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I'm Special Agent DJ Justice; Radio Host and Program Director for Netroots Radio.com; and I'm manning the dials, spinning the discs, warbling the woofers, putting a slip in your hip and a trip to your hop.
The playlist for Monday 25 March 9pm to Midnight Pacific Edition of The Justice Department: Musique sans FrontieresNetroots Radio is there for ya, baby!
~~ "Two Sheets of Glass to Shiver Between" ~~
1 - Gillian Welch -- "One More Dollar"
2 - Abigail Washburn -- "Sometimes"
3 - Crooked Still -- "Come On In My Kitchen"
4 - Carolina Chocolate Drops -- "Leaving Eden"
5 - Grateful Dead -- "Brokedown Palace"
6 - The Horseflies -- "The Drunkards Lone Child"
7 - First Aid Kit -- "When I Grow Up"
8 - Russian Red -- "Just Like a Wall"
9 - Woods -- "Death Rattles"
10 - Little Axe -- "Ride On"
11 - Thievery Corporation -- "La Femme Parallel"
12 - Francis Cabrel -- "La Corrida"
13 - Gipsy Kings -- "Trista Pena"
14 - Joan Baez -- "Bachianas Brasileiras No 5 Aria"
15 - Ennio Morricone -- "Malena"
16 - Vangelis - "Song Of The Seas"
17 - Colour Haze -- "Aquamaria"
18 - Porno For Pyros -- "Bali Eyes"
19 - The Budos Band -- "King Cobra"
20 - Vanilla Fudge -- "Season Of The Witch"
21 - Violent Femmes -- "Kiss Off"
23 - Hungry Lucy -- "Storm"
24 - Kroke -- "The Sounds of a Vanishing World"
25 - Garaj Mahal -- "Hindi Gumbo"
26 - Victor Démé -- "Djon Maya"
27 - Jai Uttal and the Pagan Love Orchestra -- "Corner"
28 - Sleepy Sun -- "Sandstorm Woman"
29 - Tinariwen -- "Ere Tasfata Adounia"
30 - Mahmoud Ahmed -- "Era Mela Mela"
31 - Emeralds -- "Now You See Me"
32 - Os Mutantes -- "Bat Macumba"
33 - Yatu -- "La Luna"
34 - Poncho Sanchez -- "Besame Mama"
35 - Sabrina Malheiros -- "Cade Voce"
36 - New Trolls -- "Paolo E Francesca"
37 - Anna Caram -- "Agua de Beber"
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Go ahead, now you can listen while roaming the Big Orange and beyond!
All my stories are about being left,~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
all yours about leaving. So we should have known.
Should have known to leave well enough alone;
we knew, and we didn’t. You said let’s put
our cards on the table, your card
was your body, the table my bed, where we didn’t
get till 4 am, so tired from wanting
what we shouldn’t that when we finally found our heads,
we’d lost our minds. Love,I wanted to call you
so fast. But so slow you could taste each
letter licked into your particular and rose-like ear.
L, love, for let’s wait. O, for oh no, let’s not. V
for the precious v between your deep breasts
(and the virtue of your fingers
in the voluptuous center of me.)
Okay, E for enough.
Dawn broke, or shattered. Once we’ve made
the promises, it’s hard to add the prefix if. . . .
But not so wrong to try.
That means taking a lot of walks,
which neither of us is good at,
for different reasons, and nights up till 2
arguing whose reasons are better.
Time and numbers count a lot in this. 13
years my marriage. 5 years you my friend.
4th of July weekend when something that begins
in mist, by mistake (whose?), means too much
has to end. I think we need an abacus to get our love
on course, and one of us to oil the shining rods
so we can keep the crazy beads clicking,
clicking. It wasn’t a question
of a perfect fit. Theoretically,
it should be enough to say I left a man
for a woman (90% of the world is content
to leave it at that. Oh, lazy world) and when the woman
lost her nerve, I left
for greater concerns: when words like autonomy
were useful, I used them, I confess. So I get
what I deserve: a studio apartment he paid the rent on;
bookshelves up to the ceiling she drove
the screws for. And a skylight I sleep alone
beneath, and two shiny quarters in my pocket
to call one, then the other, or to call one
twice. Once, twice, I threatened to leave him—
remember? Now that I’ve done it, he says
he doesn’t. I’m in a phonebooth at the corner of Bank
and Greenwich; not a booth, exactly,
but two sheets of glass to shiver between.
This is called being street-smart: dialing
a number that you know won’t be answered,
but the message you leave leaves proof that you tried.
And this, my two dearly beloveds, is this called
hedging your bets? I fish out my other
coin, turn it over in my fingers, press
it into the slot. Hold it there. Let it drop.
Voices and Soulappears on Black Kos Tuesday's Chile; poetry chosen and critiqued by Black Kos Poetry Editor Justice Putnam.
Question: Who is your audience? What are you here for?~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Answer: Tribal Alliances, Heart-felt Convictions, Passionate Reason, Random Abandon, Sustainable Civility and a kiss; to comfort the sad and the mad Ones; the Ones roaming the International section of the American Supermarket at night; or roaming the neglected streets looking for an angry malaprop to sink their teeth into; the Ones who seek without seeking and learn as much as they teach; the Ones who embrace and kiss and embrace again; the Ones who sing the song of the city and the ballads of the forest; the Ones who chant the rhythm of the sea and hum the melody of the desert; the Ones who sing the prayer of Her name and Her name is the World. Yes, those are the Ones. -- JP
(Can you help folks in need heat their homes and cook their food on the Rosebud and Pine Ridge Reservations. Navajo has an important diary posted with all the particulars. Even a small amount can work towards building the minimum.
Could you please help?)
So that explains it... !
... Or does it?
I took another small sip of water as the next questioner rose, this time by the stacks of French novels. She was cute; red hair, tall, maybe 5'9" or 5'10", well proportioned. Had to be another doctoral student in Comparative Literature at Cal; so even at 24 or 25, was too young for my wandering eye.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You stated," she stated determinedly, "and I quote; 'Comedy, Poetry and Fiction are only effective and only become Art if there is a Truth behind the humor, the verse and the lie.'"
"Yes," I uttered to fill the small silence.
"In your writing; in your humor, verse and lies, are you telling a Truth about yourself?" she asked, "or are you telling a Truth about the Culture and Society as a whole?"
"Yes," I answered.
(Rail Road Crossing, Sonoma California / copyright Justice Putnam)
"Many heroes lived before Agamemnon, but they are all unmourned, and consigned to oblivion, because they had no bard to sing their praises."
"Still the race of hero spirits pass the lamp from hand to hand."~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-- Charles Kingsley
Rest in Peace Aaron Schwartz
(Morning Fog And Surf, Muir Beach, California / copyright Justice Putnam)