The Justice Department is on Netroots Radio.com Sundays 8pm to 9pm Pacific and Mondays 9pm to Midnight Pacific. Powered by Unity Radio Net!
I'm Special Agent DJ Justice; Radio Host and Program / Artistic 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 11 February 9pm to Midnight Pacific Edition of The Justice Department: Musique sans Frontieres:
~~ "Passages Intricate and Particular" ~~
1 - Cake -- "It's Coming Down"
2 - Link Wray -- "Switchblade"
3 - Laika & The Cosmonauts -- "Baja"
4 - Daikaiju -- "Farewell To Monster Island"
5 - Martin Deny -- "Hypnotique"
6 - Orgone -- "Cali Fever"
7 - My Sleeping Karma -- "Tamas"
Station Break
8 - Abigail Washburn -- "Bright Morning Stars
9 - Tin Hat Trio -- "Fear of the South"
10 - Guarda Che Luna -- "Richard Galliano"
11 - Jacques Brel -- "On N'Oublie Rien"
12 - Les Negresses Vertes -- "Hey Maria"
13 - Francis Cabrel -- "L'enfant Qui Dort"
14 - Ennio Morrricone -- "La Bambola"
15 - Martin Deny -- "Quiet Village"
Station Break
16 - Josh Roseman Unit -- "Long Day Short Night"
17 - Soul Jazz Orchestra -- "Kapital"
18 - Parov Stellar -- "Psychedelic Jazz"
19 - Medeski, Martin & Wood -- "Uninvisible"
20 - 4 Urban Artists -- "Real Drive"
Station Break
21 - Zap Mama -- "Mais Quest-ce"
22 - Esbjorn Svensson Trio -- "Dodge The Dodo"
23 - U.F.O. -- "On Est Ensemble Sans Se Parler L.O.V.E."
24 - Digible Planets -- "Cool Like That"
25 - Karsh Kale -- "Absence"
26 - Susheela Raman -- "Nagumono"
Station Break
27 - Beth Orton -- "She Cries Your Name"
28 - Kate Bush -- "Song of Solomon"
29 - Geoffrey Oryema -- "Hard Labor"
30 - Bjork -- "The Hunter"
31 - Porno for Pyros -- "Porpoise Head"
32 - Serge Gainsbourg -- "Ballade de Melody Nelson"
33 - William Orbit -- "Montok Point"
Station Break
34 - Hannah Georgas -- "Ode to Mom"
35 - First Aid Kit -- "When I Grow Up"
36 - Grateful Dead -- "Ripple"
37 - Mount Madonna Choir -- "Traveler's Prayer"
38 - Jeff Buckley -- "Eternal Life"
39 - John Coltrane -- "Dear Lord"
40 - Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks -- "I Scare Myself"
Netroots Radio is there for ya, baby!
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Go ahead, now you can listen while roaming the Big Orange and beyond!
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(12-String Ovation Balladeer Astoria, Oregon / copyright Justice Putnam)
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I passed through, I should have paused,
there were a hundred doors. One opened.
In there, someone whose name
is not yet known to me lived out
his middle years in simple terms, two chairs,
one place laid for early breakfast, one plate
with dry toast and butter softening. There
his mind raced through writings
he had memorized long ago while he tried
to get hold of himself. Once
in his youth he had studied with love
in the corners of old paintings
matrices of fields and towns,
passages intricate and particular, wheat,
columns, figures and ground,
classically proportioned
in lines that were meant
to meet, eventually,
at vanishing point. They continued,
nevertheless; they troubled the eye.
He collected sets of books printed
in the nineteenth century, unyielding
pages, memoirs of the poets,
engravings of rurified private subjects
in times of public sector unhappiness,
frescoes of human oddity in gatefold printing.
Why does it continue
to chasten me, he says to no one.
It does. It is a painful mistaking,
this setting something down,
saying aloud, “it is nothing yet”
when he’d meant, not anything—
but then nothing peered
through the keyhole, nothing
took possession. Snow on the roofs,
snow in traces on the ground,
passersby with wet trouser-cuffs
looking to the pavement as the hill rises,
light gathering in the river
and gradually spreading.
-- Saskia Hamilton
"In the Corridor"
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Voices and Soul appears on Black Kos Tuesday's Chile; poetry chosen and critiqued by Black Kos Poetry Editor Justice Putnam.
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(Cut Stones and Arch St Ceneri, France / copyright Justice Putnam)
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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
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(Man, Girl and Broken Window Klamath Falls, Oregon / copyright Justice Putnam)
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(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?)
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So that explains it... !
Sunlight and Water Pitcher Muir Beach / copyright Justice Putnam
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... Or does it?
(Holy Bible and 3 in 1 Oil Berkeley, California / copyright Justice Putnam)
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(Rail Road Crossing, Sonoma California / copyright Justice Putnam)
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"Many heroes lived before Agamemnon, but they are all unmourned, and consigned to oblivion, because they had no bard to sing their praises."
-- Horace
"Still the race of hero spirits pass the lamp from hand to hand."
-- Charles Kingsley
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The Nature of Poetics Collapsed Outside My Window
On the third floor
Of an old stone hotel
I gaze out my window
To the night rain
Wet streets of
Mexico City.
I look down on rooftops
Built by Spaniards
And across stratum
Of TV antennae
Electric lights
And the huge domes of
Ancient cathedrals.
History is backed up
Against itself here
Like layers of
Soil and mud
One can see the edge of
Aztec excavations
Between the sleek
Exact lines
Of modern towers.
Echoing up from the street
Is the wet hiss
Of rolling tires
On wet black-top
And the more distant
Sounds of
Engines
Dogs
And voices
All fusing somehow
Into that single
Universal
Hum-drone
The chant of cities.
The Poet must be
Alone here
He must be free
And live as
The wind itself
Not bound by
The culture of society
Not restrained by taboo.
At ease to wander
In the mysterious visions
Of touching everything
Of trusting everything
Of believing everything.
The Poet must be free
To live the law
Of iguana-lazy sleep
On the hot sand
The Poet must be free
For the frenzy
Of butterfly wings
Across the cool smooth
Strange sculptured
Texture of tropical waters.
The Poet must be free
To move
To see
Free to
Merely be.
(Mexico City 1986)
© 1988 and 2004 by Justice Putnam
and Mechanisches Strophe-Verlagswesen
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Rest in Peace Aaron Swartz
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(Morning Fog And Surf, Muir Beach, California / copyright Justice Putnam)
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