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10-31-24 07:19 PM
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Xeogaming Forums - General Chat - Boston bombings
  
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Rogue
Posts: 10086/11918
Not that it's any surprise to anyone at this point, but prosecutors are seeking the death penalty.
Katana
Posts: 3536/3649
I haven't read the article either, but I can't tell if I'm outraged or not.

I mean, on the surface, it seems terrible, but I heard another outlook mentioned, which was that their point could have been that evil doesn't always look evil.

Basically, I'd have to read the article to see for sure. If the magazine's point was that he was a pretty boy, actually, LOOKED like a boy, IS a boy, essentially, and their point was to illustrate that fact without glorifying what he did for the sake of, well, glory...then...I don't think this bothers me too much.

I mean, we live in a world of instant communication. Things get known to the public. I think at this point we'd have to look into changing as a society as a hole if we're going to say that publicity only makes people WANT to commit crimes because of the "popularity." but I guess that's kinda an entirely different rant?
Cteno
Posts: 3136/3416
You know, there was a time when it was a goal for people to say, "I'm going to work hard at what I do until I'm on the cover of Rolling Stone". It looks like it also now works for people who say, "Dang, I would kill to be on the cover of Rolling Stone".
Astrophel
Posts: 2634/2724
Setting aside the content of the article itself (as there's been debate about that and also I haven't read it), it seems like an utterly tactless grab for attention by Rolling Stone.
Rogue
Posts: 9792/11918
So did anyone have any opinions on the kid getting to be on the cover of Rolling Stone?
Elara
Posts: 8391/9736
Honor the religion and bury him according to custom... because we are better than that. Burning the body or desecrating it in some other way might feel good for petty vengeance, but it provides a rallying point for those who hate us more than any headstone ever will.
Cteno
Posts: 3091/3416
I don't have anything against Muslim beliefs, but it is against just about everybody's beliefs to massacre innocents, so I say lex talionis and burn him anyway.
Rogue
Posts: 9667/11918
There's debate about what to do with the older brother's body.

They would burn him and scatter the ashes so there isn't a place to mourn him or build a shrine of sorts, but it's against Muslim beliefs to cremate a body (hence why Osama was dumped in the ocean).

The article's pretty fascinating, discussing all the ways people have done away with an unwanted body (McKinley's assassin was dissolved in sulfuric acid).
Rogue
Posts: 9617/11918
Because I'm not sure how long this is going to stay online, I'm just going to quote this here. Some lovelorn person wrote this fanfic romanticizing the fuck out of this kid.

I do warn that it's sexually graphic (hence why it's hidden behind spoiler tags), and how they portray the situation is downright disturbing.

Also, who the hell writes erotic fiction in the SECOND PERSON?


Spoiler:
It had been a long night. Police banging on every door, the streets filled with booms of gunfire and bombs. There had finally been a break in the madness, finally a few minutes of peace. The police didn’t knock anymore, they were sure he was dead. He, as they described him, was the reason behind the madness. He was the reason this was all happening. He was the reason there were three civilians and a cop dead. He was the reason the bombs exploded in Boston.
Watertown was a small area, about a mile long. You had lived here your entire life, and you were happy here up until Monday. You didn’t believe that the sweet young boy could have caused such madness, you didn’t believe he even wanted to. No matter how many pictures and lies were spread, you just knew.
You decided it was finally time to try and sleep, it did you no good to sit on the couch and worry. You had been instructed to keep the door locked, but you were so confident that this boy was harmless, that If he did come running to your door you would happily let him in.
The creaking sound of footsteps on your hardwood floor woke you up after only one measly hour of sleep. It was too dark to see anything, as you had covered the windows to silence the violence outside. Your eyes searched the room endlessly trying to decipher what the cause of that eerie creaking was. A hand slipped over your mouth as a weight shifted on the bed beside you.
“Promise you won’t scream.” The scared voice said, while you nodded, your lips pressed against his hand.
“Are you Jahar?” You asked him, hoping he said yes.
“Yes, please don’t scream.” He sounded much more terrified than you could have possibly been.
“Are you okay?” You begged him to tell you he was fine, nobody really knew.
“I’m hit, in the leg, but I- wait what? You’re asking if I’m okay?” He was surprised, but calmer now.
“I know you didn’t do it, and even if you did, I know you aren’t harmful.” He sighed with your words, he felt safe for the first time since he saw his face on the television.
“You have cable?” he asked you, while he slid his hand over onto yours, gripping it tightly, you knew he was in pain.
You used your free hand to grab the remote and flick the channel back on. The light filling the room, you saw he was covered in blood.
“Jesus Dzhokhar you’re bleeding like mad!” He looked down at himself while you said that, the blood quickly running of his leg onto the once white bedspread.
“Fuck, I am. Where is the bathroom?” He slid his fingers out from yours.
You pointed him in the proper direction and watched him limp over to the door, leaving drops of blood on the floor in his path. It had been a few minutes now, and you hear a small cry of pain from the bathroom. You wanted to leave him alone but you couldn’t stand not helping, after all he had been through.
“You need any help?” You asked him, now realizing you were wearing the usual pajamas, which were a pair of boyshort panties and a loose white tank top, absolutely nothing else.
He looked up, he was sitting on the edge of the tub with the leg of his jeans rolled up above the knee, you could see a hole where the blood was coming from, he was trying to get the bullet out.
You rushed over before he could reply, grabbing a pair of tweezers from the medicine cabinet on your way. Kneeling on the ground infront of him, you grabbed a washcloth off of the towel shelf.
“Bite down on this love.” You directed him. You weren’t a trained medical professional, but you knew what to do in these situations.
He bit down on the towel, and wrapped his hands around his leg above the gunshot, slowing the bleeding. You didn’t hesitate, sticking the tweezers in and feeling for the bullet, you knew it would hurt but the faster the better. He groaned into the towel and his knuckles were turning white around his leg. You got hold of the bullet and pulled it out as quick as you could, grabbing the towel from him and shoving it down onto the wound. He breathed heavily and leaved his back against the wall as you held the towel in place, now more aware than ever that you were so close to naked.
You grabbed onto another rag and wrapped it around the first to hold it in place, after looking over your work you smiled a bit to yourself, realizing the amount of pain he was in was lessening. You went back to the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of oxy’s that you had been prescribed a while ago for back aches, handing him three, he popped them in his mouth and dry swallowed them immediately.
“You know, you’re really pretty for a terrorist sympathizer.” Jahar finally spoke after the medicine kicked in.
“What did you expect?” You asked him, more comfortable with your nakedness now knowing he found you attractive.
“Firstly I expected you to scream at the top of your lungs that I was here.”
You shook your head, noticing him smile as he said this.
“Let’s get you laying down, Jahar, you’re getting loopy.”
You helped him walk back to your bed. Ripping off the white comforter and using it to wipe the trail of blood off the floor before stuffing it deep in the back of the closet, and grabbing out a black comforter to cover your new friend with.
He was leaning against the headboard, his bushy hair looked just like it had on t.v. Partly covered by the hood of the infamous grey sweatshirt.
“Did you rob that 7/11?” You asked him, as you sat on the bed next to him.
“Noo, of course not, I was just buying something to eat, I guess they just decided to use that picture and say I was robbing it.”
“And that cop?”
“What cop?”
“You haven’t been watching the news? A cop was killed at MIT, they’re blaming you and your brother.”
You saw his face drop, he was suddenly remembering that his brother was dead. You knew that was enough questions for now.
You assumed the first thing he would do was fall asleep, but he sat there, droopy eyes, smiling at everything you said. The fact that this kids life was now ruined was bothering you to no end.
“How old are you?” he asked you
“18” you replied.
“Do you live alone?”
“yeah, don’t worry, nobody is going to come in and notice you.”
“Oh I wasn’t worried about that, I just didn’t want them to hear us.” You were confused about what he meant
“Hear us what?” You asked, only a second before he leaned over and pressed his lips up to yours.
You were shocked for a second before kissing him back, passionately, his hand was sliding up your bare thigh now, you could tell he was as good of a wrestler as they had said on t.v, you could feel the strength in his hand as he gripped onto you. He slid his tongue in your mouth, pulling your leg so that it was over his lap. You could feel him growing harder on you now, his dick was rubbing against your panties. He slid off the underwear and put his hand back on your thigh, he still had all his clothes on, and slowly he started rubbing himself against you, making you as wet as possible. A bit of light shone through the window, a bit of panic swept over you and you pushed him away, and ran over to the window.
You opened the shade enough to see you, and you saw the big bright light of a helicopter search light shining all around the neighborhood. You thought they knew, but quickly they changed paths and you could tell they were looking randomly. You were so scared for Jahar, but he seemed calm. He was behind you suddenly, while your hands held on to the frame of the window he slid his hand down your stomach and started rubbing it against your slit. He kissed your neck, moaning a bit as he started to push himself against your ass. You were surprised he could hold himself up with the pain from being shot, but you assumed the adrenaline and the pain killers were helping him out a lot. You reached behind yourback and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down with his boxers and exposing his hard dick. It was bigger than you had imagined, and he slid it between your legs from behind as soon as you had taken it out. It rubbed against your slit as he moved back and forth. His hand that had been rubbing your clit now spread between your lips as he maneuvered his body to push the head of his hard cock against your pussy. At first you thought it wasn’t going to go in, he steadily pushed against you, rubbing your clit with his thumb, making you want it even more.
He kissed your neck, sucking on it to leave his mark, biting down every now and then. When he breathed out you got chills down your spine, making your nipples hard when he squeezed them.
“cmon baby, give me something to think about in jail.”
As he said that, his dick slid into you finally, releasing all the frustration you had built up. He slammed you against the window, the curtain fell to the floor. You tried to push away so you could get him away from the window, but he was fucking you so well you didn’t have the strength to. Your tits were pushed against the cold window as he strode in and out of you, making you moan with your cheek touchingthe cold glass. He didn’t stop when you thought he would, he was too much for you now and he had to grip your thighs to keep you from falling to the ground. Suddenly the search light shone right at you, the sound of megaphones blaring things like “there he is!” “upstairs!” He shoved in you once more, hard and deep, making you both cum, both moaning, both hearts beating with such adrenaline. He pulled out of your, kissed your lips hard as he pulled his pants up.
“Don’t forget about me when the news stops showing my face baby.”
The door flew open, guns pointed at the back of his head, he was pushed to the ground and dragged out. They hardly even noticed you there, you assumed you would be arrested too for helping him, but they were so caught up in making him look bad, they just took him away.



Source
Astrophel
Posts: 2615/2724
Originally posted by Elara
Astrophel... a valid observation... but you have to admit it is true.


Wait, wait, I wasn't done.

Originally posted by Socrates
The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers.
Elara
Posts: 8382/9736
Astrophel... a valid observation... but you have to admit it is true.

And... eww. Just... eww! I've never understood hybristophilia at all.
Rogue
Posts: 9614/11918
Women are apparently developing insane crushes on this kid.

Source

There were a few Tumblrs dedicated to fan fiction and pictures of him, but they've since been cleared out.

Word of the day is hybristophilia.
Astrophel
Posts: 2612/2724
Originally posted by every generation, ever.
Yeah... the next gen are just sad.

Elara
Posts: 8372/9736
Yeah... the next gen are just sad.

So yeah, case in point, on Thursday I had to explain to a high school senior that "raghead" was a racial slur. He thought that was just another name for Middle Eastern.
True Flight
Posts: 5148/5245
The next generation already thinks we are too old and should be put aside to die on our own. O_o no shit.
Elara
Posts: 8369/9736
Sorcha, I think you actually did a lot of good just by talking to her about it and letting her know she wasn't alone.

I know there are a lot of groups that help Vets with PTSD, like the Wounded Warrior program... maybe you could advocate that they reach out to the people affected by the bombings to help with things like counseling services? Participating in the runs is great as well, but I think it would be nice if more could be done.

All I have been able to do so far is try to stem the tide of ignorance in our next generation. All they hear is "Muslim" and they just started making the most offensive comments possible. Teaching hatred only perpetuates the violence and they just don't get that.
FX
Posts: 3686/3775
Originally posted by Rogue
They found the missing student who was smeared as being the second suspect. Unfortunately it's possible that he died before finding out his name was cleared.


Well he's been missing since March, so there's a chance he never even knew he was implicated, or what happened.
True Flight
Posts: 5147/5245
So I was in the grocery store today. I walked along and this lady in a bright blue jacket and baseball cap came up to me and complimented my daughter. Which was cool and all. Upon looking closer, she was a participant in the Boston Marathon. She wore her baseball cap and her jacket to honor those who participated. I asked her if she had finished. Turns out that she finished about three minutes before the bombings. She said that she was with her family and all were safe. I then asked her if she was okay. She wondered what I was talking about and asked me why I was asking. I don't think she noticed, but I was wearing my Army Reserve polo shirt. I then pointed to the logo and said, "I've been to Iraq, and heard tons of bombings near by my office." The lady smiled and shook my hand. Then asked me if I ever had any issues with PTSD when I got home. I nodded and told her that I have been home for three years now still having issues with loud booms of thunder and wake up in the middle of the night to make sure that all doors and windows are locked. She started to nervously shiver and said that she was having some issues with loud noises. I consoled her and said it's alright because you're not alone on this. She even said that her children were having a hard time with this because they don't want to be separated from her. They almost lost their mother.

PTSD is no joke. It affects all ages. It's a shame that all these civilians have to go through the toughest part of recovery. I only wish the best for each runner and spectator. I wish there was a way I could help, but the only way to do so is to participate in 5ks and thus... 3 mile runs here I come.
Rogue
Posts: 9589/11918
They found the missing student who was smeared as being the second suspect. Unfortunately it's possible that he died before finding out his name was cleared.
Elara
Posts: 8361/9736
And everyone around here is now focusing on them being Muslim... thus the intolerance grows. Doesn't matter that it is a small percentage of the Islamic community that does shit like this... nope, gotta hate them all now.

*sigh*

I swear.... people are so stupid sometimes.
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Xeogaming Forums - General Chat - Boston bombings



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