Maybe you had the good fortune to walk by a flyer for the show. Maybe you happened to drive by the show?s venue and saw the band?s name on the marquee.
At some point in every great actor's career, he must begin to face his own mortality. For Clint Eastwood, that point is approaching faster than a runaway stagecoach.
Early July I'm up in the Chronicle office and, surprise, U2 isn't blaring out like the perpetual sermon, but instead WXDU sends me a sign.
It's that time--when your mind recedes into a pool of slack, stagnant, foul water, disturbed only by the most remote stimuli. The waters may ripple, but they quickly settle.
When Coldplay burst onto the music scene a couple years ago, they were seen as only the latest in a series of British bands heralded as the next Radiohead.
Here's a shocker: Popular icons may be more invention than individual; at times they aren't real at all.
The final nail has yet to be pushed into the wooded casket, but the demise is eminent: Duke's on-campus social scene is effectively dead.
Although it's often hidden, Duke's on-campus theater community is one of the nation's strongest among liberal arts colleges, ranging from faculty-directed shows with lush production values to plays...
Being a Sleater-Kinney fanboy is close to what it must be like to grow up with a much older and radder sister.
Wanna keep an alternacountry geek busy for a few hours? Mention Uncle Tupelo and see if he doesn't talk your ear off.
Searching for that fourth class to keep you sane between Econ, PPS and Stats? For those of you too lazy to click on the Special Topics courses on ACES, Arts Editor Vicki Kaplan has hunted down...
Between its bickering judges, questionable voting practices and prepackaged wannabe stars, American Idol has become the runaway pop culture phenomenon of the summer.
Jennifer Aniston couldn't have done it alone. Sure, Mrs. Pitt's performance in The Good Girl won rave reviews, a Sundance standing ovation and the cover of August Vogue.
orget the galaxy far, far away; forget spiderwebs in the streets of New York; forget the alien landing strips in rural Pennsylvania; and please forget would-be spies with mojo--the real action this...
Remember when Michael Jackson told Billie Jean that the kid was not his son? I don't know about you, but I never found that particularly difficult to believe.
I remember so many early mornings spent in front of the television, Pop-Tart and bowl of Cookie Crisp in hand... Voltron, Transformers, Rainbow Brite and best of all, Scooby-Doo.
Ten billion dollars. Believe it or not, that's the figure box office gurus are eyeing for the year 2002 in movies, and it's this summer's unusually strong batch that has execs seeing 11 figures.
We are the Disney generation. Weaned on the classics and spoon-fed the spinoffs, we lived and died by the annual summer injection of fresh animania.
ne of the first things people said to me after I had been accepted to college was, "Have you picked out your sheets yet?" Apparently there is some ceremonial...
ocated deep in the heart of Chapa Thrill, the Lantern Restaurant artfully explores the white-hot Asian fusion craze.
