The action horror film “Blade 2” sneaked up on the box office this weekend, and according to Sunday’s estimates, grossed an incredible $33.1 million. The film’s massive opening is a personal best for lead actor Wesley Snipes and the second largest ever for March. Word of mouth on the film is strong, as director Guillermo del Toro set out to deliver a kinetically violent film that would rival the original film and the Marvel Comics’ from which the franchise is based.

Tom Green’s debatable masterpiece “Freddy Got Fingered” took top honors as the best film…in the worst film of the year category at the 22nd Annual Razzie Awards. The Razzies, known for being the anti-Oscars, divvy out awards each year in categories that are synonymous with worst film, actor and actress among others. Green, who also took the nod for worst actor, is the only performer in Razzie history to collect his awards in person. Pop singer Mariah Carey was named worst actress for her skanky performance in the mega-flop “Glitter.”
The Roots, whose drummer ?uestlove spinned at Churchill’s Pub last Saturday, have finished recording a song entitled “Feel This” that criticizes Nas. Nas reportedly expressed anger when the Roots performed the beat to his song “NY State of Mind” on rival Jay-Z’s MTV unplugged special. Whether the new track will show up on the Roots’ upcoming album is unknown.
Andy Richter took control over the minds of millions of television viewers with the debut of his new Fox show “Andy Richter Controls the Universe.” The show’s premiere was watched by more than 9 million people, the majority being young adults and teenagers, who probably watched Richter when he was a sidekick for late night talk show host Conan O’Brien. In the show, Richter plays a short story author with a humorously wild imagination.
Steven Seagal, the semi-smooth Kung-fu master/joke and star of films like “Under Siege 2:Dark Territory” will soon have to use his “skills” to fend of a $60 million lawsuit and a probable gang of lawyers. Seagal is being sued by a former partner, who claims that Seagal backed out of four cinematic gifts to the world, including “Blood On the Moon” and “Smash and Grab,” after taking the advice of his Buddhist guru.

I am from Seattle.

There you go: immediate coffee connoisseur status.

So it only makes sense that I would be one of the first people through the doors to inspect the new two-story Starbucks on Sunset Drive, across from the Shops at Sunset Place.

After three years in making, Starbucks’ latest location is doubtless its best in Miami.

Here’s why.

Location

The location is always key when selecting a good coffee shop. The new Starbucks lies on Sunset Drive-a street busy enough to keep you interested in people-watching, if that’s your thing. But it doesn’t have cars ripping past you at 60 miles per hour.

“That’s the main drawback of the South Dixie Starbucks,” said Janet Kennard, an avid Starbucks customer. “Cars on U.S. 1 are flying past you, and they’re only like 10 feet away. It so loud.”

The South Dixie Starbucks is located across U.S. 1 from the main University of Miami entrance.

Also, located close to the Shops at Sunset Place, customers can enjoy the mall while sipping a vanilla latte or any other drink.

Atmosphere

I think it’s a basic principle of life: why have one of something, when you could have two instead? Well the new Starbucks proves this credo true once again, tacking on an extra floor to their newest location.

The bottom floor can accommodate 29 patrons inside and contains the coffee bar and the restrooms. As I walked in, the sunlight illuminated a nearly translucent mural that covers the large window behind the register, filling the room with an abundance of natural light.

The main floor also boasts, what I am dubbing, the best outdoor caf

Key visionaries exist within the progressive celerity of hip hop’s style and growth who rarely attempt a freestyle or spend their time mastering a crab scratch. Instead, their thoughts are occupied with conceptions of imagery and design that will pave the divergent future of urban fashion.

Hip hop’s surging popularity and lucrative potential has spawned a slew of “urban” clothing companies that are seemingly hatched on a daily basis. Many enter the market with an uninspired label, self-proclaimed hip hop authenticity and a $20- plus price tag, while a select few strive to light up your mind and kindle social change; to preserve and nurture the roots that this lifestyle was founded upon.

Paul Gnu, the founder of Counterpoint Garments, undoubtedly rocks the latter Mr. Miyagi-esque business sense. A native of New York, Gnu “fired the first shots at the urban world of fashion in 1992, from the republic of Brooklyn,” and his bold screen prints now grasp peoples’ attention from Florida to Japan.

The purpose behind his company’s semi-militant designs, which don names like “Phone Tap” and “Population Control,” aspires to undermine alleged political agendas and connote the past, present and future of the black experience in America.

“Once you wear a Counterpoint shirt you’re making a statement, if you’re not doing it because of that then you’re ones of those dudes that wears any shirt, you know, put on a shirt, get a pack of cigarettes and that’s it,” said Gnu, during an interview on the University Center patio.

Skating in his teens, Gnu, now 30, was turned onto the infinite power of the T-shirt by the abstract, electric artwork of legendary skater/artists like Neil Blender and Foundation’s Tod Swank; their innovative and free-thinking works brazened numerous skateboard decks and T-shirts in the early and mid 1980s with messages against the mundanity of suit life.

“At that time, me being a part of hip hop and then going into skateboarding was sort of different,” Gnu said. “It was still coming about, then it was traditionally punk rock.”

His interest in design, however, wouldn’t become a substantial reality until 1992, when he printed his first Counterpoint shirt, with a “fresh” design entitled “Counterpoint Blunt,” which played off of the reveled Phillie Blunts logo. Fortunately, Gnu strayed away from novelty and “Cross Colors cheese,” and took notice of prints that reflected the turbulent social atmosphere around him.

“The first T-shirt that caught my mind consciously was Spike Lee’s ’40 acres and a mule,’ that he did for his films,” Gnu said. “He had a store in Brooklyn, right next to Brooklyn Tech., where he would sell his shirts, and not far from that was this other store called Sticks and Stones that sold a lot of conscious books and t-shirts, just a lot of cool stuff.”

Making shirts that spoke directly to and for his minority communities meant that the shirts would probably garner less apprehension outside of New York. Gnu also wanted Counterpoint’s message to be powerfully candid, so he decided to cut out the middleman and purchase the printing equipment he needed to avoid artistic restrictions inclined to mass production operations. “Imported from Brooklyn” became stitched into the tag of every shirt, while “no sellout” became stitched into the mentality.

The expansion of hip hop throughout the 1990s and into the now allows Gnu to move product overseas and observe how both hip hop culture and Americanization are being cultivated outside of their birthplace. A recent stint in Japan left him with the general impression that urban fashion lines in America are stagnant by comparison.

“We’re so behind over here. We think our market’s saturated, where in Japan everything’s moving three times faster. It’s like, once you’re already known, you’re already forgotten. Your company really has to be a stigma, the place is just like a big giant advertisement.”

Gnu also found humor and relief in the way people in Japan went about buying his gear. “They buy with the intent of buying, if that’s the price that’s the price. They don’t haggle; it’s just like ‘oi!’ and that’s it, and I can respect that,” he laughed.

In the past, Counterpoint has released prints that allude to war metaphorically, the inner city survival themed “Brooknam,” and literally; “G.I. Bro” targets the history of minority soldiers fighting for the causes of the ruling class only to be discriminated against when they return.

Regarding the ongoing “war on terrorism,” Gnu said that he is still viewing it from a distant corner of skepticism and has no plans for Counterpoint to issue designs referencing the tragedies.

“If the question is if there’s a time, then yes, but is this the time? No, because tensions are still too high and people are just taking what the media tells them,” he said. “Everybody’s programmed to say bin Laden did it, but honestly we’re not sure. As Americans we’re just following what our government tells us.”

As Counterpoint continues to strike out at the political jugular, Gnu admits that this nation’s freedoms are what afford his company the opportunity to do so.

“America is a great country. This is the land where you can say whatever the hell you want to say about your government,” he said. “But then our government also has the right to destroy you if you step out of the so-called line, step outta that box, or if you’re just talking too much and making people step out of that box, they know how to put you right down. But we’re basically free to protest or do whatever we want.”

There are many rappers, part time activists and urban companies that talk about leading a revolution to overthrow some vague establishment and encourage youth to lead a society where equality, information and independence flourish. Yet, when the time comes to show and prove their gung-ho voices promoting change, they are silenced by big money contracts that have creative restrictions, sweatshop labor and conformity written in the fine print.

Companies like Counterpoint Garments go against the grain and sacrifice the riches that are currently being mined from hip hop to provoke thought. Sure, it will take more than one clothing company and a bunch of T-shirts to stop oppression, racism and even glossy fish eyed rap videos. But this is a revolution of idealism that is older than all of us and one that takes guts to pursue. It is one that may have no foreseeable end, but the struggle to get there is arguably just as beneficial and productive. Appreciate honest and complex expression or support the commercial, plastic copy of it. Gnu has chosen to express the former affiliation as a career via urban fashion.

As Counterpoint’s slogan entails, “Now we pass the loaded weapon of consciousness to you.”

Mexican author Carlos Fuentes once said Latin America is in a continuous battle with its past. For Latin America, much like human beings, loathes the concept of responsibility. Self-deception seems to be endemic to the region-particularly when it comes to confronting the demons of its civil wars.

Those responsible for the atrocities deny they ever occurred, much less that they carried them out. Victims have yet to be vindicated or able to express the complexity of their grief. Those who stood idly by carry an unbearable guilt. Many want to openly discuss what happened but don’t know how; most want to forget it and move on.

These are the issues at the heart of Mario Diament’s latest theatrical work, Smithereens, a play that explores the emotional aftermath of Argentina’s ruthless six-year dictatorship. The military juntas that ruled Argentina between 1976 and 1982 murdered nearly 30,000 people, many of whom were never found. (Coincidentally, Sunday marked the 26 anniversary of the 1976 coup.)

Diament, a renowned Argentine playwright and journalist who worked as an editor for the renowned opposition paper La Opinion, uses his characters to represent the different factions of Argentine society.

David Rabinovich (David Mann), a journalist who fled Argentina as the first military junta unleashed its wave of terror, represents those who fled and remained oblivious to the horrific repressive campaigns carried out by the juntas. Gone for nearly 17 years, David is consumed by guilt as he learns of the atrocities committed by the regime.

Claudia Gonzalez (Marcy Ruderhausen), a human rights activist and member of the left, embodies the many tortured victims of the regime. Claudia is emotionally numb, unable to speak about her experience in the famed Olimpo.

Sergio D’Alessandro (Paul Tei) is a frustrated filmmaker and David’s best friend. After the government refused to give him grants to finance his documentaries, Sergio agrees to become the military’s propaganda filmmaker in exchange for Claudia’s safety and eventual freedom. Sergio represents those who negotiated such risky pacts with the regime to protect their families, friends and themselves, and later lived to regret it.

The play takes place in the apartment of Sergio and Claudia in early 1990s Buenos Aires, just days after David’s sudden return from Israel. His visit serves as a catalyst, for all three are forced to confront their pain, their guilt, and challenge their emotional capability to forgive themselves and each other. (On a lesser level, David’s visit resurfaces old resentments between the two men, as Claudia has been a lover and friend to both-and continues to love them both.)

Claudia recounts-for the first time-the torture sessions she endured. David is forced to acknowledge took the easy way out because he was afraid of making difficult moral decisions.

Sergio, outcast, frustrated, and an alcoholic, wants them to acknowledge he too was a victim and be forgiven for flailing.

The play’s stellar performer is Mann. His delivery-his body language and his tone-is charged with emotion. Mann makes us feel David’s cowardice when he tells Claudia he is leaving because he wants to avoid taking a stand. We sense his tenderness when he caresses Claudia, and feel his guilt for abandoning his friends.

Ruderhausen’s performance is weak in the first act. She comes across as somewhat overly nervous. But her performance takes a turn for the positive in the second act. She infuses her character with emotion, specifically when confesses to David’s father she revealed the name of several colleagues during some of her torture sessions. Her most moving moment is when tells David and Sergio she loves them and urges them to pick up the “smithereens” of their souls and forgive so as to rebuild the innocence and peace of which they were robbed.

Tei’s cocky filmmaker is hard to warm up to in the first act; he is terribly arrogant and Diament keeps us guessing about the role he played in Claudia’s imprisonment. But toward the end of the play, he humanizes Sergio. His performance, however, is not as profound as that of his colleagues.

Supporting the main cast are Paul Kwiat, who plays Jacob Rabinovich, David’s father and a Holocaust survivor, and Ken Clement, who plays the colonel, the fascist officer with whom Sergio negotiates Claudia’s freedom. But unbeknownst to Sergio, the colonel repeatedly rapes and tortures Claudia. Both of their performances are extremely strong. Clement’s torture scene is particularly disturbing, yet moving.

The script undoubtedly sounds better in its original language, Spanish, as the English translation does not capture the emotions the way a Spanish-language production would. Also, at times the script it lightly hampered by unnecessary clich