2011年10月26日星期三
$129 & up -- 4-Diamond Resort at Yosemite, 45% Off*
Take in fresh mountain air at a AAA 4-Diamond resort just two miles from Yosemite National Park's entrance while saving 45% on current prices. This deal also includes a discount of 20% on all services at the resort's newly opened spa.
For $129 per night, travel Sunday-Thursday Oct. 30 - Dec. 15, or visit Sunday-Thursday Oct. 2-27 for $169 nightly. Weekends are also discounted starting at $50 more.
Tenaya Lodge offers many outdoor activities such as nature hikes and mountain biking, as well as several on-site dining options ranging from casual to upscale. This time of year offers fewer crowds, making popular attractions such as Yosemite Valley and Glacier Point less busy. It is one hour from Fresno and four hours from San Francisco and Sacramento.
2011年10月24日星期一
A 'Crazy' little thing called love
Fittingly, it began with a date.
Last year, Anton Yelchin, 21 and coming off his performance as Chekov in the film "Star Trek," was sitting nervously in the bar of a Mexican restaurant in Los Angeles, waiting for a woman five years his senior. On a flight from London, his dinner companion, the British actress Felicity Jones, was also trying to squelch the butterflies. "I remember thinking, 'I just hope he's a good guy,'" she recalled.
The two were indeed rendezvousing to see whether they'd make a good couple — only not in real life. Yelchin and Jones had been offered the lead roles in a romantic drama called "Like Crazy," and they needed to get acquainted — fast. Barring a hitch, they'd be spending the next few months together as a love-bitten young couple. And they'd do it without a script.
So how did they get through their awkward encounter?
"Three tequilas," Jones said, giggling. Yelchin nodded slowly, a smirk on his face.
Those tentative, tipsy first steps soon turned into an exhaustive rehearsal session, an unconventional movie shoot and, now, an improbable turn in the Hollywood limelight. Made far outside the studio system for $250,000 by a scrappy production company called Crispy Films and directed by a largely unknown filmmaker, Drake Doremus, then 27, "Like Crazy" became an unexpected sensation at this year's Sundance Film Festival. Screenings brought tears to the eyes of otherwise jaded festivalgoers, the movie won Sundance's top prize, and distributors went gaga for it. Paramount Pictures and the production company Indian Paintbrush offered the winning bid, shelling out an estimated $4 million for the right to release it. Paramount is opening the film in Los Angeles and New York on Friday.
Those Utah audiences may have been on to something. Big-screen relationship stories run the gamut from the heartwrenching breakup film ("Blue Valentine") to the sappy fairy tale ("Valentine's Day"). "Like Crazy" carves out a subtle place between those heavily weighted poles. A tone poem as much as a conventional dialogue-driven piece, the film portrays romance with meaningful glances and shy smiles more than with hyper-verbal expressions of love. Even tension comes less in the form of argument as quiet chasms of disagreement.
"When we were first shooting, our first instinct was to talk as much as possible," Yelchin said. "And then by the end of the process we realized it's all about silence."
The plot for "Like Crazy" is straightforward. After meeting in an undergraduate English class, the literary-minded Brit Anna (Jones) and the gentle American furniture builder Jacob (Yelchin) embark on a tender romance that sends them over the moon. But after Anna impulsively decides to overstay her visa to spend the summer with her new love, she is plunged into a legal quagmire that keeps the couple an ocean apart for much of the next few years. As they try to resolve the visa issue, the pair tangle with more emotionally charged subjects, at first clinging to their idealism but eventually entering relationships with other people (played by Charlie Bewley and Jennifer Lawrence).
In real life, Yelchin and Jones are a lot more outgoing than the emo characters they portray. In a conversation at the Toronto International Film Festival last month and in separate interviews last week, she giggled a lot, and he peppered his answers with wisecracks. The Russian-born, L.A.-raised Yelchin is used to the spotlight: He's had meaty on-screen roles since his teenage years, coming to prominence in the 2006 Nick Cassavetes drama "Alpha Dog" and starring recently in big Hollywood productions such as "Terminator Salvation," "The Beaver" and of course aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise. The London-based Jones has mostly toiled in television and film across the pond, particularly in period pieces such as "Chéri" and "Brideshead Revisited."
After the evening with their pal Jose Cuervo, Yelchin and Jones began driving around L.A., visiting Barnes & Noble and getting to know each other. Then they started rehearsing — a grueling week in which they spent all day and often all night conversing with each other and Doremus about Anna and Jacob's relationship. They filmed the movie in and around Los Angeles, mostly in sequence, a rarity that allowed for their off-screen relationship to evolve in step with their on-screen one. (They are not, it should be said, romantically involved in real life.)
Little was put down on paper; instead, Doremus would offer only general guidance about the emotional beats he wanted. Then he might, for instance, set them loose in Santa Monica with a camera trailing behind them, and they would run on the beach or pop into a candy store or do other things people do when they're falling in love.
And when they shot indoors, particularly in the bedroom, the director would often ask the crew to leave so the pair could feel comfortable in their attempt to create intimacy. The scenes would then stretch from five to 10 to 30 minutes, the only interruption coming when the director would pop his head under the covers to whisper encouragement. "I tried only to do that if I needed to," Doremus admitted.
As they shot these scenes, Jones and Yelchin would try a mind-boggling array of lines and moods. "There are so many things I say in the movie that I have no recollection of saying," Jones said.
Doremus previously directed 2010's male-centered dating comedy "Douchebag," which garnered some though not nearly as much buzz at Sundance before flopping upon release. A filmmaker rooted in comedy — his mother was a founding member of L.A.'s legendary Groundlings group — Doremus decided to import some of that genre's improvisational techniques to a drama. "For me, it's all about getting that truth. And you get that in the moments when you just let an actor go, especially at the end of a scene, when they're more likely to let their guard down." The goal was to capture the fragile hope of youth without the sugarcoating or, for that matter, the happy ending of most movies.
"There are some funny lines, no?" Jones said.
"No, it's pretty much a downer," Yelchin demurs.
Doremus actually based the story loosely on his own experience with a long-distance relationship. The actors too said their own real-life romances shaped their characters.
Yelchin recently broke up with a girlfriend. Like Jacob, he was doing the long-distance thing, and Yelchin said he saw in his character the issues of his own globe-trotting life. "With this job, you always have long-distance relationships, and if you're not capable of dealing with the worst parts of yourself that it brings out, your relationship starts to sour very quickly," he said.
Jones came from the opposite direction. She's been dating her boyfriend, the British artist Ed Fornieles, for years. Like Anna, she said, she and her beau battle to maintain the promise of their early courtship. "I think it's a universal situation: It's the struggle of meeting someone and being completely intoxicated by them, and then how do you sustain that," she said.
As they've promoted their movie they've found others responding to those elements too. "It's about young people, but I've had people of all ages come up to me and tell me about their first love," Yelchin said. "I've had a lot of middle-aged women come up to me, actually."
Jonathan Schwartz, a principal at Crispy Films, said that the resonance has surprised him. "It's a small underdog film, but it turns out that it's also very broad because, really, who hasn't been in love?" said the producer, whose movies are primarily backed by the Wilf family, principal owners of the NFL's Minnesota Vikings.
"Like Crazy" shares similarities with "(500) Days of Summer," another relationship movie that tried to go beyond the Hollywood gloss. And while this film is primarily a serious affair without the hipster irony of "Summer," that may prove an advantage with audiences. "There's no gimmick. There's no trick," Jones said. "It's just a very simple story that's very simply told." She added: "I think people are ready for something different."
2011年10月19日星期三
2G Reform for Indian Telecom
Indian telecom was once an example of the economic dynamism that could be unleashed by a reform-minded government. Today, it has become a national embarrassment. A scandal over the sale of mobile phone spectrum has landed businessmen and politicians in prison and thrown the country into a frenzy over corruption.
Telecom in India took off in the early 2000s because regulation pointed the right way. In 1999 the state took away the government's stranglehold on the market and gave private players the chance to compete on an equal footing. It also decreased costs for firms. Innovations and low-cost services followed, allowing the number of mobile subscribers to reach an astonishing 850 million today from fewer than six million in 2001.
But as soon as telecom became lucrative, politicians and regulators were tempted to intervene again. In 2008, then-Telecom Minister Andimuthu Raja decided to sell second-generation or 2G mobile spectrum on a first-come, first-served basis at below-market rates, instead of the open auction many in government favored. Prosecutors allege that Mr. Raja rigged the sale to favor a few firms in exchange for bribes, a charge he denies.
The case became a national scandal last year when the government auditor reported that the Telecom Ministry's methods cost the exchequer $39 billion in revenue, making it the largest scam in India's history. Mr. Raja has since resigned and is under arrest, along with his political associates, awaiting trial.
Now New Delhi is trying to come to grips with the problem with a new draft telecom policy, unveiled last week. On the plus side, the policy would boost the market's price discovery of spectrum in a number of ways, including by allowing private players to share and trade frequencies among each other. The government also plans to increase available spectrum for next-generation technologies.
But these benefits are undercut by existing rules that manage competition, which prevent new operators from selling their licenses or merging with others in the first three years of getting a license. Last week's plan does little to remove this regulatory impediment.
The new policy also fails to address the regulatory and tax uncertainty faced by foreign investors. This year, U.S.-based Qualcomm saw its application for a license to provide Internet services rejected, after having already paid for the spectrum. The government says the application wasn't filed in time, though the company contends it followed guidelines; yesterday, regulators finally granted the license. The government is also battling U.K. telecom operator Vodafone over $2.5 billion in capital gains taxes that didn't accrue within India, the first case of its kind.
It's progress when a government understands that if a scarce natural resource—spectrum, in this case—isn't priced transparently, the economy will see gross inefficiencies and more instances of corruption. But New Delhi isn't helping matters by trying to stand in the way of market consolidation at a time when profit margins are being squeezed and investment in telecoms has plummeted.
The government can resolve these problems by setting clear, simple rules while selling spectrum at market prices. The last time it took this route, in the late 1990s, it created a telecom revolution. It can do it again.
2011年10月16日星期日
In Egypt, young and tech-savvy Islamists try to project new image
Reporting from Cairo—
Bearded and feeling misunderstood, Mohamed Tolba made a movie to tell the world he is not a terrorist.
"Where's My Ear?" is a satire on the colliding passions and deep suspicions between liberals and ultraconservative Muslims like him, known as Salafis, who have become a pronounced political voice in the new Egypt. The short film has gotten more than 80,000 hits on YouTube and has made Tolba a celebrity and a curiosity among the Koran set.
The plot is simple: A liberal invites a Salafi to his home in a comedy of errors and misperceptions. The liberal offers tea but the Salafi, whose beliefs forbid alcohol, suspects it's spiked with vodka. The Salafi, convinced that the liberal is scheming to have him arrested, searches the living room for hidden surveillance cameras.
The playful yet earnest clip is the work of a group of young Salafis who are keeping their traditional beards and religious piety but are showing a hip, socially conscious facet to soften the brimstone of their clerics.
It is a perplexing terrain. Tolba has received angry text messages accusing him of betraying Islam while he has also endured wary glances and whispered asides from secularists.
Before President Hosni Mubarak was toppled in February, "it was not safe for a bearded guy to walk in the street, ride a bus or eat in a restaurant," Tolba said. "The media blamed Salafis for terrorist attacks. We became isolated, a whole separate world. But when Mubarak went away, this bubble collapsed."
Ultraconservatives and more moderate Muslim Brotherhood followers are vibrant forces in a political Islam that is indigenous yet often splintered and undefined after decades of suppression. The extremist elements of this revival, with their calls for banning bikinis at tourist resorts, abolishing banks, breaking Egypt's peace treaty with Israel and establishing an Islamic caliphate, have rattled liberals and fed Western misgivings.
The potency of sectarianism has sharpened since Mubarak's fall. It grew more disturbing this week when at least 20 Christian Copts were killed in clashes with soldiers and thugs during a protest over the burning of a church in southern Egypt. The violence, which included Muslim men attacking Christians with stones and sticks, revealed the simmering religious passions that can easily be manipulated by Islamic fundamentalists.
Religion's pull on political life in Egypt will affect Islamist movements in other nations seized by revolution and change, such as Tunisia, Yemen and Libya. Flowing through the discourse are questions on modernism, democracy and how young generations with lives drenched in Western technologies and images will merge Islam with the political aspirations of the so-called Arab Spring.
Tolba, a heavyset telecom sales manager with rimless glasses, wants to calm the clamor as his increasingly divided country bickers over a new constitution.
"Yes, we want Islamic influence in the constitution, but we want fair laws without intimidation," said Tolba, 32. "If people decide that sharia will not rule, we will accept that."
He has a wry sense of humor and mischievous wit. Many Egyptians, he said, suffer from "Salaphobia: They don't think we smile or joke."
Tolba and other young ultraconservatives founded Salafyo Costa, named for the Western-style cafe they frequent. The movement is similar to efforts by secular activists to break with the established order and create a progressive generation of political and religious leaders.
"We're trying something brand-new," said Tolba, who studied at the American University in Cairo and speaks flawless English. "The stereotype is that the Salafi belongs to the lower classes and has a poor education. That doesn't represent the way we in Costa's Salafis look, behave or look at the future."
But Salafis have been at the center of disturbing scenes, including the deadly May burning of a Coptic Christian church in Cairo and a recent protest in which tens of thousands of Salafis demanded a strict Islamic state. Public statements by Salafi elders bristle with cultural and religious intolerance and fears that liberals want to turn Egypt into Sodom and Gomorrah.
Unlike the Muslim Brotherhood, the Salafis, literalists in following the Koran, have no rigid organizational structure. Their belief that Islam must permeate all segments of life makes them less adept at political compromise even though they can turn hundreds of thousands out to vote. Tolba is trying to improve this image.
"The masses have found themselves a bit lost" since the revolution, Tolba said. "The spirit of Tahrir Square is fading away.... Our main goal is unity. Nobody is working to bring liberals and Islamists together. We stand in the middle and push politics aside."
One of Salafyo Costa's coming-out parties, so to speak, was a small but symbolic gesture.
"Who are the people who hate Salafis the most? The Christians," he said. "We called for a football match with a Christian team. We wanted to play on church grounds, but the church was scared and suspicious. We found a private field. Surprisingly, we were scared, and they were scared because they thought they were playing with monsters."
Reporting from Cairo—
Bearded and feeling misunderstood, Mohamed Tolba made a movie to tell the world he is not a terrorist.
"Where's My Ear?" is a satire on the colliding passions and deep suspicions between liberals and ultraconservative Muslims like him, known as Salafis, who have become a pronounced political voice in the new Egypt. The short film has gotten more than 80,000 hits on YouTube and has made Tolba a celebrity and a curiosity among the Koran set.
The plot is simple: A liberal invites a Salafi to his home in a comedy of errors and misperceptions. The liberal offers tea but the Salafi, whose beliefs forbid alcohol, suspects it's spiked with vodka. The Salafi, convinced that the liberal is scheming to have him arrested, searches the living room for hidden surveillance cameras.
The playful yet earnest clip is the work of a group of young Salafis who are keeping their traditional beards and religious piety but are showing a hip, socially conscious facet to soften the brimstone of their clerics.
It is a perplexing terrain. Tolba has received angry text messages accusing him of betraying Islam while he has also endured wary glances and whispered asides from secularists.
Before President Hosni Mubarak was toppled in February, "it was not safe for a bearded guy to walk in the street, ride a bus or eat in a restaurant," Tolba said. "The media blamed Salafis for terrorist attacks. We became isolated, a whole separate world. But when Mubarak went away, this bubble collapsed."
Ultraconservatives and more moderate Muslim Brotherhood followers are vibrant forces in a political Islam that is indigenous yet often splintered and undefined after decades of suppression. The extremist elements of this revival, with their calls for banning bikinis at tourist resorts, abolishing banks, breaking Egypt's peace treaty with Israel and establishing an Islamic caliphate, have rattled liberals and fed Western misgivings.
The potency of sectarianism has sharpened since Mubarak's fall. It grew more disturbing this week when at least 20 Christian Copts were killed in clashes with soldiers and thugs during a protest over the burning of a church in southern Egypt. The violence, which included Muslim men attacking Christians with stones and sticks, revealed the simmering religious passions that can easily be manipulated by Islamic fundamentalists.
Religion's pull on political life in Egypt will affect Islamist movements in other nations seized by revolution and change, such as Tunisia, Yemen and Libya. Flowing through the discourse are questions on modernism, democracy and how young generations with lives drenched in Western technologies and images will merge Islam with the political aspirations of the so-called Arab Spring.
Tolba, a heavyset telecom sales manager with rimless glasses, wants to calm the clamor as his increasingly divided country bickers over a new constitution.
"Yes, we want Islamic influence in the constitution, but we want fair laws without intimidation," said Tolba, 32. "If people decide that sharia will not rule, we will accept that."
He has a wry sense of humor and mischievous wit. Many Egyptians, he said, suffer from "Salaphobia: They don't think we smile or joke."
Tolba and other young ultraconservatives founded Salafyo Costa, named for the Western-style cafe they frequent. The movement is similar to efforts by secular activists to break with the established order and create a progressive generation of political and religious leaders.
"We're trying something brand-new," said Tolba, who studied at the American University in Cairo and speaks flawless English. "The stereotype is that the Salafi belongs to the lower classes and has a poor education. That doesn't represent the way we in Costa's Salafis look, behave or look at the future."
But Salafis have been at the center of disturbing scenes, including the deadly May burning of a Coptic Christian church in Cairo and a recent protest in which tens of thousands of Salafis demanded a strict Islamic state. Public statements by Salafi elders bristle with cultural and religious intolerance and fears that liberals want to turn Egypt into Sodom and Gomorrah.
Unlike the Muslim Brotherhood, the Salafis, literalists in following the Koran, have no rigid organizational structure. Their belief that Islam must permeate all segments of life makes them less adept at political compromise even though they can turn hundreds of thousands out to vote. Tolba is trying to improve this image.
"The masses have found themselves a bit lost" since the revolution, Tolba said. "The spirit of Tahrir Square is fading away.... Our main goal is unity. Nobody is working to bring liberals and Islamists together. We stand in the middle and push politics aside."
One of Salafyo Costa's coming-out parties, so to speak, was a small but symbolic gesture.
"Who are the people who hate Salafis the most? The Christians," he said. "We called for a football match with a Christian team. We wanted to play on church grounds, but the church was scared and suspicious. We found a private field. Surprisingly, we were scared, and they were scared because they thought they were playing with monsters."
Tolba's group also organized Salafi and Christian doctors to provide care in a poor Cairo neighborhood. Educated Salafis, who gravitate toward information technology jobs, got the word out, and Christians, who control a large part of the pharmaceutical industry, provided low-cost medication.
"We are like Nokia: We're connecting people," said Waleed Moustafa, a member of Salafyo Costa who starred in "Where's My Ear?" Moustafa is using Facebook and the Internet to spread the group's branches to Sudan and Saudi Arabia. "The Salafis are the nearest thing to the soul of God."
Many ultraconservatives believe Tolba and Moustafa's slick all-inclusive message is an affront to Salafi principles. Much of this resistance stems from political naivete and the fact, according to Tolba, that Salafis would benefit from a course in public relations.
"The big Salafi scholars want to break the ice but they don't know how to," Tolba said. "The resistance we're getting is coming from younger Salafis. They don't know how to escape the isolation the old regime kept them in. They don't think breakthroughs come in soccer matches but in speeches and conferences."
Arriving at their namesake coffee shop on a recent night, Tolba and Moustafa, fresh from hours of praying at the mosque, sat near huge windows overlooking the city. They were at ease; waiters weren't staring (too much) and there wasn't a policeman in sight. They spoke of this strange new Egypt and how, quite unexpectedly, they became Salafis.
"One of my friends died in a car accident in 2000," Tolba said. "I was not a practicing Muslim and I started to search for God. By 2002, I found that the Salafi ideology fit my needs. It was pure and spiritual and I needed that enlightenment badly. For the first time, I started to sleep in peace."
This purity led him to tolerance. He says he would accept a Coptic or a woman president — near impossibilities given the country's demographics and Islamic nature — and that Egypt must end discrimination. "Where's My Ear?" was his attempt to play the messenger and keep alive the revolution.
The title is a play on words that is at once clever and unnerving. It suggests that Egyptians of different religious sects must listen to one another. But it is also an allusion to an incident in southern Egypt in which Islamists cut the ear off of a Christian man accused of renting an apartment to promiscuous Muslim women. The film represents the hope of acceptance and the darker edges of sectarianism.
"We have to open up and listen," Tolba said.
This struck him in July when he and Moustafa pitched a tent for 10 days and joined liberals in a sit-in against the ruling military council in Tahrir Square. Many Salafis urged Tolba not to take part in a protest called by secularists. He told them the sit-in was for a better Egypt. But he quickly realized that though the demonstrators had passion, they lacked direction.
"They didn't know exactly what they were demanding," he said. "They didn't know how to map out objectives. I brought a white board and a Magic Marker and I told them, 'You guys are going to take your first interpersonal lesson from a Salafi.'"
2011年10月12日星期三
Republicans increasingly see Mitt Romney as the ‘inevitable candidate’
NASHUA, N.H. — Buoyed by a series of strong debate performances, Mitt Romney is suddenly attracting new support from major donors and elected officials, some of whom had resisted his previous entreaties, as people across the GOP grow more accepting of the presidential contender as the party’s standard-bearer.
“He’s viewed as an almost inevitable candidate,” said longtime strategist Ed Rollins, who until last month managed the campaign of Rep. Michele Bachmann (Minn.), one of Romney’s opponents. “He’s the heavy favorite.”
The party establishment seems to be moving Romney’s way, even as a new national poll highlighted the volatility of the race. A Wall Street Journal-NBC News poll showed the surging businessman Herman Cain numerically ahead of Romney for the first time, 27 percent to 23 percent, with Texas Gov. Rick Perry third, at 16 percent.
On Wednesday, Sen. Thad Cochran (R-Miss.) and former House speaker J. Dennis Hastert (R-Ill.) became the latest in a string of current and former elected officials who have announced their support for Romney over the past week. Former Republican National Committee chairman Jim Nicholson, hedge fund manager Paul Singer and Home Depot co-founder Ken Langone are among the major Republican fundraisers supporting the candidate.
“It’s all coming together for him,” said Cochran, who formally endorsed Romney on Wednesday. “People are beginning to be impressed with him and his thoughtful comments about the issues.”
The shift is being noticed not just among Republicans, but Democrats as well. In Chicago, President Obama’s campaign advisers increasingly view Romney as the most likely general-election foe, and on Wednesday they attacked the former Massachusetts governor as taking “diametrically opposite positions” on key issues during his political career.
With three months until primary voting begins, Romney and his political team are hoping to create an increasingly narrow path for his opponents by consolidating as much of the GOP around his candidacy as possible.
Still, considerable obstacles stand in Romney’s way to the nomination, namely winning over social conservatives and tea party activists who have been uneasy with the health-care overhaul he championed as governor of Massachusetts, as well as his shifting positions on abortion and same-sex marriage.
An NBC News-Marist poll released Tuesday found that Romney trailed Cain by 16 percentage points (31 percent to 15 percent ) among Republicans in Iowa who consider themselves supporters of the tea party movement.
Perry, considered Romney’s most durable rival, is trying to exploit those weaknesses and may soon open a new front in the nomination battle. After raising $17 million in the last fundraising quarter, Perry has the money to run commercials attacking Romney in all the early-voting states.
“Romney has done well to sort of regain the front-runner status, but I believe Governor Perry is going to be the alternative — the authentic conservative,” said Henry Barbour, a Perry backer and Republican National Committee member from Mississippi. “And the conservative candidate usually wins in Republican primaries.”
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