A+E

Tales of all-ages ingenuity!

Without alcohol sales to bolster cash flow, all-ages venues often have to think outside the box to attract patrons. In addition to regular shows with such headliners as Poison the Well and Saves the Day, here's what University Theatre promoter Brian Saliba has cooking for the upcoming weeks:

Die Trying Comedy Show: "Six comics, four rounds and one winner, each round spotlighting a different skill needed to be a good comic," explains producer/host Bryan Bruner. Adds producer/co-host Brandon Hahn, "We are trying to open Las Vegas' eyes to the ever-expanding comedic talent that lives right here. Just because a comic has an agent that can get them time at the Improv or the Riviera, it doesn't necessarily mean that they are funnier than any of us." (April 21, $15)

10 Bands $10: A Sunday-matinee extravaganza featuring Aftermath Of, Serene, Grocery Store Rejects, Urchin, Take, Newsense, SouLogic, Never*Mind, Navy Jets Collide ... and someone else. Plus, community barbecue on the patio! (April 22)

Bike Rack Battles: In the rebirth of a concept from Saliba's days at the Huntridge, high-school bands will compete for a prize pack including $1,000 in studio time, a 1,000-CD pressing, free merch and some choice gigs. Saliba indicates that Interscope Records' Maloof and MySpace branches may be involved as well. (May 29-June 2, Price TBA)

Prophet or man unstuck in time?

Whether you considered him a latter-day literary sage in the Mark Twain mold or a faded '60s fixture unwilling (or unable) to abandon that era's penchant for oversimplification and cloying verbal trickery, Kurt Vonnegut, who died last week, represented a unique generational bridge. A World War II vet whose horrific experiences as a POW in Germany provided fodder for his masterpiece, Slaughterhouse-Five (1969), Vonnegut—a Hoosier—was as well-versed in plainspoken pre-boomer hucksterism as he was in the counterculture's spacy patois. This tightrope act informed his best books, including Mother Night (1961) and freshman-lit mainstay Cat's Cradle (1963), and hobbled his lesser ones (the loopy cornpone of 1973's Breakfast of Champions is practically unreadable), in which he was given to refurbishing characters and plots and drawing pictures of his butthole. But while he may have run out of things to say, or fresh ways of saying old things, his dedication to "calling attention to things that really matter" never faltered. A late book of previously published musings, A Man Without a Country (2005), elicited polite reviews, and at some level Vonnegut himself must have appreciated how his lifelong advice to be suspicious of our elders came home to roost.

A 3D approach to a 2D game

Super Paper Mario for Nintendo Wii (rated E, 4 stars) Why the hell is Mario made out of paper? This question has influenced the development of the whole Paper Mario series. The first title in the franchise was a mushroom kingdom-flavored RPG with a paper aesthetic. But why arbitrarily make everything out of paper? The sequel made use of Mario's newfound anorexia by giving him the ability to fold himself into paper airplanes and other forms of simple origami. And the latest game takes full advantage of Mario's 2D world by giving you the power to look at it from a 3D perspective in order to solve some ingenious puzzles.

This latest development makes Super Paper Mario more of a platformer. It still retains some RPG elements (the most annoying of which is endless amounts of text-based dialogue), but the game plays like a 2D side-scroller that you can tilt on a 3D axis to find hidden secrets. It's a cool concept that does more than look good on paper.

Possibly credible interpretations of a single image

Cara Cole, "Brutal Instincts." For me, this was the memorable image from the last First Friday, its meanings and graphic verve making mincemeat of everything else that night. Of course, it'd be easy to dismiss "Brutal Instincts" as a simple job of pitting the placid against the violent. But keep looking. It's about time, as I see it, at least at first. Look at the top part: Because it's sky (which is infinite) and in nuanced black and white (which we've learned to see as signifying timelessness), it contrasts jarringly with the bloody canine jaw, a reminder of the brutally abbreviated term of fleshly life. So, you know: life is short, but time goes on—that whole thing. Yet, once you think of the lower image in terms of flesh, you must consider the upper one in terms of spirit—the implication of that vast sky—and so you double back: Is it about time or spirituality? If nothing else, that placid-vs.-violent stuff is done strongly enough to hold your eye as you puzzle it out. (At Dust Gallery, 1221 S. Main St., through April 22.)