and a well greased chain (wet lube is ideal for snowy conditions). Wider tires with good traction are also essential. Add a pair of fenders to your bicycle to keep street muck from landing on your clothing. The Midtown Bike Center has a bike washing facility which can be used to clean off your bike for $3.

· Dress in layers. Just like other winter sports, bicycling can heat up your body rapidly. Apply layers to your torso and legs, and be prepared to strip them away as your body warms. A good rule of thumb is that you should feel chilly when you step outdoors – if you’re cozy before you start riding, you’ll likely be boiling when you stop.

· Cover your extremities. All of us have experienced the extremes of a sweating torso and numb ears or toes. Don’t ignore your head, neck, hands, and feet when you bike. Comfortable stocking caps, scarves, socks, and gloves (which allow dexterity) should be considered. And goggles don’t just look cool; they’re great eye protection from the cold wind and road grit.

· Use 311. If you see a bicycle-related problem which involves plowing, shoveling, signing, or another traffic concern, call 311. The City relies on the public to flag problems. If you live outside of Minneapolis, call 612-673-3000. A Minneapolis bikeway maintenance responsibility list is available for more direct call routing.

· Use transit. When the going gets tough, give yourself a warm break by using the bus or train. All Metro Transit buses and trains are equipped with bicycle racks. Bike commuters are also eligible to sign up for Metro Transit’s Guaranteed Ride Home program, which provides free transit rides or cab fare reimbursement for emergencies (like a snow or ice storm).

· Look for more information. This is hardly the final say on winter bicycling. Any winter cyclist on Minneapolis streets probably has some good ideas, so go ahead and ask around. If you want to read on, visit www.icebike.org.

· Embrace winter. Our identity is shaped by our weather. Snow and cold temperatures add diversity and beauty to Minneapolis. Riding a bicycle in the winter can be exhilarating and practical. It keeps you in good health, it’s good for the environment, it’s cheap, and at times, it’s even the fastest mode of travel.

Live Google traffic reveals a fantastic view of metro traffic when it snows!

Metro traffic

And this just in:

@TwinCityScene: Via @Webster — Coworker reported freeway sign says: “I-94…. OVER 99 MINUTES.”

The epic-recession and social-collapse meme is big these days; from the Tea Party to apocalyptic movies, a sense of end-of-the-world urgency and populist anger permeates America. So what’s a humble advertising professional to do? If people think the whole damn system is a sham and it’s falling apart, how do advertisers sell them shit? Why, the same way they always have; by exploiting people’s beliefs.

All ads are based on propaganda and psychological manipulation techniques, but the latest round of “recession advertising” is especially genius. A billboard over I-35W for the Mall of America reads “the recession looks better in a new outfit”; a cigarette advert at a gas station prominently displays the words “you deserve a bailout too!” over a pictured pack of cigarettes, one coffin nail protruding invitingly.

The mall ad encourages the sort of mindset that got Americans into this mess in the first place: ignore the problems of the world, keep buying shit, and everything will be okay; shopping makes everything better; there are no consequences for consumption! The cigarette ad appeals to our sense of entitlement, which caused us, as individuals and a country, to take on piles of debt to perpetuate a lifestyle we couldn’t afford.

George Orwell couldn’t have devised a darker irony: corporations are trying to harness the anger and frustration at the unfolding slow-motion-train-wreck collapse of consumer culture to convince people to consume more. But the American consumer will tolerate any logical inconsistency, as long as it authorizes him or her to head to the mall and buy that new outfit.

Last week my trip through the mall was interrupted by the bellowing babble of a new breed of bible regurgitators. You may have seen these guys before. They were perched atop the Northrop Plaza facing outwards, sending their words out into the mall. With clean, glistening bald heads, sunglasses hiding their eyes, and snazzy corporate-esque workweek attire, they were armed only with their words.

Now standard protocol for this type of situation is to crank up Steve Miller Band on my iPod and let the “do do doo doo’s” of “Fly Like an Eagle” drown out the intruding words. But this time I decided to pop out my headphones, slow my pace, and absorb a snippet of their speech as I strolled by. I was immediately struck by their dialect. Though not quoting the bible directly, the diction and sentence structure sounded as if it came directly from one of the gospels. I felt as if I had been blasted by an overwhelming amount of salvation references: “And you shall be saved by the Lord our God”; “Our redeeming savior will come again.” The frequency of these references to the idea of being “saved” implied that these clean-cut preachers were here to rescue the lost, wandering souls of U of M students.

More eerie than their words was the manner in which they were delivered. By perching atop the Northrop plaza the men propped themselves up above the college students to whom they were speaking. The condescending tone of their words was physically represented in the situational context of their delivery. These mislead prophets only served to build up the religious barriers that separate us as humans.

There’s a long line of cars stretching all the way down and around the brownstones on University and Tenth. Many of these cars have been festooned with a variety of streamers, banners, glitter, paper mache animals, or swaying college students. Two blocks behind me is what appears to be a giant model of a mouse is heading up a flatbed truck packed to the brim with dancing coeds. Top 40 radio blares somewhere in the deep recesses of the mouse, giving it the bizarre illusion of speech. In front of them is a U of M mobility bus with a decidedly older and more responsible cadre of revelers. In front of us a squad of twenty or so students on NiceRide bikes do slow circles while we wait for the action to begin. The parade marshals seem mildly confused and wander haphazardly giving instructions to move forward and fill up gaps. Somehow we manage to fall in at the proper place between floats number 65 and 67. Our float begins it’s slow, jerking roll into the parade proper after a bit of finagling for position. Our driver’s more than a bit miffed that some of our float’s walk-behind crew ended up walking directly in front of the float, causing some hasty braking. But there’s no time for that, we’re off and quickly subsumed by the surprising amount of adoration from our school’s student body. The level of genuine excitement and spirit showed by the families and students of the University was so strong that even this cynical journalist managed to get swept up in it. A couple of scary moments where our precious speakers shut down in the middle of the parade threatened to derail the festivities but a little bit of Homecoming magic and cord jiggling got us all the way to the end of the concourse. As someone who can’t even be bothered to check the Gopher’s score online most weekends, it was a fascinating experience to take a journey into the beating, maroon and gold bleeding heart of our college. And you know what? I kind of liked it.

These reviews had to get cut down to fit into the spread. Here’s the uncut versions!

Kevin Tully

Ocrilim’s Purging Trilogy is something I can appreciate for what it is.

There’s not really much going on in the whole damn thing except guitar track over guitar track over guitar track times infinite. It’s basically 2 hours and 12 minutes of one dude playing guitar. Now, I have to say I’m totally in awe of anyone that can see a project of that magnitude to completion. Especially considering the fact that all 24 tracks sound different from one another. That’s fucking impressive, I don’t care what you’re into.

But is appreciating this behemoth of a trilogy the same as enjoying it? No. It’s not. Though I certainly found some enjoyment out of a couple tracks on this three-part epic (Namely Ixoltion Part III and “Annothrith Hymn 5″), they were few and far between. I understand why people like heavy-handed experimental musicians like Ocrilim. And shit, if this sort of music is your thing then you’re totally gonna love The Purging Trilogy. It’s just not MY thing.

I’m not asking for the two hours of my life I spent listening to it back, I’m just saying that I probably wouldn’t do it again.

Angela Sanders

For an album that is over two hours long, not a whole lot happens.

The Purging Trilogy is a huge undertaking for the listener, and while I can appreciate Barr’s technical skills as a guitarist, I cannot help but be dissatisfied with the product as a whole. Part 1, Ixoltion, has a constant drone in the background and not much layered on top of it. The potential for an epic album to match its epic name was there. So, I waited. And waited. And waited.

Nothing.

The same phenomenon occurred in part 2, Sacreth: the drone and the minor layering, but nothing that caught me off guard.

At least part three, Hymns, had some variety. But the technical aspect had lost its intrigue and I felt like I was listening to my life just hum by. Music should be more engaging than that.

Basically, The Purging Trilogy is a two-hour guitar solo: great for the guitarist, but a musical drone for listeners.

Peter Starkebaum

It all starts with a pain bearing, angst-spiked guitar with an accordion-like drawl during Purging Trilogy I: Ixoltion. That leads to an annoying buzzing bass draped in static infused white noise. However, in this horror there is an attraction; the notes feel sensitive and bare, the guitar alone gives me the feeling of an open nerve being sliced. But the noise cuts not so sharp as serrated, and it makes my ears wince. The longer I listen, the more my mind circulates with annoyance and frustration. As I write this I am listening to Part II of Ixoltion, and all I really want to do is punch a spinning fan.

Actually, a spinning fan might be a good image for the first part of the album, in which repetitive rifts further urged on my frustrated attitude. However, as the album revolves toward Purging Trilogy II: Sacreth, it becomes clear that the progression of the album will reflect human life: a mingling of pleasure and pain.

In this case, that powerful collision occurs with mercy when the percussion breaks in as a grounding force to the relentless shredding. Finally, the album’s chaotic mood seems to have found relieving stability.

And then the Annothrith Hymns begin. They seem like a ghostly reflection of I and II, and I feel an oddness of opposites while listening to them, like a steady heartbeat after two cups of coffee. In reflection, the Hymn’s felt like a romantic after thought to the Sacreth’s Industrial Revolution, where the rhythm attempted to tame the raw wild guitar chords. Ultimately, the Hymns ended the album in a complete way and left a clear impression that the album had a distinct direction.

Overall, the experience was heavy and epic; it provoked perspective and true emotion. But if someone asked me if I enjoyed the new album, I would have to say it was like picking a scab: it took some cold shivers and necessary pain to get in to the warm, sensitive and bloody.

Sage Dahlen

Ocrilim’s The Purging Trilogy is more than an album. All told, it clocks in at just over two hours and twelve minutes. Seeing as so much music consumption is measured in seconds, listening to this project is sort of a commitment.

What fills that time could be described as a soundtrack to a torrential rainstorm, or a migraine headache. It’s long, self-indulgent, unremarkable noodling with some badass grunge and metal riffs interspersed (I’ll save you some time – the best track is Part 3 of Part II, Sacreth).

Trilogy, however, is not long in a “I-want-my-life-back” way, because it never fully holds your attention. You can troll around on the Internet, or make dinner while Mick Barr twiddles his fingers over guitar strings.

But how much can you really ask for from a solo guitar project?

Zach McCormick

My journey into Ocrilim’s uniquely daunting Trilogies was not one I willingly gave my full attention to. I’ve never been much of a fan of experimental classically-influenced metal. I’ve never been much of a fan of either classical music or metal, for that matter. This process was, at some times, akin to aural invasion by tiny alien buzzsaw. It was not fun.

But, I, ladies and gentlemen, am a Journalist. And that means something goddamnit. So I’ll listen to all two and a half fucking hours of this thing if it kills me, because ethics are the only fucking thing that matters these days anyway.

Look, I’m not going to say that the album’s final screetching, feedbacking decent into silence wasn’t the best thing to happen to me all night. I basically did everything I could to hold back the sweet tears of joy. But this is a legitimate work of music here people, and we have to treat it as such. Ocrilim may be the Public Enemy Number One within my auditory cortex, but he deserves a fair shake like everyone else, and I’ll be the man to give it to him.

This is actually a trilogy of Albums by the virtuousic solo guitarist Mick Barr. The first album being Part I: Ioxoltion and the second being Part II: Sacreth and you can see where this is going. Sacreth has a drum machine (the other two are solo guitar) and contains the album’s only highlight: “Part 4”. The rest of these songs, while all virtuosic and technical and lofty, really aren’t all that engaging. Great playing simply does not equal great album, and this record will really only appeal to diehard genre fans, who will probably love it because it’s a masterpiece. Everyone else is going to run in horror away from the mental sandpaper that is layer upon layer of buzzing, treble heavy guitar constantly switching tempo and time. If Rachmaninov had been raised in a stoner metal band, this is probably what he would have come up with.

So if you enjoy this sort of posturingly virtuosic playing from a fellow who probably spent many long hours pouring the midnight oil over at the music school, by all means, Trilogies is probably album of the year for you. For the rest of us however, it’s a droning torturous mess of buzz and pretense.

Tom Waits fans rejoice; Heath Ledger fans pay your respects. Both, for sure, should head to the theater to see director Terry Gilliam’s The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus. Yes, it is rated PG-13, but here Gilliam has successfully created a reflective, mature, and narratively sophisticated movie that didn’t need to tone itself down to garner the box office boosting rating from the MPAA. It is only showing at the Lagoon Theatre in Uptown, and you had better get there quickly because it probably will not run much longer—and it’s surely a film best seen on the big screen: the standout aspect of the film is its visual appeal. This is an imaginarium we are buying into, after all. The actual imaginarium is quite beautifully imagined and depicted, and The Imaginarium is worth seeing for these creative and, yes, imaginative special effects alone. Or you could go see Avatar for the second (or third) time, but in that world will be felt a staggering lack of Tom Waits.

Finally, somebody cast Tom Waits as the Devil. As in Lucifer, the son of perdition, the tempter. Here, he is called Mr. Nick, a No. 2-mustachioed, top-hatted, cigarette smoking villain. Waits’ lines take on the distinct, timeless quality of a man not of this world, and his performance drives the comedic playfulness of the film, providing it with its most memorable dialogue. He plagues the life of the powerful Dr. Parnassus, a former mage/monk turned alcoholic mobile sideshow street attraction proprietor and performer. Parnassus (Christopher Plummer) is tragically flawed: he likes to gamble, and his usual opponent accepts nothing but the juiciest of stakes. The great doctor’s past catches up with him and he and his sideshow crew, with the dubious aid of Heath Ledger and company, must out-magic the Devil while dealing with their own stressed relationships and dreams of life beyond the imaginarium circuit.

The film, due to the untimely death of the talented Heath Ledger, had to undergo plot alterations which at times convolute an already fantastical story. As a Gilliam film it was never going to be easy to follow or entirely preoccupied with plot resolution and clarity, but the extra layer added by a character whose face repeatedly changes—for the other characters as well as for the audience—cannot be said to be smooth, but despite the fact that it is clearly unplanned, this does not detract from the narrative too strongly, and the situation lends to the film the chance for Johnny Depp, Colin Farrell, and Jude Law to play short parts, paying tribute as fill-ins for Ledger in the scenes he left unfinished.

It is not a movie for everyone, but for every Terry Gilliam, Heath Ledger, Tom Waits, or anything-but-the-same-crap-movie fan, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus should be a treat.

“It’s time for the warmest wishes…and eating your illegitimate children.”

Were there just not enough photos to choose from or was this really the best?

Finals week is coming and with the catchy acronyms comes the realization that many of us have fourteen plus weeks of learning to do before December 17th. Long hours in the library are tedious at best, but the deafening silence can make any extended stay at Walter downright unbearable. If you need a theme song to your finals study experience, look no further than the Kruder & Dorfmeister remix of “Useless” by Depeche Mode.

Finding its place in the first half of the stunning K & D Sessions, “Useless” is a slice of downtempo bliss that even those unfamiliar with the genre will appreciate. With a beat that deftly tiptoes the fine line between overwhelming and shallow and a bassline that is fluid beyond all words, “Useless” is a song that radiates calm focus. It is not dense and distracting but is engaging enough to keep you conscious during a marathon study session.

Like the best of Brian Eno’s work, “Useless” doubles as good background music and remains engaging when given a deeper listen. The mix is open, but where this can sometimes lead to monotony, “Useless” has enough subtlety that it remains entertaining. As is characteristic of trip-hop, “Useless” is a song of loops, but these loops are interesting, making them appear as more than parts on repeat.

If “Useless” proves anything it is that Kruder & Dorfmeister may very well be the most talented production team in the trip-hop scene. They are able to temper the wilder sides of their genre with more accessible elements without bastardizing their art. “Useless” is an incredible song, a true testament to the great things a couple of producers with a pile of studio equipment can do. For those looking to stave off the insanity that inevitably accompanies long hours in the library, “Useless” is the song for you.

let’s be honest…we have been spoiled with good weather. now, as winter is biting hard and finals are drawing near, any cause to smile is a good one. here is one i found…enjoy!

the muppets sing queen’s “bohemian rhapsody”