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Music

The wandering musicians

It was 4 p.m. on the corner of Broad and Chestnut streets. The streets were alive with people – constant streams hurrying past in all directions. Above the cars’ honking and crosswalk beeps, a steady pulse could be heard. A few people noticed its source. Others subconsciously walked in time with it, but most ignored it, allowing the music to fade into the soundtrack of the city.

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Opinion

Tainted word becomes OK to say

On a 9 a.m. bike ride through North Philadelphia, Keith Spotwood stopped in front of his old stomping grounds where, for him, the N-word became “natural, depending on how you use it.”