Colin Beavan's thought was hardly unusual. Most of us have wondered whether all our accumulated belongings and technology make our lives better.

"We're consuming way too much stuff as a civilization," Beavan said. "And we have an idea that's because we need all these things. When people tend to talk about living environmentally, they tend to think of depriving ourselves. The question became in our year: Would we be less happy or more happy? Would we actually find that there were some greater satisfactions than consuming resources to be had? And if that was the case - which it was in our case - might it be possible for our culture to design itself in such a way so that it uses fewer resources but also gives us happier lives?"

Alex Riggen and Nick Pompou will perform their first public show as Murnau on Saturday at East Moline's Mixtapes, but the duo's ambitions are already clear.

Based in Morrison, Illinois, the band is named for the expressionist silent-film director F.W. Murnau (who made Nosferatu and Sunrise), and in addition to a trio of demos it has already recorded a score for the 1929 surrealistic classic short Un Chien Andalou as part of an EP with the single "We March on." The songs for a full-length have been written, the drums are recorded, and the album should be released next year, Riggen said last week.

"We've just always focused on recording and releasing ... to a wide audience [on the Web] rather than finding shows," he said. "We just like to write."

If you glance at the box-office top 10 this week, you might think that the supernatural romantic comedy Ghost Town was a bomb, finishing last among the four major new releases and eighth overall. But the movie's title was almost a self-fulfilling prophecy, as Paramount/DreamWorks only exhibited it in 1,505 theatres - a sure sign the studio doesn't believe in the movie. (Its opening-weekend competitors - Lakeview Terrace, Igor, and My Best Friend's Girl - were all released in more than 2,300 theatres.)

On her Web site, Liz Robertson explains the circumstances that inspired her to pursue ceramics as a career: "From my early childhood I seemed to understand that clay, when put to fire, makes a permanent thing. My father was a bricklayer. Our backyard was good red clay. Our coal furnace, with its handy ledge, was where we placed our crude pinch pots to bake."

But necessity made her switch from throwing pots on a wheel to the hand-building technique she primarily uses today.