Word: guns
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...Victorian novel, they press their nose against the windows of a house within which tables groan under jellies and pies. Relative poverty did not create and does not excuse international terrorism. But it can build a network of sympathy for those who take up the bomb and gun. Somehow the West, with its commitment to rationalism, belief in the future, confidence in the soothing effects of prosperity, has to learn how to talk to those with a different mental map--those for whom change is threatening, yesterday is more comforting than tomorrow and faith is a rock amid shifting sands...
...something of a taste for it. Local English teacher Najib Kuraishi, 20, relates how crowds would gather at public executions held by the Taliban. "Well, it was quite something to see, a line of 10 people being hanged," he says. Asked if he will ever give up his gun, one Northern Alliance commander says, "Never. An Afghan is not a man without a gun...
...bearded American in a Harley-Davidson cap and mirrored sunglasses raised Dave on the radio. "Shit...shit...O.K....Shit...O.K. Hold on, buddy, we're coming to get you," he said. Then, cutting the radio, he turned to his commander: "Mike is MIA. They've taken his gun and his ammo. We have another guy. He managed to kill two of them with his pistol, but he's holed up in the north side with no ammo." As a hurried discussion of tactics began, Harley-Davidson went back to his radio. Then he cut in: "Shit. Let's stop...
...special-operations man glanced up at the cloud and shouted, "Incoming shrapnel--get down!" As the dust cloud cleared, a U-shaped hole the size of a small swimming pool appeared in the wall next to the northeast tower. The tank had flipped onto its back, its gun turret blown off. Alliance soldiers, bleeding, coated in dust, began sliding down the side of the fort and staggering across the surrounding cotton fields. "It missed," said a soldier named Afiz, blood dripping from his eyes and ears. "I don't know where my friends are." From under the fort's entrance...
...Earlier that day, Roosevelt had made the eyes of Harvard President Charles W. Eliot, Class of 1853, go wide by slamming a large pistol onto a guest room dresser and declaring his habit of packing heat in public places, including, it seems, Harvard’s normally gun-free commencement platform...