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Father
If you could hear love, what would it sound like? Son, can we talk about your drinking? Yeah, Dad, I think we should. Helping those closest to you think about their excessive drinking. Maybe that's what love sounds like. More@rethinkthedrink.com An OHA initiative.
Major Jackson
I'm major Jackson and this is the Slowdown. My friend Chris and I had just completed a shift. We were teenagers and it was a Friday. We spent a long day flipping frozen patties and salting vats of french fries. We were on our way to his house to play video games. About 10 minutes into our walk, a guy approached us on a bicycle telling us about an underground house party. Chris said, sure, faster than I could vocalize my exhaustion. He was super friendly and hyped up the MCs who were supposed to perform. We followed him into a low lit alley. We heard no music. Just when I went to tell Chris I was heading home, his eyes got big and he took off. When I turned around, the guy had a gun pointed to my face. It happened that fast. I remember a heavy steel on my temple. He ordered me to lay down and to slowly reach into my pocket and hand him all my money. His voice was raspy and quick. My heart raced. I thought of my little brother and my mother. I thought of my baseball team, people I wouldn't see anymore. He poked the gun into my back and told me to count to 100. Then I could get up. I heard music off in the distance. I counted. I didn't make it to 100. I raised my body out of the dirt. At 33, I was changed. As kids, me and my friends played war both in video games and in the park. We had no sense of the fear that permeates places of armed conflict or what it meant to actually face one's own death. We had no idea of the questionable acts, the moral dissent and injury that accompanies war. Today's haunting poem, an embedded absidarian, gets at the bizarre alter reality of violence, how it distorts and impacts everything. The Future of Terror 1 by Matia Harvey the General Lissimo's glance directed him to and fro. Geronimo, said the uber goon we called God, and we were off to the races. Never mind that we could only grow gray things that inspecting the horse's gums in the gymnasium predicted a jagged road ahead. We were tired of hard news. It helped to turn down our hearing aids. We could already all do and impeccable imitations of the idiot, his insistent incisors working on a stake. As he said, there's an intimacy to invasion. That much was true when we got jaded about joy rods. We could always play games in the kitchen garden with the prisoners. Jump the gun, find kettle of fish, and kick the kidney were our favorites. The laws the linguists thought up were particularly lissome, full of magical loopholes that spit out metals. We had made the big time, but night still nipped at our heels. The navigator's needles swung strangely, oscillating between the oil wells and ask again later. We tried to pull ourselves together by practicing quarterback sneaks along the pylons, but the race to the ravine was starting to feel as real as the rips and roses carved into rock. Suddenly, the sight of a school bag could send us scrambling. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. This project is also supported in part by the National Endowment for the Arts. On the web@arts.gov to get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter. Find us on Instagram at Slowdown Show.
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Glad Shrink Feeling Pun so fresh Glad Stretch let's drink Grandma's place always smells like pine, she said. Get out the chat room and clean my Stretch Feeling pine Soul Fresh the Glad girl group coming at you with that throwback jam that was Glad Force Flex Drawstring trash bags featuring pine salt Original scent and that's better than all good. It's all Glad.
The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily Episode 1262: "The Future of Terror / 1" by Matthea Harvey Release Date: December 17, 2024
In Episode 1262 of The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily, hosted by Major Jackson and produced by American Public Media in partnership with The Poetry Foundation, listeners are guided through a poignant exploration of violence and its profound impact on individuals and society. This episode features the haunting poem "The Future of Terror / 1" by Matthea Harvey, accompanied by Major Jackson's personal narrative that sets the stage for deep reflection.
The episode begins with Major Jackson recounting a life-altering experience from his youth. At [00:36], he shares:
"My friend Chris and I had just completed a shift. We were teenagers and it was a Friday. We spent a long day flipping frozen patties and salting vats of french fries... About 10 minutes into our walk, a guy approached us on a bicycle telling us about an underground house party."
As they walk home, seeking relaxation through video games, a seemingly friendly stranger lures them into a perilous situation. Major Jackson vividly describes the sudden violence he encounters:
"He took off. When I turned around, the guy had a gun pointed to my face... I remember a heavy steel on my temple. He ordered me to lay down and to slowly reach into my pocket and hand him all my money... My heart raced. I thought of my little brother and my mother." [03:15]
This harrowing encounter not only instills a deep sense of fear but also marks a turning point in his understanding of violence and its ramifications. At [05:00], Major Jackson reflects on the innocence of youth and the stark contrast between childhood games and real-life terror:
"As kids, me and my friends played war both in video games and in the park. We had no sense of the fear that permeates places of armed conflict or what it meant to actually face one's own death."
Following his narrative, Major Jackson introduces Matthea Harvey's poem "The Future of Terror / 1," which delves into the surreal and distorted reality of violence. The poem intertwines vivid imagery with abstract concepts, creating an unsettling atmosphere that mirrors the chaos and confusion inherent in violent encounters.
Key excerpts from the poem include:
These lines, timestamped around [04:20], exemplify the poem's exploration of the banalization of violence and its intrusion into everyday life. The metaphorical language paints a picture of a world where terror is normalized and omnipresent, challenging readers to rethink their perceptions of safety and normalcy.
Major Jackson uses the poem as a lens to discuss broader societal issues related to violence and fear. He draws parallels between his personal experience and the poem's depiction of a world perpetually on edge:
"Today's haunting poem gets at the bizarre alter reality of violence, how it distorts and impacts everything." [05:30]
The episode delves into the psychological effects of violence, the erosion of innocence, and the pervasive sense of unease that modern society grapples with. Major Jackson emphasizes the poet's ability to illuminate these complex emotions, offering listeners a moment of introspection and collective reflection.
Notable reflections include:
Episode 1262 of The Slowdown masterfully intertwines Major Jackson's personal narrative with Matthea Harvey's evocative poem to explore the unsettling realities of violence and its far-reaching effects. Through poignant storytelling and poetic excellence, listeners are invited to pause, reflect, and engage with the profound themes of fear, innocence, and societal desensitization.
By weaving together personal experience and literary artistry, Major Jackson not only honors the power of poetry to shed light on complex emotions but also fosters a deeper understanding of our collective journey through turbulent times.
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The Slowdown is produced by APM Studios in partnership with The Poetry Foundation and supported in part by the National Endowment for the Arts.