#kabul explosion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

septembriseur · 1 year ago

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I talk a lot about the flattening effect of social media and click-based journalism (which, by the way, reading Susan Moeller's Compassion Fatigue is a really good reminder that the problems with click-based journalism are not actually problems of click-based journalism, but actually problems that arose when we began to have the technical ability to measure the attention-attraction factor of certain stories and cater to consumer demand, an issue that Moeller is writing about in the era of TV news), but mostly in a negative sense: how disorienting and intolerable it is to see, as Kaveh Akbar put it in that Paris Review interview, a piece of Marvel casting treated as "on the same level" with the destruction of a village in Syria.

But the thing is that the same flattening effect actually does have the capacity to work in the opposite direction. My Facebook feed tends to be dominated by Afghan friends, which mostly reflects different patterns of Facebook usage— young Americans and Europeans have used Facebook less and less in recent years, but young Afghans have continued using it heavily. So: often when I open Facebook, what I see is a mixture of posts by young moms in America about their family vacation or their kid graduating first grade; political posts by friends in Texas and Ohio who are actively involved in combating local anti-trans and anti-diversity legislation; posts from a dog travel community I'm in; Pashto and Persian updates about urgent blood donation needs, charity efforts, and recent explosions that people have heard in Kabul; TikToks, poems, and meditations by young Afghan students about exile, separation from their families, and uncertain futures.

To see a post about an American family's summer vacation in Virginia juxtaposed with a post by a young Afghan student about how she still has dreams about the last time she saw her family, when she was separated from them at the Kabul airport during the 2021 evacuation because she was allowed to go to the US and they weren't... has an effect. To see the clean, neat, and omnigreen yard of an American suburb in a post about a Fourth of July party juxtaposed with an appeal for anyone in Kabul with a certain type of blood to call this family's number, because the child of this family is injured and needs a transfusion... has an effect. And it's the same flattening effect! It's the effect that highlights hat all of these people's lives are happening on exactly the same level, which ought to outrage us but which we have been conditioned to ignore and accept.

It's not the flattening effect that's the problem— actually, it should be radicalizing for us to be mechanically presented with a reel of the world that juxtaposes TikTok influencer drama and workout fads with the suffering and struggles of people in Syria and Sudan. So why isn't it?

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archoneddzs15 · 2 months ago

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Sega Mega CD - Surgical Strike

Title: Surgical Strike / サージカルストライク

Developer: The Code Monkeys / Stargate Films

Publisher: Sega

Release date: 22 December 1995

Catalogue No.: G-6044

Genre: FMV Action / Shooting

The last first-party Sega-published Mega CD release in Japan. Playing as a team of special forces your mission is to stop the evil Kabul from killing innocent civilians. The action automatically scrolls along but the C button allows you to turn at pre-determined points. You control a crosshair, and the gameplay involves protecting teammates by shooting enemies and armored vehicles with your Gatlin Gun or Missiles. There are three missions with the first being set in a Desert Town where you need to take control of a town hall.

The full-screen Cinepak-encoded FMV is full of cool, outlandish explosions but every time you shoot the gameplay is annoyingly interrupted while you watch a video clip. The cursor also moves too slowly meaning the FMV often outruns your crosshair, and you take damage from enemies. For some reason, ammo is in extremely limited supply which is a real detriment to the gameplay as it makes you fight too cautiously and avoid unnecessary combat. Mission 2 is in the Mountains with enemy helicopters and caves that require night vision goggles.

The game really starts to lose its way here as the stage features a gigantic play area with a confusing structure; as a result, wasting firepower and losing lives is commonplace unless you memorize the entire layout. Mission 3 takes place on an Island Paradise and starts off with scantily clad women being blown to smithereens! You then have to rescue a kidnapped female team member and destroy Kabul by dropping a ceiling fan on his head. The whole mission is bizarre and features some awful-looking green screen effects, such as when the boss is chopped to pieces and his feet wander away by themselves!

Surgical Strike's presentation can't be faulted but as a whole, it's a classic case of style over substance. There's just not much in the way of gameplay and the little that is here is boring with tiresome action and a stingy weapon system that takes away any fun you might have.

The game is interesting as it was due to be brought to the Sega CD 32X but was said to have been canceled at the last minute. The box for the US Sega CD version of the game even goes as far as to advertise the 32X upgrade which did not end up happening; instead, customers who participated in the upgrade offer were sent one of the Code Monkeys' other video game 'Wirehead'. While Japan, Europe, and North America never got that edition, the Sega CD 32X game did see a release exclusively in Brazil, making it the only 32X Brazilian exclusive (although the game itself is still in English). So as a thanks to that little factoid, I have also attached several Youtube videos of the Sega CD 32X version as well.

youtube

#sega cd #Youtube

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mariacallous · 8 months ago

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The mass shooting and fire at the Crocus City Hall concert venue outside Moscow on March 22 was the deadliest terrorist attack Russia has seen since the 2004 Beslan school siege. The gunmen’s actions claimed at least 137 lives and injured 180 others. The four suspects currently in custody are citizens of Tajikistan. But Russian authorities are doing their best to connect the attack to Ukraine. Sources in Western intelligence, meanwhile, say it was the work of the Islamic State-Khorasan, a branch of the Islamic State also known as ISIS-K. Experts note that ISIS-K has declared Russia among its main enemies (along with the U.S. and China). Meduza breaks down what you need to know about ISIS-K and why the group has Russia in its sights.

What is ISIS-K?

ISIS-K, or the Islamic State-Khorasan, is a branch of the Islamic State that operates primarily in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Formally, the organization governs an ISIS province (wilayah, in Arabic) and reports to the ISIS caliph. Currently, this position is held by Abu Hafs al-Hashimi al-Qurashi, whose four predecessors were killed in U.S. operations.

According to ISIS ideology, its caliphate, or state, aims to span the entire globe. The organization has divided the world into provinces, some of which are headed by local Islamist movements that operated before ISIS came into existence (for instance, ones connected to Al-Qaeda). In fact, ISIS itself emerged when the Al-Qaeda branch in Iraq severed ties with the global Al-Qaeda leadership.

Similarly, the Afghan-Pakistani branch of the Islamic State, ISIS-K, emerged in 2015 as a local movement. Initially, the group was composed of several thousand opponents of Afghanistan’s pro-American government, mostly Pashtuns, who were disillusioned with the Taliban. ISIS-K immediately started engaging in armed conflicts with the U.S. army, the Afghan government, and, even more brutally, with the Taliban.

The Taliban’s ideology fundamentally differs from that of ISIS. The Taliban aim to establish a national Islamic State in Afghanistan, while ISIS supporters advocate for world domination and the defeat of all “infidels.” Islamic nationalism won out in Afghanistan (and neighboring Pakistan), and by 2018, the Taliban (with the unofficial help of U.S. air support) had virtually destroyed ISIS-K’s organized resistance in the eastern provinces. U.S. forces killed several of the group’s leaders and, according to experts, the organization’s numbers were severely depleted, going from several thousand to a few hundred people.

Sanaullah Ghafari, who took over ISIS-K’s leadership, shifted the group’s strategy from direct armed confrontations to increasingly ruthless acts of terrorism against the Taliban, religious minorities, and Americans. During the U.S. troop withdrawal from Kabul in August 2021, he allegedly orchestrated a suicide bombing at the airport gate through which refugees fleeing Taliban rule were trying to enter. The attack killed 182 people, including 13 U.S. servicemen.

ISIS-K later expanded its list of enemies to include Russia, among others. On September 5, 2022, an explosion near the Russian embassy in Kabul killed five people, including two embassy staff. ISIS-K claimed responsibility for the attack. In January 2024, more than 90 people were killed in twin explosions in Kerman in Iran. U.S. intelligence confirmed ISIS-K orchestrated the attacks. However, Taliban agents allegedly killed Ghafari in 2023, and it’s unclear who’s currently at the helm of ISIS-K. That said, judging by the Iran attacks, its strategy remains unchanged.

Why Russia?

Radical Islamists have long accused Russia of being a state that “oppresses Muslims” both at home and abroad. ISIS propaganda regularly mentions Russia’s past military campaigns in Afghanistan and Chechnya, and Moscow’s intervention in support of Bashar al-Assad’s government in Syria put an even bigger target on its back.

ISIS-K leadership has seen the initial success of ISIS leadership, which capitalized politically on the global struggle against “infidel empires” such as the United States, China, Iran, and Russia. Prioritizing “external operations” could yield far greater political and financial benefits (in the form of donations) than working with local resources.

There are also deeper reasons for the particular hostility towards Russia. In recent years, ISIS-K has been trying to expand the movement’s ethnic base — both in Afghanistan and beyond. In the northern regions of Afghanistan, where many ethnic Uzbeks and Tajiks live, its numbers are growing. ISIS-K regularly threatens Central Asian authorities, calling them “puppets of the Russian empire.” In this sense, the struggle against Russia is a fight for resources: primarily for radically minded supporters in Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and neighboring countries.

Was ISIS-K behind the attack?

There’s still no publicly available indisputable evidence that ISIS-K organized the attack. However, ISIS has claimed responsibility, and sources told CNN that the U.S. is in possession of intelligence confirming these claims. The New York Times also reported that Washington considers ISIS-K to be behind the attack.

Ruslan Suleymanov, a Middle East expert, expressed skepticism to Meduza about whether ISIS-K currently possesses the necessary resources to organize such a large-scale terrorist attack on the outskirts of Moscow. However, the attack doesn’t appear to have been “high-tech” in nature: the perpetrators clearly had problems with their escape plan, as well as with weapons. (In a video from the attack, sparks are seen flying from the barrel of one of the machine guns, which could indicate that either the ammunition or the weapons themselves were in poor condition.)

Suleymanov said it’s also difficult to confirm whether messages on ISIS Telegram channels are authentic as the group’s accounts are regularly blocked, forcing it to create new ones. The posts about the Moscow attack come from ISIS-linked Amaq News Agency, not from ISIS-K directly. In one picture, the four alleged “participants in the operation” are shown with blurred faces against the backdrop of the Islamic State flag. Amaq later released a first-person body-cam video that clearly shows the attack on Crocus City Hall, corroborating the Islamic State’s involvement.

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ddlcaskblog · 8 months ago

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*cracks knuckles*

All right, Monika. I didn't want to have to do this, but you've given me no choice. Since you're so eager to know what our reality is like, it's time to show you...THE TRUTH.

*shows her footage and reports of the Hindenburg*

*shows her footage and reports of Pearl Harbor*

*shows her footage and reports of D-Day*

*shows her footage and reports of FDR's death*

*shows her footage and reports of V-E Day*

*shows her footage and reports of Hiroshima*

*shows her footage and reports of the end of WWII*

*shows her footage and reports of Harry Truman's upset 1948 presidential win*

*shows her footage and reports of Douglas MacArthur's firing*

*shows her footage and reports of Sputnik's launch*

*shows her footage and reports of John Glenn's orbit of Earth*

*shows her footage and reports of Marilyn Monroe's death*

*shows her footage and reports of the Cuban Missile Crisis*

*shows her footage and reports of JFK's assassination*

*shows her footage and reports of Lee Harvey Oswald's assassination*

*shows her footage and reports of Lyndon Johnson dropping out of the 1968 presidential race*

*shows her footage and reports of MLK's assassination*

*shows her footage and reports of RFK's assassination*

*shows her footage and reports of the Apollo 11 moon landing*

*shows her footage and reports of the Apollo 13 crisis*

*shows her footage and reports of the Kent State Massacre*

*shows her footage and reports of the Munich Olympics crisis*

*shows her footage and reports of Richard Nixon's resignation*

*shows her footage and reports of the fall of Saigon*

*shows her footage and reports of Elvis Presley's death*

*shows her footage and reports of the Iran Hostage crisis*

*shows her footage and reports of John Lennon's assassination*

*shows her footage and reports of Ronald Reagan being shot*

*shows her footage and reports of the Challenger explosion*

*shows her footage and reports of the fall of the Berlin Wall*

*shows her footage and reports of the beginning of the First Gulf War*

*shows her footage and reports of the Rodney King Riots*

*shows her footage and reports of the Waco standoff*

*shows her footage and reports of the O.J. Simpson saga*

*shows her footage and reports of the Oklahoma City bombing*

*shows her footage and reports of the Flight 800 explosion*

*shows her footage and reports of the Atlanta Olympics bombing*

*shows her footage and reports of Princess Diana's death*

*shows her footage and reports of Bill Clinton's impeachment*

*shows her footage and reports of the Columbine Massacre*

*shows her footage and reports of JFK Jr's death*

*shows her footage and reports of the 2000 presidential election controversy*

*shows her footage and reports of 9/11*

*shows her footage and reports of the beginning of the Iraq War*

*shows her footage and reports of Hurricane Katrina*

*shows her footage and reports of the Virginia Tech Massacre*

*shows her footage and reports of the 2008 Great Recession crash*

*shows her footage and reports of Barack Obama's 2008 election*

*shows her footage and reports of Michael Jackson's death*

*shows her footage and reports of Osama Bin Laden's killing*

*shows her footage and reports of the Sandy Hook Massacre*

*shows her footage and reports of the Boston Marathon bombing*

*shows her footage and reports of the Pulse Nightclub Massacre*

*shows her footage and reports of Donald Trump's upset 2016 presidential win*

*shows her footage and reports of the Vegas Country Festival Massacre*

*shows her footage and reports of the Parkland Massacre*

*shows her footage and reports of Donald Trump's first impeachment*

*shows her footage and reports of Kobe Bryant's death*

*shows her footage and reports of the COVID Pandemic*

*shows her footage and reports of George Floyd's killing*

*shows her footage and reports of Jan. 6th*

*shows her footage and reports of Donald Trump's second impeachment*

*shows her footage and reports of the fall of Kabul*

*shows her footage and reports of the Uvalde Massacre*

*shows her footage and reports of the Maui wildfires*

Keep in mind, Monika, that this is a VERY small sample size of what our world--indeed, my native nation in the United States--has had to deal with over time. This is just some of the stuff we humans in this universe have been able to capture on live film or tape, and we've been around for MILLIONS of years.

If you STILL feel brave enough to want to traverse this world, well...there's not much I or anyone else could probably do to stop you. But you deserve to know the truth--what it was you were ACTUALLY driven to kill the other club members for.

If you need some time alone to reflect and gather yourself, I understand. If you need someone to talk to, I get that too, and I'm here if you need me.

Take care and be good to yourself--and the other club members. <3

M: "..."

M: "Just...Don't show the girls."

#doki doki literature club #doki #ask #ask blog #send asks #ddlc #answered

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fatehbaz · 2 years ago

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[I]n the period of eerie suspension before the explosion [...], those who registered the [...] uncanny [...] experience[d] a condition that [...] would become familiar to everyone living in a targeted city during the Cold War: the sense that the present survival and flourishing of the city were simultaneously underwritten and radically threatened by its identity as a nuclear target. [...] [I]nhabitants of Cold War cities [...] became accustomed to a more overt and permanent variant of the uncanny frisson [...]. Lobbing incendiaries and explosives through the roofs and windows […], the British gunners gutted portions of the Dublin city center; during the week of the Rising, 500 people died […]. The more frequent and extreme outbreaks of traumatic violence in everyday urban life […], in the early-twentieth-century imaginary, the city had begun to host new forms of sudden mass death and severe physical destruction.

Cities had, of course, been sites of mass death before 1916.

But the Easter Rising differed from nineteenth-century urban barricade fighting in the use, principally by British soldiers, of more precise and destructive weapons; fired from the ground, from rooftops, and from gunships in the Liffey, the new cannons, incendiaries, and machine guns rapidly reduced whole blocks of the city center to ruins. These emerging military technologies and strategies link the Rising to the Great War then raging in England and on the Continent, whose fields and cities had become proving grounds for new weaponry and modes of warfare. In Ireland and the Great War, [...] “Like the Western Front [the Easter Rising] became a war of attrition, and the lessons of the Western Front were taught again in the streets of Dublin.” […]

---

Though the shelling of Dublin in 1916 reminded observers of Ypres, Louvain, and other European cities ruined in the Great War, it might as credibly have called to mind a different list: Canton, Kagoshima, and Alexandria. During the second half of the nineteenth century, British naval bombardments made rubble of these coastal cities […].

The naval bombardment of undefended cities and civilians, particularly those in colonial territories, paved the way for the first airplane bombardments, in which the imperial powers of Europe dropped bombs on nonwhite, non-European adversaries and anticolonial forces.

Italy pioneered airplane bombardment in 1911 by bombing Arab oases outside Tripoli; British planes bombed Pathans in India in 1915, Egyptian revolutionaries and the Sultan of Farfur in 1916, a Mashud uprising on the Indian-Afghanistan border in 1917, and Somaliland and the Afghan cities of Dacca, Jalalabad, and Kabul in 1919.

---

Several years before the inhabitants of European cities experienced it, aerial bombardment had been established as a uniquely colonial nightmare. [...] [T]he initial use of airplane bombs against colonies was foreseen and even fed by a racist fantasy pervading early-twentieth-century European science fiction, a fantasy of bombing subject races either into submission or out of existence. The willingness of several signatory nations to ignore Article 25 when bombing nonwhite soldiers and civilians made colonial towns and cities the first civilian spaces secured by the implied threat of bombardment from above.

In the world war […] the brief tenure of aerial bombardment as an exclusively colonial technique ended when imperial powers launched the first bombing campaigns against the cities of other imperial powers, initiating a change that would later find its apogee in the nuclear condition: the reconfiguration of the major metropolis as target.

---

All text above by: Paul K. Saint-Amour. “Bombing and the Symptom: Traumatic Earliness and the Nuclear Uncanny.” Diacritics Volume 30, Number 4, Winter 2000, pp. 59-82. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism.]

#today 29 april is anniversary of surrender and end of the easter rising in 1916 #tidalectics #ecologies #haunted #geographic imaginaries #archipelagic thinking

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aftaabmagazine · 7 months ago

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They buried Qahar Asi with his poems

They buried Asi with his poems

By Rahmatullah Begana

Translated from the Farsi by Farhad Azad

Kabul's weather offered a mild respite on a somber autumn day, the city holding an unusual calm. No fighting erupted, and not a single rocket pierced the sky, a stark contrast to the usual barrage. It was September 28, 1994.

People tentatively emerged from their homes, children resuming their playful pursuits. We longed for a break, a departure from the usual war-ridden bedlam. The people huddled in their corners. As the sun dipped low, Qahar Asi approached us.

Due to the intense conflict in Kabul's Microrayon sectors, Asi, freshly returning from Iran, had left his home and now lived with his in-laws in Karte Parwan. We also lived in Karte Parwan. On September 28, Asi appeared on our doorstep, inviting us for a stroll.

We invited Asi inside, but he declined. With some reluctance, my brother Azizullah Ima and I finally ventured out with Asi.

The people of Kabul had quarantined themselves due to the rocket strikes and fighting. Aside from a few desperate souls, no one dared venture beyond their doorways.

Asi's insistence on an outing filled me with dread. Intuition warned of impending unease that day, yet I remained blind to the unfolding events. Asi led us away. Before long, he began reciting poetic verses from his earlier days.

We immersed ourselves in the warmth of prose and poetry alongside Qahar Asi. He recited his verses, each carrying a wealth of tales and portrayals. It was as if he sensed that these were the concluding hours of his life, eager to share his newly composed verses with his audience and friends.

Asi turned the pages where he had penned his poems, his enthusiasm radiating as he retrieved one poem after another from his shirt pocket, reading them gracefully and eloquently.

"Kabul, O Kabul,

the gushing blood from your throat,

how does the earth hold it without pain?

Who will lift your shredded coffin towards the sun?"

Asi carefreely recited his verses as the distant echoes of rockets reached our ears. For the first time, genuine fear gripped me. Though we had grown accustomed to the explosions, the rockets seemed to be heading straight for us.

We walked a considerable distance, returning from the Bagh Bala area as the explosions grew louder. Undeterred by the danger, Asi continued to recite in his woeful yet magnetic voice.

"These words aren't for the harsh autumn wind

these words aren't for the boulders

these words aren't for the eroded, lofty slopes.

the mountain has its sorrow,

the river has its sorrow,

the grove has its sorrow,

sorrows that destroy them"

Asi continued his passionate storytelling, and the explosions were ongoing. I suggested we veer from the main road close to the Kart-e Parwan intersection, away from danger, towards the narrow lanes nestled against the high hill.

In those days, the narrow lanes were lined with single-story mud homes, and only a few people moved about.

Kabul's ongoing war had ravaged the electricity and water systems. We had access to running water one day out of the week and electricity on just a handful of days.

Our journey continued alongside Asi's recitations. At a communal fountain, men gathered water, kids played marbles in the middle of the alleyway, and some children sought refuge, playing with dolls by the wall.

Asi recited verses with fervor. Due to my worry, I couldn't fully comprehend my friend's words. My brother and I trailed by his side.

The autumn wind carried Asi's voice, rising and falling with his recitation. I was nearing our home and eager to arrive quickly, yet time stood still. Our legs felt heavy, defying our attempts to move faster.

Seconds stretched, heavy with danger, as time ticked towards a catastrophic event. Three friends walked unknowingly towards it.

Yet we pressed on, but time remained stagnant. And then, from behind, the calamity that followed trapped us in the alleyway, forever altering our lives. No longer were we whole individuals. We were labeled the wounded and martyred.

Everything fused, and Asi fell silent. We, along with the little boys and girls of the alley, crashed to the ground, enveloped in dust and blood. Asi's recitation seemed to mingle with the cries of the wounded children as their voices choked the alley.

After a few seconds, as the dust and debris rose from the ground, I realized the absolute silence that had settled over Asi and Ima. Only my voice remained—a voice of sorrow, pain, separation, lament, despair, and hopelessness.

I couldn't understand what had happened, what catastrophe had befallen us, why we lay on the ground, covered in dust and blood. I was utterly bewildered and stunned!

The situation in this alley stood deeply sorrowful and heartbreaking. Yet, no one realized that a talented poet of verses had fallen, covered with soot and blood.

Liberty itself had fallen, lifeless and without support. No one reached out to help, for it no longer needed a hand. The dead and wounded littered the alleyway, and Asi— the voice of unwavering freedom— had also been silenced, deprived of life. Young men from the alley rushed to help, taking us to the hospital. The relatives cried and wailed loudly.

Asi and Ima lay still beside the blue-tinted gutter— people supposed they were martyrs. I begged the young men to help my brothers! They explained another vehicle would transport them and urged me to hurry due to my severe bleeding. Ima and Asi rested a short distance from me, motionless and silent.

The young men in the alley lifted me and took me to Abu Zaid, the nearest and the only private clinic in Kabul, in the Kart-e-Parwan neighborhood. When Ima and Asi arrived at the general hospital, the clinic staff mistook them for dead and placed them in the morgue.

I was in better condition than they were. A large piece of debris had struck my right leg, breaking the shin bone. A doctor at the clinic wrapped my leg with a bandage to slow the bleeding.

He said, "We can't do anything more here. You must transfer yourself to a government hospital."

The sky darkened, yet the sound of piercing rockets continued. An ambulance transported me to the government hospital. Memories of my mother's illness and death filled me in this familiar hospital, where I first saw Ahmad Zahir, the famous singer—days of hoping for my mother's recovery had been spent in its rooms and corridors.

But this time, a different tragedy had brought me here. Even as my condition remained poor as I entered the large hall and corridor, countless stretchers overflowed, leaving no standing room and crowding the space with the wounded and dead.

The young doctor looked familiar. He addressed the people who had brought me, "There is no space for beds here. Take your patient to the Wazir Akbar Khan hospital."

I recognized him and asked, "Are Asi and my brother among the wounded?"

He recognized me, too, and gently removed the white cover from my brother's bare body. "Don't worry, he is receiving treatment now," he reassured me.

Seeing my brother's face, I relaxed momentarily but remained deeply worried. My eyes searched for Asi. Once again, I joined the wounded on an ambulance ride to the Wazir Akbar Khan hospital.

On the way, a girl with eyes closed died silently as other children moaned in pain. One of these teenagers repeated: "O God, what sin have we committed that we are torn into pieces like this?"

The streets were empty. We quickly reached the hospital. As they removed me from the vehicle and placed me on a stretcher, many worries filled my mind. What had happened? Would Asi and Ima receive treatment?

The pain in my leg intensified. They carefully lifted my broken leg with both hands and took me to the hospital's surgical operations department. At 9:00 pm, I entered the operating room without my family present or a blood supply.

Before I passed out, a doctor who was busy operating on a patient asked his colleague, "What was the news at 8 o'clock?"

The second doctor replied, "Is there anything else in this country besides stories of pain and sorrow? Did you hear that the young poet—I'm talking about Qahar Asi— was martyred in today's rocket attack!"

"With God, we belong, and to him, we shall return," I thought to myself. Hearing this news, despair and hopelessness washed over me so vigorously that I could only remain silent and suppress my grief.

Asi's stories, laughter, passion, vitality, life, and poetry flashed through my mind. I said goodbye to everyone in my imagination. I didn't think I could survive this struggle alongside him. Seconds later, I passed out.

After the surgery, which took about two hours, according to Dr. Mozef, I struggled to regain consciousness due to extreme anemia. Death lingered close by. I felt as though I was hanging upside down from my feet.

My fight between life and death raged for more than seven hours. Finally, my condition began to improve slightly. I opened my eyes in the morning to a dark room with only the faintest dawn light filtering through the curtains. I couldn't remember anything.

Confused, I tried to understand why I was in this situation to no avail. I felt no pain, only the effects of severe anemia and the intense side effects of anesthesia, which slurred my words.

I felt people hovering over me, but my eyes wouldn't focus properly. I couldn't understand where I was! The silence puzzled me. Then, I recognized the dimmed hospital lights and the faint glow from outside.

I surveyed my surroundings; everything seemed strange, black and white. Seeing the IV stand confirmed my location. But none of my companions from the ambulance or the neighborhood kids, Ima and Asi, shared this space.

I remained in the hospital for days. Once I recovered somewhat, I went to visit Asi's mother. Upon my arrival, her distress intensified. She is a wise and kind woman who sees me as a reminder of her lost child, her young son who died too soon – a reminder of her son's untimely passing and the enduring pain she bears. Even though 26 years have passed since Asi's martyrdom, she still mourns and weeps as she did in the early days of Asi's death.

Asi's mother lost her composure at seeing me and began to cry. Everyone relived the great sorrow of the poet's death for a few moments.

I said, "Mother, I wish I had died instead of Asi."

She replied, "My child, you are the reminder of my son, and I sense Asi in you. May God grant you longevity and virtue."

I asked, "What happened to the poems from the day of Asi's incident?"

Mubin, Asi's brother, who was sitting with his mother, answered, "We buried Asi with his clothes and poems."

May the memory of my dear and beloved friend and companion, Abdul Qahar Asi, be cherished!

- - -

On September 26, 2020, the digest "8 AM" published Rahmatullah Begana's lamentable words, marking 26 years since Qahar Asi's voice fell silent. Begana's memory paints a dour portrait of Kabul in the autumn of 1994, a city choked by smoke and despair, where the relentless rhythm of rockets tore through the fragile silence. It was amidst this symphony of destruction that lives shattered, and so too, a poet's pen.

Begana's words weave an intimate tapestry of his friend and poet, Qahar Asi. He paints Asi's final moments with heartbreaking clarity, showing how even as the world crumbled around him, Asi clung to the lifeline of his poetry, his lyrics a defiant chorus against the descending darkness.

Though Asi was cruelly taken, his legacy blazes a defiant trail against oblivion. His poems are not merely words but searing echoes of a people's wounds, dreams, and resilience—beacons that will continue to light the path for generations to come.

—Farhad Azad

April 13, 2024

#kabulistan #kabul #qahar asi #poetry #prose #history #poet

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sachiko6243 · 1 year ago

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The good old Doc - Part 15

Missed the start? No problem, here is the first part, the following ones are always linked at the end, so you dont have to search endlessly. 😉

Summary: Lieutenant Lilith Adams enlisted back in the military, only to be met with a certain cocky pilot. Overcoming certain past traumas, she tries to fit in with the team of pilots as their personal medic. Soon finding her stuck between a certain good looking aviator and her work morals.

This is a series which is currently in the making, so I don’t exactly know how long it is going to be. 😊

Word count: 2402

Warnings: Injurery of a team mate (i wont spoil it), description of combat, Lillith doing something stupid

Listening in on the calls over the radio, I made myself ready to step in. Fastening the straps of my gear, taping the lace of my shoes with duct tape. Attaching the radio to my helmet, I tried to concentrate on the calls coming from the daggers. I had an uneasy feeling about the outcome of the mission. Even though the daggers seemed to have it under control, I was on edge. Slowly making my way towards the deck. A sudden explosion in the sky made me switch my walk to a run. In my ear I could hear Phoenix scream: “Dagger three hit. I repeat Dagger three hit. Losing a lot of fuel. Returning to ship.”

“Maverick to Daggers. All return to ship. We cant keep the fight going. Low on ammo and flares. I repeat: report to ship.” Mavericks voice was agitated, but strong. I could hear the team acknowledge his command. Now I was on deck, watching the planes land and being backed into their parking spot. But when it was Roosters turn to land, an SU-57 appeared next to him, firing a missile. I could see, that he tried to dodge it, but he failed. His plane exploded in a big fire ball. My scream rang through my ears, and before I knew it, I was running down the stairs, only to crash into Admiral Simpson. I shook him off, calling out for Rooster: “Rooster. Talk to me. Report status.”

Out from the smoke I could see Roosters body sinking down towards the water, his parachute slowing his fall. “Rooster, to ship control. I am alive.” I sank to my knees, thanking God. But a salve of bullets fired from the other plane towards Rooster, made me look up. Seeing his body being pushed through the air by the force of the hitting bullets. Again, I ran towards the edge of the ship, not seeing the jet turn around and aim for the open deck. Admiral Simpson yanked me back behind cover, right before the first bullets hit the ship. The ground in front of my feet got ripped open, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was Rooster bleeding out on the ocean.

I switched channels to speak with Mickey and his team up in the helicopters. “Mickey, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Wifey.” Came the answer.

“You able to pick me up?” I ignored Cyclone screaming in my ear, trying to force me into the ship. The whole dagger squat was standing behind the last open door. Jakes arm extended, only held back by Maverick and Payback. I ripped myself free from Simpson, shoving him towards the door, locking it behind him. I could see the team hammer against the glass of the door and the windows next to it. In my helmet Mickey answered: “Not with this jet aiming at the ship. I am currently hiding behind the bridge.” The clicking in the radio signaled another member joining. It was the dagger squat, probably scrambled around a microphone and speakers.

Taking a deep breath, I looked down the runway. “Then we do it Kabul style.”

“Kabul style? Are you crazy, Wifey? That runway isn’t even 330 yards long. There is no way in heaven, that you can get on the helicopter, without being shot.” Mickey spoke. Fear in his voice. “Yeah, I know.” I answered. “But if you fly over it, slowing down to five knots, dragging a rope, I could make it. I jump on the rope, and you swing me left to dodge the bullets. The jet is only able to fly rounds, they cant stop midair. We have to get me up, when he turns.”

Admiral Simpsons voice boomed over the radio: “Lilith, you are not doing it. That’s an order!”

“I will not let Rooster die out there. Mickey, get ready.” I retorted, ignoring the screams and orders from Cyclone and my team. I knew what I was about to do was dipshit crazy, but Rooster was family. And family needs to be protected.

“Woman, you are mad as hell.” Mickey snickered over the coms. “You have about 20 seconds, before the jet turns and fires again. If you are not up in that time, I have to swerve, to dodge him.”

“Got it, Mickey.” I answered, shuffled towards the runway, hiding behind cover from the coming jet up front. When he flew over me, I started running, calling out for Mickey. I heard the wings of the helicopter thunder over me, a rope being let down. Behind me I could feel the jet slow down, turning and firing. Bullets burst into the ground behind me. And I jumped, grabbing onto the rope. “Swing me, Mickey!” I called and instantly I could feel the helicopter steering right. The jet flew over my head with such a speed, that the breaking sound barrier, crashing in shortly after the jet passed us, left my ears ringing.

To my surprise the jet didn’t turn around this time. He flew southside, back to were the enemy ship was stationed. I was being pulled inside the helicopter and strapped to the running line above my head. Under me I could make out the dagger squat breaching the door and heading for their jets as well. Jakes black helmet reflecting in the sun, when he jumped in his jet. People were surrounding him, loading his missile bearers punching hoses in his aircraft. He was getting ready for lift off. I averted my eyes searching the ocean for Roosters bright red parachute. And luckily, I found him very quickly, giving Mickey the directions. I was leaning out of the helicopter, making myself ready to jump down and inspect Rooster. My old team around me, ripped the folded carrier from the back of my tiny medical bag, folding it out and handing it back to me.

When we were low enough, I jumped out, biting my teeth at the cold water. I swam the last meters to Rooster, fighting the waves and the weight of my clothes. Pulling the knife from my thigh, I cut him out of his parachute, guiding his body over mine to keep him afloat. “Talk to me, Rooster. Its me Lilith. I am here to save you. Talk to me.” I could make out a groan and then coughing from the man, floating on me. “Good Rooster good. Keep your eyes open. Everything will be alright. I will get you out here.” Pressing the carrier under his body I was able to get him on to it. Strapping him in. Then I laid on top of him, attaching the carrier to my body harness. “Got him. Pull us up, Mickey.”

In the distance I heard a plane break sound barrier. Jake. He was supersonic. But the bang of it was soon whirled away, by the thundering blades of another helicopter approaching us. “Quick, Mickey. Get us out here.” I yelled, fearfully watching the helicopter in front of me turn and the men inside facing me with machine guns. I closed my eyes, ready to feel the bullets sift through us. But the pain never came.

Instead, I heard and felt an explosion very close to me. When I opened my eyes, I could see the other helicopter falling towards the ocean in burning flames. “Good afternoon. This is your savior speaking. Please be advised, that nobody touches my girl, when I am around.” Jakes voice croaked through the radio, audibly carrying his proud smile.

“For fucks sake, Jake. You are indeed the best man I ever had.” I sighted. A big stone of fear falling off me. Mickey snickered over the radio. “Shit man. You are indeed good.” I chuckled, while me and Rooster were pulled inside. I knew what was about to come. “I am. I am very good, Mickey.” Hangmans voice dripped with confidence and I knew, that he was currently smiling like an idiot. “And Lilith, even if I know how good I am, hearing you say it under different occasions than being pinned below me, is the best compliment, I have ever received.” I laughed at his cockiness, clearly trying to ease the tension we were all in: “Shut your mouth, Bagman.” His snickering over the coms, faded, once I looked at Rooster.

Feeling Mickey turning the helicopter around, I fell to my knees completely hunched over Rooster. Cutting his flight suit open, searching for the entry wounds of the bullets. I ordered the rest of my team around on where to press down, to cease the bleeding, while I tried to get a good measurement of Roosters heartbeat. Mickey landed right after Jake pulled down his jet, and I could still feel the heat of the jet steam linger over the deck. With the help of several hands, we were able to switch Rooster from the helicopter onto the rolling stretcher from the medical department on ship. That’s when my monitor, supervising Roosters heartbeat, started to beep fanatically.

Without thinking I swung myself over Rooster, starting CPR, while the medical staff ran through the halls. I was cowboy riding him, Beetle, Cookie and Bambi, steering the stretcher through the ship, so I could see the rest of the dagger squat and Admiral Simpson running after us. But I didn’t care about their worried yelling. Instead, I barked orders: “Cookie, I need two shots of Adrenaline, to get him back. Beetle bring me 5 bags of O-, we will need as much as we can get, to bring him back. Bambi, get me 7ml of fentanyl going and prepare a second one. If we get him back, we are going to operate and I want this man to meet God, while we save his ass.” The men and women where swarming out, heading to get what I asked for. While I was being pushed into an operating room. Doors closing behind me, locking out the dagger squad.

Pov Phoenix:

I slumped down against the wall, next to the door of the operating room. All I could think of was Rooster being rolled through the ship. The way his flight suit was cut open, Lilith kneeling over him, performing CPR, while her hands were covered in his blood. He was dead and all I could hope for was Lilith performing a wonder in there to get him back. Bob and Payback sat down next to me. Bob visibly holding back tears, while Payback looked like he was about to punch someone. “He is going to be alright. He got to be. Its Rooster we are speaking off. That man is tough like a lion.” Bob tried to calm me down, but his shaky voice betrayed him. I sank into his arms, giving into my tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

Hangman and Admiral Simpson on the other hand, were screaming at each other unrestrained. “You disobeyed my orders, Lieutenant! I will not let this behavior slide. You will be under investigation for the shit you pulled out there! Commanding your jet being readied for takeoff, running it over a blown up taxiway, flying directly into a battle without knowing anything about the enemy lines!”

“I was saving my girlfriend. Your daughter. All due respect, Admiral, but I will not let my girl die out there, when there is something, I could do about it. And I did exactly that! Save my team, help her get Rooster back.” Hangman was literally in Cyclones face. His face distorted in anger. “I don’t care about your goddamn orders, if they are clearly wrong! Without my interference, there would be much more damage than Rooster being shot down. Lilith and her old team of marines would be dead by now!”

“And that’s exactly, why I will talk to her, once she is done with her work. The two of you have acted against several orders and safety rules. Not to mention the pure stupidity of the whole relationship thing going on!” Simpson barked back. “I should have never allowed you two to get so caught up in each other. Look what it has done. As soon as we arrive back in San Diego, you will pack your things and leave top gun. I will make some calls to get you stationed somewhere else!”

“If that’s the case, Admiral. I will hand in my termination. I will not let your hatred clouded mind separate Lilith and me. And if that means, I will loose my job as naval aviator, I will gladly do it. She is much more important than my career. Much more, than the orders that I get.” Hangman stepped back, pulling the pin, showing his membership of top gun, from his flight jacket and handing it over to Simpson.

That’s when Maverick stepped in. “Come on, Cyclone. You are too caught up in your emotions. Hangman might have acted against direct orders, but he brought home Rooster and Lilith. He did the right thing. Let it slide. You don’t want to lose them both. Because that’s whats going to happen. He will quit and Lilith will follow him. You know that.” Maverick, put his arms on Cyclones shoulders, looking him in the eyes. And by a wonder, that I might never understand, Cyclone slumped into his arms. Crying. The Admiral was crying.

“I am sorry. I just… The thought of losing Lilith… I couldn’t. Its too much.” He sank to his knees, steadying himself on the wall. “Forgive me Lieutenant, for letting my fear and anger out on you. I know you disobeyed a direct order, but you brought back my girl safe. She is alive because of you and I don’t know if I will ever be able to repay the gift you just made.” Hangman sank back against the wall. Covering his face with his hands. Coyote next to him, pulled him into a tight hug, not letting go, even when he fought against it.

Here we were. The whole team waiting for news on Rooster. Hangman and Cyclone, shook hands, agreeing to let the incident slide. The minutes ticked by, changing into hours. One after the other ran back to their cabins, showering and putting on their usual uniform. Maverick had managed to get a trolley with some food and water from the mess hall. And now we were sitting here, waiting and forcing down some food, that tasted like nothing.

Taglist: @hardballoonlove / @themorriganwitch

#hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #top gun

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89845aaa · 1 year ago

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sun-in-retrograde · 1 year ago

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Explosion Season

We don’t talk enough about fixed stars in astrology. Which is fine, but it’s kind of a pity because they’ve been deeply important in the past and also one of them might be about to explode.

It’s difficult to say exactly what Betelgeuse going supernova could mean because it’s not something astrologers have ever had to think about before. We have seen supernovas before during the history of astrology. Maybe as many as a dozen. They’ve sometimes been called “guest stars” because usually, the stars have been faint and unknown before they explode. Betelgeuse is not unknown. It’s the 7th brightest star in the night sky. We have thousands of years of studying it and usually, we’ve associated it with militarism and mind. It’s forms the sword-arm of Orion. Without it, most people would struggle to recognise one of the most recognisable constellations.

What’s Happening

In 2019 something inside Betelgeuse exploded spectacularly, pushing out a cloud of stellar material big enough to make several moons out of. The cloud of debris happened to shoot towards us, and this means that from our point of view, Betelgeuse dimmed as the material formed a cloud over it. This lasted through 2020 and 2021, but in 2023 the star unexpectedly got 50% brighter and seems to have lost 15% of its mass.

Why this is, is hard to say. It’s an old star and most astromoners believe it will explode within the next million years. Though since its recent weirdness some are now preducting a supernova within ten to a hundred years.

If it explodes it won’t harm us, but it will light up the sky like a full moon and last for months. Astronomically it would present a once in a civilisation chance to watch a supernova at close range. Astrologically, it’s unprecedented. But looking at what’s happened during the recent explosion gives us some hints.

Betelgeuse is at Gemini 28°45 and there are certainly dramatic conjunctions around the early 2020s. Lets look at what they mean:

Betelguese Conjunctions

Boris Johnson has the Sun at Gemini 28°27 and Venus at 28°45. The explosion at Betelgeuse coincided with him becoming Prime Minister and, via a very good general election result and a very bad national crisis, gaining remarkable levels of power. It’s worth noting that we’ve had two prime ministers since he lost power in 2022. Betelgeuse is unstable, and has been seen that way even when it was stable.

If you have something at 28 degrees of Gemini, lucky you! But don’t rely on sustained luck.

Betelgeuse Sextiles

Based on the storming of the winter palace, the USSR had the Moon at Leo 28°38 while Ukraine has Venus at Leo 28°09. During the Betelgeuse explosion and cloud, Russia invaded Ukraine. At stake for Russia is a sense of self - it saw, or has been encouraged for political reasons to see, Ukraine as Russian and as people who would accept them as liberators. A key weapon in the fight back for Ukraine has been international opinion. There’s been an outpouring of love for Ukraine and an ostracism of Russia.

Sextiles with an unstable Betelgeuse seem to be pretty fortunate if you use them right. It certainly encourages action. But if you’re going to use a Betelgeuse sextile, a phrase that keeps coming to mind is “Begin war but do not sow or undertake any good.” Betelgeuse's instability is an inconsistent friend. Don’t rely on it.

Betelgeuse Squares

Dylan Mulvany has Mars at 28°28 Virgo and ran head first into vociferous anti-trans hate campaign after producing an instagram video advertising beer while transgender. Kid Rock was highly involved in starting the boycott and he has Pluto in Virgo 29°38. This happened in April, where Betelgeuse had returned to a “normal” level of brightness from our point of view. It was only by June that we’d realise that April was not the end of the dimming event, but just a continuation of it before we saw Betelgeuse at its new level of brightness.

Betelgeuse Trines

The Fall of Kabul in 2021 began with a major assault by Taliban forces on 1 May with Jupiter at Aquarius 28°25. Jupiter went into retrograde and was at Aquarius 27°48 for the Taliban retaking the city on 15 August. It’s worth noting that the Taliban’s national rule has an ascendant in Leo 28°52 so the Taliban took Kabul with Jupiter Sextile their ascendant. Reading up on this, the ascendant sextile makes sense. The Taliban used disinformation and the low morale of government troops to take down the former government.

Betelgeuse Opposition

Prince Harry has Neptune in Sagittarius 28°39, King Charles has Jupiter in Sagittarius 29°53 and Prince William has his ascendant in Sagittarius 28°25. All these are in opposition to Betelgeuse. What we’ve seen in this period is Harry fleeing the country and criticising his family based on his opposition to their white supremacist ideals (Neptune), Charles’ plan to shrink the royal family and focus power on his immediate family has been impacted by a feud with his younger Sun and he’s been forced to shrink it down more than he’d like (very bad Jupiter vibes) and William has borne the brunt of accusations of racism and illicit affairs, which is rather Ascendant how you’re viewed stuff.

Again, the big energy Betelgeuse gives us is conflict and PR. A Betelgeuse opposition is worth checking closely. I don’t do synastry usually. But Betelgeuse seems to force it. If Betelgeuse is unstable it’s a challenging time for conflict with others who have a similar aspect to it.

Betelgeuse's current instability seems to have exacerbated conflicts, particularly where there’s synastry that involves it. Looking at these and other examples I have to note a prominence of Venus - which makes sense because we’re dealing with conflicts where ideals and communicating ideals seems to be key. The other thing that’s coming up a lot is inconjuncts. I haven’t used them here but there are a lot of them.

Betelgeuse explosion energy seems to have been giving intense and sometimes unexpected conflict, and often these are conflicts were nobody is quite sure what’s happening - the issue is incompatible energy, confusion, and lack of clarity. It’s so strange that we would be facing intense issues of confusion at a time where we have more information than ever. But maybe that’s part of the reason that our conflicts are PR based.

Betelgeuse used to have a 500 day brightness cycle. I suspect all seasons and cycles over there are broken now but the star might still reach an equilibrium now the dust has quite literally settled. There may be other events like this. We may even get to see The Big One - a supernova as bright as the full moon and a light show that lasts for months. I think we can take the 2019-2023 period as a bit of a rehearsal for future. This is going to be part of the astrological weather for a while, even if it’s too weird for us to properly get our heads around it.

#Betelgeuse #astrology #fixed stars

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