All soldiers believe Charms in their MREs are foul luck, bad juju, more than just a dark talisman, a virtual death sentence. Patrols have been called off if some dirtbag private straight out of basic tested fate by peeling open a pack of the generic Jolly Ranchers knockoffs that bring nothing but doom. Everyone on the FOB heard stories about how Charms were a malediction that summoned malefactors who felled soldiers with sniper fire, mortar blasts and IED ambushes. Marines supposedly even once threw Charms at the enemy in a firefight to even skewed, candy-altered odds. That's why you never ingest Charms. That's why you cast them away theatrically, make a real show of it. That's why you have to observe the whole superstition. We all choke down MREs. That's a universal experience. Some have Charms; some don't. It's all chance. It's purely random, who's charmed or cursed by fate. Likewise, it makes no sense who randomly gets killed, maimed, blown up, torn apart, out there, outside the wire. There's no rhyme or reason behind which soldiers go down, who gets battlefield crosses with helmets, rifles, boots and dog tags, who succumbs to PTSD, traumatic brain injury, moral injury, any war wound. Maybe some stale, rotten hard candy could make sense of it all. Maybe Charms are just imbued a significance they never earned in a senseless chaos devoid of any meaning, in an abysmal void that invites lore. --------------------------------------- SUPPORT US ON PATREON: http://patreon.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/guidelines http://facebook.com/voicemailpoems http://twitter.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
i. In the other world, everything smells like cherries. Every phone call is the news of someone's death, and every cigarette is candy. In the other world, you tell me you do not love me every day, and our bed is made from cedar trees. The horses run rider- less and frightened, chased by men with bottles for weapons and collarbones made of ice. The plains are a burnt orange in the other world, and everyone reeks of a longing to understand. ii. In the other world, she never died, and everything tastes like gunmetal. Everyone washes themselves in coldness and sleeps in the bath. In the other world, I tell you to keep the dogs at bay, and our bed is made from palm leaves. The ocean laps at sand that is still glass, riddled with shipwreck. The mountains tumble down themselves in the other world, and everyone speaks to each other in tongues. iii. In the other world, everything sounds like a heart- beat. Everything is made of tinsel, multi-colored, and glows in the dark. In the other world, we tell each other every secret, and our bed is made from cattails. Grief slithers in and out of our ears, only frightened away by singing. The grasslands mumble mutely to themselves in the other world, and everyone knows only their own names. --------------------------------------- SUPPORT US ON PATREON: http://patreon.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/guidelines http://facebook.com/voicemailpoems http://twitter.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
Klu klux what? I'm a such A tool for America Hands scraped raw Hammered deep into cotton Fly up and it rains gold I'm a Midas But was forced to turn Inanimate objects into fortune To fields of green picked Over and rotten I'm a supposed Dead used problem Both birth and demise Alleged Between trying to kill And forgetting about I'ma question A poking to see if I writhe How much can a country Heap on a back until It concaves into a nail America's only seeming quandary You jealous? // Hey Klu Can I call you Klu What you going to do With that cross besides Make me laugh A tongue is a flame A black body is a cross You worship, me? Little ol' burnt thing Used to be pick to your ninny Now every time you lynch me You clone me // Behind you! Issa Me Oh! You thought the Noose would kill me No, no,no,no,no,no I mean not really me But another me Remember the clone The string up and teleport So every molecular thing Served up to slaughter Still lives structurally Same skin and everything But equipped with the Memory of your evil I do strange things with memory Like let it drip into a knife But don't worry I haven't breathed here enough To know how to use it // I don't get the sheet. I never got the sheet. I mean sure back then it was just as much about costuming fear as it was a mask, but now it's not even necessary. We have lived long enough to spot a racist. A white person could yawn and I could tell you if they whisper nigger under their breath in boardrooms or if they loudly proclaim their lust for my blood. It's all the same to me, all engineers of the type ecosystem that thirsts for black death so take off those gosh-darn sheets, join us, reveal how easily you slip into assembly, you'd be surprised. --------------------------------------- SUPPORT US ON PATREON: http://patreon.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/guidelines http://facebook.com/voicemailpoems http://twitter.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
"when you see a mountain coming, get out of it's way." my uncle, six-two and oxen told me after clipping my wing. i learn at an early age to be a black man is to see a black man and fear his size, momentum. to love a black man is to see his shape and surrender. i lay myself down on his threshing floor say uncle, and await apocalypse across my arms. when two gods enter a room, one is humbled. but there are no walls, no floors in space. so i say lover when i meet him there. --------------------------------------- SUPPORT US ON PATREON: http://patreon.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/guidelines http://facebook.com/voicemailpoems http://twitter.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
sonnet for Trans Lifeline & February 2017 & for Kai It snowed last week & the clouds slept lower. I wonder where your body went without you, who unraveled it & what came falling from their mouths. I think of you; a weighted sky; dirt, loosening itself in welcome; what it is to bury: to deem ready to give back; to kill: to call a body just a body, to turn to flesh & name the rest, the lost, the still of us fever dream prophecies of flightless birds about the heavens they can't reach. We know the sky was falling long before these days. It's just, it seems, the ground thaws out softer for us, now. Hungry or buckling or kind. --------------------------------------- SUPPORT US ON PATREON: http://patreon.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/guidelines http://facebook.com/voicemailpoems http://twitter.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
Another storm has the neighbors' chickens all lumped together and subdued, so I can't hear them from my attic room. Rain has thrown itself for days against the roof. "What is the cruelest month?" people ask. Last year I watched a man put one poor frozen bird in a garbage bag at the end of winter; it had been stuck in a corner of the coop. That's what Spring does: uncover what you thought was gone, flood the dirt and leave you to wonder which is meaner- the freeze or its long thaw. --------------------------------------- SUPPORT US ON PATREON: http://patreon.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/guidelines http://facebook.com/voicemailpoems http://twitter.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
Parmi les sons de la nature, le bruit des vagues est l'un des plus connus et des plus appréciés. Il a aussi beaucoup à nous dire. Parce qu'il a longtemps enseigné le son, Christian Canonville sait comment enregistrer et comment lire ce paysage sonore des vagues sur la plage. Comment se jouer des rafales du vent, des rouleaux assourdissants, des ondées passagères, pour capter les multiples langages de l'estran, cet espace éphémère découvert à marée basse. Fond d’air, ambiance, paysage, personnage… Avec sensibilité, il explique ce que l'écoute nous apprend d'un territoire, et comment mettre en scène le réel pour qu’il sonne plus vrai. Christian Canonville a enseigné durant 20 ans à l' E.N.S. Louis-Lumière les fondements de la prise de son au cinéma, puis ceux de la réalisation de documentaires et de fictions radiophoniques. Enregistrements : octobre 16, février 17 - Mise en ondes & mix : Samuel Hirsch - Prises de son et réalisation : Sara Monimart
Massive document leaks have led to the fall of world leaders and to new anti-corruption laws. But some leaks have put lives in danger. So is there a limit to the public’s right to know?
Scientists in 1985 discovered something that threatened the world we live in: The ozone layer had a hole in it. A big one. And this hole was growing very quickly. If it continued to grow, the consequences would be dire. Presented with the science, world leaders came up with an international agreement. The Montreal Protocol, as the treaty was called, may elicit shrugs today. But it staved off disaster for Earth. It was a remarkable success story, and our planet today would be a very different place if not for the Montreal Protocol and the so-called “blue sky” scientific research — research for curiosity’s sake — that led to the discovery of the rapid deterioration of the ozone layer, and its causes In this episode, we return to a program originally broadcast in January 2017 — one that is perhaps even more relevant today. Orbital Path is from PRX and produced by David Schulman. Justin O’Neill produced this episode. Orbital Path is edited by Andrea Mustain, with production oversight by John Barth and Genevieve Sponsler. Hosted by Dr. Michelle Thaller. Support for Orbital Path is provided by the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, enhancing public understanding of science, technology, and economic performance.
On Reveal, we share how the government failed to stop the opioid epidemic. A Washington Post/60 Minutes partnership with Reveal tells the story of how a DEA insider and his team of lawyers and investigators tried to stop drug distribution companies from flooding America with truckloads of pain pills. His effort was met with backlash from his own agency, the drug industry and Congress. We also hear the intimate chronicle of one wife’s discovery of her husband’s video diaries after his death from a fentanyl overdose. Finally, Reveal host Al Letson talks with Jan Rader, the fire chief in Huntington, West Virginia, about her fight to preserve life in the face of a crushing epidemic. Rader was profiled in the Oscar-nominated documentary "Heroin(e)." --- To explore more reporting, visit revealnews.org or find us at fb.com/ThisIsReveal, on Twitter @reveal or Instagram @revealnews.
KOM KO “Selv i comedy-branchen skal man være omstillingsparat!” Manuskript: Annika Aakjær Instruktion: Niels Erling Medvirkende: Signe Mannov, Nanna Cecilie Bang, Molly Egelind og Mads Riisom Lydscenografi: Tomas W. Raae Teknik: Morten Frank Live på Sigurdsgade 39 på Nørrebro i januar 2018
my head is full of blood steamed like latte foam pressing open the seams in my skull, burning through folds in my brain like a shot luge. my head is the generating station in the delaware river, developed into luxury condos with beds that fill the whole homes. my head is a smoking suite with smoke stains in the corners of the ceilings and the ice cubes smell like the smoke stains and that is disappointing in an expected way. and i'm laying in my underwear in every single bed, rolling and sighing in the sheets and taking notes how do i feel here what did i do here how was the bounce maybe a man is there smelling sweaty or like flat champagne sticky about the nape and i like to feel wanted or at least i like to be paid what i told that feeling i wanted. or at the very least, i'm shoveling black sand into some deficit, punching out, and watching the direct deposit cartwheel in at 3am. i am trying to convince everyone that this is what i do, i lay in the beds and turn inputs to outputs and i go out with my friends when i feel like they miss me and i make wry jokes about my own self-worth and my lonesomeness and they laugh and i write about the things that they laugh about in language opaque enough that i don't even feel it anymore. and i am naked looking out a big window in a luxury condo where my spirit is hung on a bamboo hanger like a bathrobe. of course it is the 4am hour where nothing is provocative any more. i read a magazine article in some design rag about the fire hydrant pumping station across the river. without it, they'd never have built the station or turned the station into condos. the fire would have burned in the middle of the river and the lights would all ball-gag themselves. i feel very bad for the factory. does he like to gorge himself in big sucks and swallows from the river just so that people can tap it from hundreds of holes miles away? --------------------------------------- SUPPORT US ON PATREON: http://patreon.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/guidelines http://facebook.com/voicemailpoems http://twitter.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
The town knows about darkness, the slithered purple that comes on the land when rotation hides the sun. Something gathered, slow and heavy and electric, almost as though the town knows evil is coming, and its shape. From here we can't see spots on the sun. We know where the roads go and where, how the ground lies. The town has us because we know it, and it knows us. It sees through our lies, even the ones we tell ourselves. And in the dark, the town is ours and we are the town's. Being in the town is prosaic, sensuous, alcoholic; black galaxies shot with morphic red. We see ourselves drowning in the sweet evil falls and liking it. There is no life here but the death of days. Something is going to happen. Can't we feel it? --------------------------------------- SUPPORT US ON PATREON: http://patreon.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/guidelines http://facebook.com/voicemailpoems http://twitter.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
He had created a type of 3d paint, was one of the first things he told us. As we followed him upstairs to his plant filled apartment, we decided he was lying. It wasn't long until he told us about Mexico; kidnapped by cartels, held hostage for weeks, his father and grandfather were mercenaries in the French Foreign Legion. He introduced us to his three passport dog, four French girls and his pal from Belgium. Everyday there were new visitors, the Belgian was the last man in the house. When we woke up to find him tucking us in we realised he actually didn't sleep. Each night he tried to persuade a new girl into his bed; the Germans were more easily led, the French a severe non. He spoke French with an American accent, had the physique of a young Brad Pitt and described to us in detail how he used to build bombs. We were taught about an old style of torture while we sat in an empty fountain, among the graffiti we learned that if you swallow a button, and pull it back up, your body evacuates everything south, north, east and west. Six months later he called me in the middle of the night. I didn't pick up, but remembered the paintings he showed us before we left, the faces lighting up, leaping out. --------------------------------------- SUPPORT US ON PATREON: http://patreon.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/guidelines http://facebook.com/voicemailpoems http://twitter.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
Part 1: Untitled It was yesterday or something, when I heard the song playing in a store, asking do I make myself a blessing to everyone I meet? I don't sing it to myself, exactly, but I do repeat it, metallic gyre, all the day long. In the at-home lab of an electrical engineer, I was surrounded by metallic gyres (not an industry term,) tiny spools of wire thread that do not unwind to fulfill their purpose. I touched things carefully, understanding none of them, vaguely susceptible like a green bruise because we had woken up in one another's legs. Do I make myself a blessing? (I really do. I am not perfect, but lovely, and a perceived dearth of this, of lovely people, is just a cultivated skew, benefiting whom? It's like, capitalism.) Anyway, unearthed Soviet tubes filled with brief forests of material mythos surrounded me, hofbrau, complex blessing. Engineer says: …(the) reactors all disappeared and who knows where they are. Each could kill 100,000 people. He makes coffee, I sit on the lawn. Oh, and at 1:47 we watched a rocket ascend. It did not go straight up, in case you are wondering. Part 2: Rocket Ascent at Vandenberg It appeared to experience a horizontal epoch, a teendom. Maybe meandering is part of all great inclinations. I'm reminded of "...the falcon cannot hear the falconer," but that's never really true, it's only a game. The rocket could definitely hear the falconer, and I feel sure that it still does, even at this very moment. --------------------------------------- SUPPORT US ON PATREON: http://patreon.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/guidelines http://facebook.com/voicemailpoems http://twitter.com/voicemailpoems http://voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
Seth Wickersham is a senior writer for ESPN. His latest article is "For Kraft, Brady and Belichick, Is This the Beginning of the End?" “You want to write about something real. I hate stories that are, the tension of the story is, talk radio perception versus the reality that I see when I’m with somebody. I can’t stand those stories because to me, you’re just writing about the ether versus a real person, and that’s not a real tension to me. The inner tensions are the best tensions. You can’t get to them with everybody, but you try.” Thanks to MailChimp and Mubi for sponsoring this week's episode. @SethWickersham Wickersham on Longform [02:10] "For Kraft, Brady and Belichick, Is This the Beginning of the End?" (ESPN • Jan 2018) [05:35] "Spygate to Deflategate: Inside What Split the NFL and Patriots Apart " (Don Van Natta Jr., Seth Wickersham • ESPN • Sep 2015) [05:35] "The Secret Life of Tiger Woods" (Wright Thompson • ESPN • April 2016) [15:05] "Why Richard Sherman Can't Let Go of Seattle's Super Bowl Loss" (ESPN • May 2017) [16:35] "Sin City or Bust " (Seth Wickersham, Don Van Natta Jr. • ESPN • April 2017) [19:10] @bruceallen [25:05] “The Brady Hunch” (ESPN The Magazine • Dec 2001) [26:00] The TB12 Method: How to Achieve a Lifetime of Sustained Peak Performance (Tom Brady • Simon & Schuster • 2017) [26:50] “The Drive That Never Ends” (ESPN The Magazine • Sept 2016) [28:25] “Tom Brady's Most Dangerous Game” (ESPN The Magazine • Oct 2017) [30:15] “A Football Life: Meet Bill Belichick” (NFL Productions • NFL Network • 2009) [30:20] “Patriots Coach Bill Belichick Dressed Up as a Pirate for Halloween” (Nick Schwartz • USA Today • Oct 2013) [41:40] “Rick Carlisle Rips ESPN for Publishing LaVar Ball Story on Luke Walton's Job Status” (Chris Chavez • Sports Illustrated • Jan 2018) [44:20] "John Skipper Resigns as ESPN president; George Bodenheimer Takes Over as Acting Chairman” (ESPN • Dec 2017)
To the Northwest of the Song Empire, a group of non-Chinese known as the Tanguts have long been subject to the whims and subjugations of their greater neighbors. But with the Chinese focused on their struggle against the Khitan Liao, and the Tibetans and Uighur states having collapsed to the far west, the Tanguts need to unite - in spite of their often fractious nature - if they're to seize the moment and carve out their place in history. Time Period Covered: ~735-1001 CE Major Historical Figures: Song Dynasty: Emperor Taizong of Song (Zhao Jiong) [r. 976-997] Emperor Zhenzong of Song (Zhao Heng) [r. 997-1022] Western Xia: Governor-General Tuoba Sigong (Li Sigong)of Dingnan, Duke of Xia [d. 886?] Li Yiyin/Yixin, Prince of Xia (posthumous) [d. 967] Li Kerui, Governor-General of Xia [r.967-978] Li Jiqian, rebel leader against Song Dynasty[963–1004] Li Deming (post. Emperor Taizong of Western Xia), founder of Xi Xia Dynasty [981–1032]
"Those weird moments of tension...that moment of uncertainty but impending doom...I don't think anything really ever matched that." Producers: Whit Missildine - thisisactuallyhappening.org Instagram: @actuallyhappening Music: "Re-Entry" - Lee Rosevere Featured Guest: Dick Wound You can find Dick's Podcast "Off the Cuffs: A Kink and BDSM podcast" on your podcast app. You can follow the show on Twitter and Instagram @OCPKINK. You can also follow Dick on Twitter @DickWound This Is Actually Happening Team: Whit Missildine, Lisa Zaid and Ryan Black Outro Music: "The Moon is Down" - El Diablo & Adam Schraft (Rojo y Negro) @eldiablosf @rojo-y-negro www.eldiablobass.com/
Orgasms can be tricky and elusive things to experience. Unless you understand the context and the circumstances that create a good orgasm, you can chase it and chase it and it will always remain just out of reach. On today's episode, Nate and Certified Sex Therapist, Kristin Hodson, talk about the female orgasm, and how to increase your capacity to achieve one. The episode is JAM PACKED with information. Listen closely to make sure you don't miss anything. And if you have questions, feel free to reach out to [email protected]
A live story about my most memorable neighbors to date. This live story was also featured in the Moth Book, All These Wonders.