Joe Clement and Iven Hale review Selma, the widely acclaimed biopic about Martin Luther King Jr. and the Selma to Montgomery marches he helped organize in 1965, which aimed to draw attention to racial domination still alive after the Civil Rights Act of 1964. David Oyelowo plays Martin Luther King in a screenplay written and directed by Ava Duvernay. The movie moles consider the film's merits and question the limits its story-telling place on MLK's legacy and intersectional point of view when it came to fighting racism, materialism, and militarism.
This is the second installment* in Alan Weider's ongoing project to remember and revive the work of Studs Turkel. In March of 1965, Studs went to Montgomery, the capital of Alabama. There he would talk with locals about their personal feelings and what they hear others saying about the Civil Rights movement---and the Selma to Montgomery marches in particular. In addition to hearing from locals, Studs talks with Martin Luther King Jr. and at one point records himself waxing nervously about FBI surveillance.
"Obama's six-year $478 billion public works program would provide upgrades for the nation's highways, bridges and transit systems, in an effort to tap into bipartisan support for spending on badly needed repairs. Half of that money would come from a one-time mandatory tax on profits that U.S. companies have amassed overseas, according to White House officials who spoke on condition of anonymity before the budget was released.” Thus the official word from on high.
Word from the real world comes to us from James Henry 30:00 minutes (20.6 MB)
OU is genius. They take you on a Mediterranean joyride of vivacious original compositions with folk sensibility, jazz with fiercely funky rhythms, topped with gorgeously lush vocals, sung in Sardinian, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese and English.
Based in Rome, Italy, the three women are Sardinian, the three men pure Romans. Bass drums and piano form the lively rhythm section ~ then trumpet, sax, ukelele, glockenspiel and 6 glorious voices weave themselves over the contagious rhythms.
Raised among the ferns and the farmland of Northern Washington, lyric-driven songwriter Anna Tivel loved words long before they became the backbone of her music. “My sister, my mom and I would go to our little town library with a rolling suitcase and fill it to bursting,” she remembers, “we read in the car, in the bath, under the covers late at night, always piles of books, always music playing, from Paul Simon to Dylan, from The Kingston Trio to Itzaak Perlman.”