Junta (/ˈhʊntə/ or /ˈdʒʌntə/) is a term in Spanish for a civil deliberative or administrative council. In English, it is predominantly used for an authoritarian state run by high ranking officers of a military. It may refer to:
Governance:
Junta (/ˌˈdʒʊntəˈ/ juun-tə) is the first official studio release from the American rock band Phish. The album was independently recorded at Euphoria Sound Studio, now known as Sound & Vision Media, in Revere, MA by engineer Gordon Hookailo. Some of the recording was documented on video tape by studio owner Howard Cook. The recording was released on tape in 1988, and did not appear in stores officially until May 8, 1989. The album was re-released by Elektra Records on October 26, 1992. The album is named after Ben "Junta" Hunter, the band's first official manager/agent, whose nickname is pronounced with a "hard" J and a "short" U.
In addition to a few more traditionally structured songs, Junta contains symphonic-like epics and multi-part progressive rock suites.
The album was certified gold by the RIAA on October 9, 1997, and was certified platinum on July 7, 2004.
In February 2009, this album became available as a download in FLAC and MP3 formats from LivePhish.com.
On February 13, 2012, it was announced that Junta would be released on vinyl for the first time on April 21, 2012 as Limited Edition Deluxe 3-LP vinyl set, as part of Record Store Day. The LE Deluxe 3-LP vinyl set is limited to 5,000 individually numbered copies. The vinyl release was created from the original stereo master reels with lacquers cut by Chris Bellman at Bernie Grundman Mastering, and pressed onto 180g audiophile grade vinyl and includes a free MP3 download of the entire album (transferred from the new vinyl master). Chris Bellman also made two digital transfers from the original stereo master reels, one recorded at 24 bit / 96 kHz, and a second digital transfer recorded at 24 bit / 192 kHz. These digital files were sold at HDTracks. On this new release "Contact" is over a minute longer than in previous releases.
In the Napoleonic era, junta (Spanish pronunciation: [ˈxunta] or [ˈhunta]) was the name chosen by several local administrations formed in Spain during the Peninsular War as a patriotic alternative to the official administration toppled by the French invaders. The juntas were usually formed by adding prominent members of society, such as prelates, to the already-existing ayuntamientos (municipal councils). The juntas of the capitals of the traditional peninsular kingdoms of Spain styled themselves "Supreme Juntas," to differentiate themselves from, and claim authority over, provincial juntas. Juntas were also formed in Spanish America during this period in reaction to the developments in Spain.
The juntas were not necessarily revolutionary, least of all anti-monarchy or democratically elected. By way of example, the junta in Murcia, comprised the bishop, an archdeacon, two priors, seven members of the old city council, two magistrates, five prominent local aristocrats, including the Conde de Floridablanca (Charles III's prime minister) and five high-ranking officers (either retired or still serving). Likewise, the junta of Ciudad Rodrigo, a strategic town near the border with Portugal, comprised "nine serving officers, including the pre-war governor and the commanders of all the units that had made up the garrison; five retired officers, of whom two were brigadiers" and, among others, the bishop, and seventeen members of the clergy.
What horrors we wage
in the light of day,
bodies left decaying
for the world to see.
Conakry,
September, two thousand nine.
Moïse Dadis,
junta chief, will not resign
his command
to sworn democratic law.
Thousands band
to demand that he withdraw.
Crowd trapped.
Soldiers
gather,
guns drawn.
Fire.
Butchery veiled in tear gas,
bayonettes puncture eyes.
Flesh strewn across the grass,
knives sever robes from thighs.
Women raped with gun barrels,
bullet through a child’s head,
howls of humans feral
as they haul away the dead.
Red berets,
elite guard,
murder-crazed,
a city scarred.
Stores they loot,
ribs they snap
under boot.
Cadavers wrapped.
“C’est du
jamais-vu,”
they said.
“Pourquoi
nous, Allah?”
they pled
to absent god.
At the morgue a mother
seeks out her son.
No remains were found.
A desperate father
reaches for his gun,
his daughter bound
in an army base,
used by soldiers in turn,
‘til a rapist discerned
her familiar face,
and, shamed, set her
free.
She speaks no word to her doctor,
for fear her pain disgrace her kin.
For weeks she dared not sleep or dream.
Camara denied blame for the atrocity:
“The military’s beyond my control.”
The chief of his guard drew a pistol
and fired a round in the president’s
skull.
He survives,
abdicates.
A flood of
candidates
compete in Guinea’s
first truly
democratic vote.
Anarchy
mars the year.
Election
frauds unclear.
Will of the people:
Guineans elect
Alpha Condé.
The girl’s suicide,
the son never found,
the butchers alive.