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“Crickets Twiddling on a Sunday”

In this ever-evolving construction of human beings in America in 2018, the woman herself is the art form, now lain naked (I’ve seen Sue Bird’s bare a** on standard cable programming this summer and no WNBA telecasts) and open to the world, although some music like the Allman Brothers’ “Little Martha” might be celestial enough to compete with her beauty. Still, too, the black man is insufficiently represented, as academic music concerts typically comprise classical music, which is a foreign, imported genre, exclusive of the wealthy myriad of musics the African American has come up with himself. Black music is inevitably more rhythmic, able to infiltrate the busy activities of daily life in America, a far cry from a removed entity or museum exhibit which classical acts as largely.

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