Podcasts about Uzbek

# 64 - in conversation with London-based, Uzbek multidisciplinary artist, Aziza Kadyri Aziza Kadyri is passionate about exploring new ways of engaging with cultural heritage, with a particular focus on textiles and costume—art forms that have traditionally been labelled as 'feminine'. She's also deeply interested in how XR/AR/VR and AI technologies can enhance artistic research, edutainment, and socially engaged practices. At the heart of her practice is a commitment to participatory work, especially within Central Asian and Uzbek communities. In this episode, we dive into her role in co-creating the exhibition for the Uzbekistan National Pavilion at the 60th Venice Biennale. Through this conversation, Aziza shares her vibrant, globally-spanning journey toward becoming an established artist, showcasing her work around the world. Most importantly, she highlights her mission to amplify the voices of Central Asian women artisans—whose stories have often been overlooked by history. References: Aziza website https://www.azizakadyri.com/ Aziza Instagram https://www.instagram.com/aziza.kadyri/  Qizlar Collective https://www.instagram.com/qizlarqizlarqizlar/ Uzbekistan Pavilion 2024 https://www.les-nouveaux-riches.com/interview-uzbekistan-pavilion-2024/ (Les Nouveaux Riches) Aziza about the Uzbek Pavilion part 1 https://www.instagram.com/p/DDKCtS9I53K/ Aziza about the Uzbek Pavilion part 2 https://www.instagram.com/p/DDws0tuIlKV/  Somerset House, London https://www.somersethouse.org.uk/  Aziza's favourite home food: Moshhurda or Moshkichiri (Uzbek soup/porridge with mung beans) ___ Buy me a coffee: https://buymeacoffee.com/kitchenconversations Become a Patron: https://www.patreon.com/kitchenconversations  Visit shop: https://www.etsy.com/de-en/shop/PatrycjaRozwora?ref=shop-header-name&listing_id=1398125905&from_page=listing Get in touch: https://www.instagram.com/kitchenconversations.podcast/  ___ Recording & editing: Patrycja Rozwora Mix & master: Jonas Kröper

In Paul's absence, Producer Tom joins Lee to talk about their five-a-side football match on the German-Swiss border and their Alpine groundhopping challenge to watch live games in three countries in the space of seven hours – using only public transport! Join Lee and Tom to find out how they almost lost a football in international waters, why they might face repercussions from the ‘Groundhop Police', whether they were mugged by young children in a micro-state and what happened when they dared to ask a sausage seller for a plate. That is followed by a round-up of the best headlines from the first international window of the year. New Caledonia, Uzbekistan, Cape Verde, Sudan and Venezuela are all chasing their World Cup debuts – but who stands the best chance of making it and could a Trump travel ban stop them entering the USA? Do Australia regret joining AFC now that OFC gets an automatic World Cup qualifying berth? And what is with South American nations calling up players to make their international debuts before appearing professionally at club level? Join us on Patreon for:- Bonus episodes, including an interview with James Montague about his time spent with ultra groups around the world- Blog posts about football in the likes of Africa, the Faroe Islands, Japan and Mongolia- Access to our Discord chat community containing hundreds of Sweeper listeners- Weekly newsletters with a FIFA+ match recommendation of the week- And much more besides!The Blizzard: Get 10% off subscriptions to The Blizzard by entering the code 'sweeper10' at checkout. Editor: Ralph Foster Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

(00:55) Rick Sebak occupies a special place in Pittsburgh's cultural landscape. For nearly four decades, he's crafted documentaries that capture the essence of our region, always with a keen eye for how food connects us to place and memory. "I celebrate Pittsburgh," he says simply, though his work does anything but take a simple approach to storytelling.What makes Rick's style so compelling is his deliberate choice to step away from the spotlight. "I never think I'm the story," he explains, preferring what a colleague once called "an explosion of voices" – letting the people he meets tell their own tales. This approach has carried him from showcasing local institutions like Kennywood and the bygone Original Hotdog Shop of Oakland, to traveling cross-country capturing America's diners, bakeries, and shoreline foods for national PBS audiences.(26:10) Our conversation weaves through Rick's formative upbringing with food – from his mother's home-cooked meals in Bethel Park to his transformative years abroad in France and Brazil. These experiences shaped not just his palate but his understanding that food tells our cultural story in ways politics and formal history often miss.(35:35) We explore his current projects, including the upcoming "Lucky to Live in Pittsburgh" premiering April 10th on WQED, featuring stories about Weatherbury Farm's ancient grains and other regional treasures. Rick also shares his latest Pittsburgh food experiences – from the Grant Bar's dual-style pork chops to Chaykhana's Uzbek cuisine in the West End. We end with a wine pick from Catherine Montest to pair with Rick's beloved 'cowboy' cookies. This episode offers a glimpse in cultural storytelling through the lens of what we eat, who prepares it, and how these experiences shape our memories and communities. As Rick puts it, quoting a saying he's adopted: "All food history is written on jello" – acknowledging both the fluidity and the fundamental importance of our culinary traditions.Support the showLiked the episode? We'd love a coffee!

Sibeal Pays A Visit.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.It is selfish to believe that your family will always love you. At some point you will be asked to earn it{Right where we left off}It was H-hour plus four. A Thai soldier fired another burst from his T A R 21. The other four soldiers around him did the same. They were using an overturned car as cover. He saw movement at a building across the street to his right. He fired off another few rounds. The figure fell to the ground. By hard-earned experience, he realized the enemy soldier had probably dived for cover, not been hit."Time to fall back. One block back," he hoped he didn't sound too shrill. "You two go first," he indicated the two townsfolk. His battalion major had drafted them minutes after the attack began. Any organized supply depot had been an open invitation for an artillery strike, so he had called for civilians to help carry the ammunition loads instead. These two had been attached to his platoon. Now they were with him.They nodded, hefted up the crate of 5.56mm and sprinted toward the rear while his men gave them cover fire. They made it. He named off two of his other men. It was their turn to go. After their sprint to safety, it was time for him and the last two to go. They ran past some terribly close flanking fire, but all made it.This Thai soldier wasn't the squad leader, or even the squad's second in command. He was a lowly Phon Thahan (Private, not 1st Class). Those two men were already dead. No, he was a common soldier who found other men listening to his orders so, by default, he was in command. His initial squad of ten had shrunk down to three. The fourth man had been part of the regimental staff, a driver, sent into the firefight to replace losses. He still could point and shoot, which was all that mattered at the moment.At the next block he found the two civilians. His men dumped their empty clips on them, then positioned themselves for the next enemy rush. The leader of this ad hoc force took the driver over to the far corner of the building they sheltered behind. Too often, going inside buildings was a death trap. The enemy would corner you then call in their artillery."Guard this corner," he told the driver. "I'll be checking up on you." The frightened soldier nodded, then took up his post. Now he had a few seconds to consider his position. He was running out of town to retreat through. Behind him lay open fields. Just then he saw the tale-tell site of a Dragon Anti-Tank missile firing from the next raised roadway to his rear-right.He couldn't see if it hit anything. There was no huge explosion. Still, it indicated that other elements of his battalion were in the fight. From what little briefing he had been given when the attack started, the major had placed his heavy machine guns and recoilless rifles on each flank to stop the enemy's mobile forces from getting around his command and surrounding them.Little did the soldier understand he was involved in a textbook defense by foot-bound infantry versus armored opponents. His two townsmen were busy shoving bullets into the thirty round magazines. His men had already engaged the enemy to the front. Gone were the cries of 'got him'. No one gave a damn anymore. They were too exhausted to care. Now they counted the comrades they had left, not the possible number of enemy out there.Six minutes later he heard the sound of death coming his way."Everyone down," he screamed a second before an artillery round flattened their shelter. For a few moments all he could do was gaze up at the heavens. His body hurt, his ears were ringing and the belief that he could stop now, he had given it his best shot and his part in this battle were over.He pulled himself and examined what he had left. He wasn't hurt if you didn't count the blood coming out his ears. He couldn't say the same for his companions. One of the townsmen had the top of his head torn off, his soulless eyes gazing up to the forever. One of his men had a smoking chunk of meat where his spine should have been. A second one was nursing a bad leg wound.The third soldier? He was already up and firing. The second townsmen was a bit dazed, yet looked like he could carry on. The soldier crouch-ran to check on the driver. He was laying on his belly. For a second he mourned for that fellow then the man got off a burst, then scooted back. He had been 'playing possum' in order to draw some enemy out. He was alive and fighting."We have got to get out of here," he told the man. "Get to the elevated road across the field then provide cover fire for the rest of us." The driver acknowledged the command, fired off one more burst then bolted for the field. The Thai made his way back to his other survivors. He gave them the same order, the civilian first.The wounded man? He couldn't make it with that leg wound and if any of the others carried him they would most likely die too."Cover us as long as you can," he ordered. The wounded shoulder crawled to the corner to relieve the only standing soldier."Go," he ordered that man. Off he sprinted. The leader placed two spare clips next to the wounded man, wished him luck, then it was his turn to sprint to safety. Close to the end, a few bullets hurried him along. He found the others had made it unwounded as well. The townsman was already shoving more bullets into the empty magazines.To his right was the remnants of the squad with the recoilless rifle and a light machine gun. To his left was a group of six Thahan Phran, paramilitary border guards. He rejoined the firing line. The enemy had overrun the buildings closest to them and were faced with the same quandary he had just overcome, the open field. When a man tapped his shoulder he nearly jumped out of his skin.It was his company commander."You've been doing well. I'm placing you in command of this section. We have a Carl Gustav (another version of a recoilless rifle) in the trees over there," the Captain pointed to the right. Hold this position as long as you can. Help is on the way."Before this fight, the soldier had dreaded this officer. He had been so pompous, so spit-and-polished and arrogant. Now he saw different qualities in the man. He was cool under fire, had his mind on the bigger picture of the fight and the discipline he had instilled in his men was paying dividends the private soldier hadn't appreciated at that time."You are Sip Tho (corporal) now," the officer told him. With that declaration, the common foot soldier had inherited 13 more men, the squad of seven to his right and the six Thahan Phran to his left. Combined with his two that made something more like a combat command. The Captain made his way back up the line. The Thai didn't have long to appreciate his promotion. Smoke shells began detonating between his position and the town, obscuring the place."Remember," he shouted. "Short, controlled bursts and only shoot at something that you know is out there!" With that, he had established his command of the situation. Several explosions detonated in the wooded position. Half a minute later, a tank appeared and pumped another H E into the position. In doing so, it exposed its side to Thai's section.The two men manning his Dragon launcher looked his way. It was a shot at a 45 degree angle and any heavy weapons fire would bring about all kinds of hate."Fire," he ordered. The man aiming the device took a few seconds then let loose. The rocket didn't penetrate the side, but it did knock a track out."Now we are going to get it," the Thai mumbled.A few heartbeats later, a larger TOW missile slammed into it from a position to his command's rear. This time the tank blew up. Of equal importance to the soldier's mind, there were men behind him and that could only mean, the second regiment had finally arrived. He was sure he wouldn't be falling back any further, giving the invaders one more inch of sacred Thai soil. It also meant his men would most likely live to see the end of the day. That mattered too.  It was H-hour plus six. Two hour earlier, elements of the Vietnamese People's Army's 314th Mechanized regiment and 206th Tank Regiment with the Mobile battalion of the Laotian 1st Division and the Khanate's Laos Force Command slammed into Khon Kaen. By that time, the small city had already seen its share of hell. Khanate forces had stormed the regional airport with an aerial assault at 4:10 AM that morning.There were no dedicated combat troops in Khon Kaen. It was the HQ for both the Royal Thai 3rd Division and its component 1st regiment. That had resulted in a see-saw battle until the relief force arrived from the north. After that, resistance had collapsed. Over three hundred men surrendered. A hundred miles to the north forces in the town of Udon Thani, battalions of the 1st and 2nd regiments of the 3rd Division were still in combat with Laotian and Vietnamese forces. The final outcome of that battle had yet to be decided.What did matter was that the entire command structure of northeast of Thailand had been neutered. There were five more battalions out there that had no idea what to do next. They suffered from sporadic air attacks, but nothing serious was coming their way.What none of them were aware of was that a Far North Force out of the Laotian highlands had broken a battalion of the Royal Thai's 6th Infantry Division, taken Roi Et and severed the communications between the two formations. At Roi Et, the Khanate armored spearhead had left elements of the 2nd Regiment of Lao's 4th Division to hold the airport and was blazing a trail westward along Highway 23, to the south/rear of those five battalions.South of Roi Et, two other Thai battalions were grudgingly giving ground to a regiment of Vietnam's 305th Division plus the 270th Combat Engineers and 16th Artillery Brigade. What mattered was that those forces were drawing off the efforts of the 6th Divisions to counteract the invasion.The 6th Division had its own litany of woes. It was the subject of a dozen pinpricks. The division's commander had lost contact with the other two divisions under the 2nd Army's command. He had enemy forces to his north around Amnat Charoen, he'd lost contact with this 1st regiment HQ at Roi Et.His second regiment, at Ubon Ratchathani, was heavily engaged with the Alliance's North Force. His 3rd regiment, spread out along the southern approaches to his life line, Highway 24, had discovered small teams of Special Forces at every bridge and crossing, making every attempt at creating a unified front costly and ultimately futile.The 2nd Army's HQ and supply hub were at Nakhon Ratchasima. They were under attack, the airport had fallen and the sole mechanized regiment (minus one battalion) was having a terrible time retaking it. They were presently incapable of coming to his defense, since their third battalion had already been called to the capital to put down unrest/enemy forces.He finally made his decision. The remnants of the 1st regiment were to retire westward over the back roads towards the division headquarters at the Si Sa Ket Railway Station. The second regiment was to hold in place until sunset. Using all of the division's remaining assets, he was going to secure Highway 24 so that his command could retire using that path before they were cut off and defeated one regiment at the time.  It was H-hour plus seven. For one of the drivers in a Khanate Heavy Mountain Supply Zuun, there wasn't much to love about this mission. He was a truck driver with a weapon, not a true foot soldier. He was content with his role in logistics, which was why his current mission scared the crap out of him. He wasn't in an armored vehicle and was accompanied by only one Fast Zuun ~ by its very nature a lightly armored unit. Now he was driving deep into enemy territory with a truckload of Karin freedom fighters, who also were lightly equipped.He had already reached the first goal, the town of San Buri, 270 kilometers behind enemy lines and only 60 kilometers from downtown Bangkok. There was a fear that his own air force would mistake then for an enemy supply column and shoot them up. Then there was the fear that some rear echelon troops would find the convoy suspicious and fill his unarmed vehicle with holes. His luck held, the enemy were looking to the north and east, not at a group of trucks heading south.Soldiers from the rebel faction of the Thai Royal Army were stationed in each vehicle to cover any conversation with the local constabulary that might come up. The cover story was that the unit was driving with a purpose ~ the capital was under attack and they were reinforcements using back roads to avoid airstrikes ~ the phone network was a mess and the fact that the plan was so audacious, the normal police officers didn't feel the need to slow the military trucks down.The last phase was pure madness. They rolled down Road 304 at 80 kph. Every time they approached a checkpoint, the unit's commander called in a hopefully faux airstrike, on both them and the Thai soldiers. That made it plausible for the convoy to race forward as the troops around them were too busy diving for cover to stop them. If anything, the defenders thought those truck drivers were the bravest men they'd ever seen.At the end of the journey, they rolled across the Road 304 Bridge over the Chao Praya River, then dispersed. Each truck disgorged 16 Karin fighters, for a total of 560. To that was added the 100 members of the Fast Zuun and 35 drivers, three Tigr's and 59 combat troops. Miracles of miracles, they found the capital to be in total chaos.  It was H-hour plus 6 and a half. The Turkish Khanate commander of 100 looked south in the direction of In Buri. He was already in the 'spread chaos' phase of his operation. The central part of In Buri was the junction of Highways 11 and 32. Somewhere to the far north, friendly units were fighting their way to him. Forces retreating south, or reinforcements from Bangkok would have to pass through his position. He commandeered some passing civilian vehicles and created barricades on all three sides of the T-cloverleaf.Before long, the ground elements of an Airmobile Zuun had joined him. That allowed him to deploy several two-man observer teams over the surrounding countryside. He left two AFV's on the bridge and camouflaged the others in the best ambush points he could think of. Then, he waited.  It was H-hour plus eight. For Julia Atwood, this was the culmination of twenty-five years working in Asia, covering a host of military conflicts and both natural and man-made humanitarian disasters. She'd gotten a tip two days earlier that Bangkok Thailand was going to be the place to be. Since she wasn't a known anti-government reporter, her entry into the country had been easy enough.She had spent the previous day picking a city guide, luckily finding one she knew well, and looking around for sources of information about 'trouble'. What she found was a quiet city on the edge of an explosion. The police, paramilitary forces and the military had everything battened down tight. At the same time, the population was extremely anxious over the upcoming loyalist offensive against the rebel northwest.The military had clamped down on all information coming out of the prospective war zones while exhorting on all forms of mass media the sacred traditions of Thai national identity and the need for law and order. That made the hairs on the back of Julia's neck tingle. It spoke of an upcoming shit storm. Still, Day One had been a bust. Few people wanted to talk about what was going on; all known opposition leaders were in prison or in exile.She had awakened early in the morning to the sound of heavy weapons fire. She had been in enough war zones to know the difference between grenades exploding, or pistol, assault rifle, machine gun, and tank fire. She was hearing tank fire, which made no sense. The Thai army didn't need to use their tank's big guns to fire at anything the opposition could bring to bear.She slipped out the back of her hotel to avoid any possible police minder, gathered up her guide and went hunting for the story. Twice she barely avoided roving army patrols. What immediately occurred to her was these soldiers didn't seem to know what was going on. They were jumpy (not good) and nervous (great for a story).Her trained ears and years of instinct led her to one of the eyes of the storm. Julia's jaw nearly dropped open. There were Central Asian men riding around in Russian equipment surrounded by throngs of hundreds, possibly thousands, of Thai 'Red Shirt' protestors marching on a police barricade. Several leaders of the movement had bullhorns and were communicating with the police. It was a tense situation.Julia forced her way to the BMP-3M, then shouted up at the commander standing in the copula. She tried Uzbek. The man looked her way."No. I'm Kazak. My Uzbek isn't very good," he replied. Julia's Kazak wasn't the best in the world, but she endeavored to make it work."What are you doing here?""I could ask you the same thing," the man smiled. "We are part of the Alliance effort to bring about democratic change in this country." Julia knew he was spouting the party line."What are you really doing here?" she pressed."I have no idea," he chortled. "I don't speak this language, don't know who these people are and only found out where Thailand was two days ago.""Are there a lot of you here?""Not really.""How did you get here?""We landed at the airport. We are a portion of an airmobile Zuun."Just then one of the protestors tried to get the unit leader's attention. He kept repeating something."He wants you to advance on the police line and look menacing," she translated."Okay," the Khanate officer shrugged. "That I can do."He spoke rapid fire Kazak, which Julia couldn't quite follow. Her ride lurched forward, the crowd parted and she could see the blood drain out of the police commander's face. Without looking her way, the Kazak spoke to Julia."Tell them they have thirty seconds to put down their arms or I'm going to shred the lot of them."Julia thought about it for a second. She was recording this exchange on her camcorder. She knew this was straying dangerously close to becoming a participant, not a reporter. She translated to the Thai young man. He sprinted toward the police and relayed the message. She had no idea what a 100mm fragmentation shell would do, had an idea how bloody a 30mm auto-cannon could get and had great familiarity with the effectiveness of 12.7 & 7.62mm machine guns.The lead protestor had a rapid discussion with the lead policeman, bowing and begging for this situation to be resolved peacefully. The countdown reached eight when the officer indicated his acquiescence. The mob didn't surge forward victoriously. Julia slapped the turret to get the Kazak's attention."You don't need to fire.""I understand that," the man acknowledged. It wasn't over though. Another protestor, a woman, waved for the Kazak's attention. Since she wasn't alone in doing so, the man hadn't noticed her. What she was saying did get Julia's attention."She is saying that tanks are on the way!" she shouted at the man in the copula."Which direction?" he inquired. Julia confirmed the information relayed by the girl, who double checked with the person on the other end of her phone, worked out the terrain in her head, then drew a quick map on her palm."They are coming up the road one block up. They are heading north toward us.""Clear out the crowd," he responded evenly. He once more ordered his unit to action. One of the Tigr's raced forward and disgorged its men close to the next corner then the vehicle withdrew."What do you plan to do?" she asked."Do what I came here to do, kill the enemy.""But they have tanks.""Fortunately I have things that kill tanks," he grinned."Do you mind if I stick around?""It is your life," he shrugged. The BMP moved forward to the point where, with its barrel turned sideways, the vehicle was just short of exposing itself. He was busy talking to someone else.Seconds later, one of the Khanate soldiers at the corner launched a grenade up the street, then two others opened fire with their assault rifles. They ducked back around the corner right as a larger caliber machine gun chewed up the wall as well as the street in front of her. Two other soldiers fired off flares into the sky."You might want to get down," the Kazak advised her. Julia nodded, jumped off and ran to the corner to join the other troopers. She edged around the corner, leading with her camcorder. Sure enough, up the street was an honest-to-God tank, with others behind it. One of the foot-bound Kazaks was busy shouting at the others. Once more, a soldier fired a grenade at the tank, to no visible effect. This time he apparently got the response the Kazaks wanted.The tank's big gun fired. One of the troopers, mindful of Julia, grabbed her as they propelled themselves to the ground. The world exploded. Julia was doing a quick check of her well-being when she heard the BMP race forward, barrel turned perpendicular down the street and then it fired. Julia barely caught it all on her camera. The IFV had fired an anti-tank missile out of its main gun. The oncoming tank was a Ukrainian made T-84 Oplot.It exploded; the turret flying away in a curtain of flame. This time it was the blast that blew Julia to the ground. A Kazak soldier hefted her up and pulled her to safety. He was truly pissed when she dodged back into the danger zone to retrieve her camcorder. She sighed happily when she found it undamaged. The BMP rolled back behind cover."Get down," the Kazak ground pounder growled. "It is about to get a whole lot worse.""How?" she looked at him."Well, now that we have stopped the column from moving," he grinned like a maniac. That wasn't much of an answer. Then she noted all the Kazaks clutching at the concrete sidewalks. She did likewise. Seconds later, she heard the jets. 'Oh God', she gulped. She'd seen more than her fair share of airstrikes. She had never been this close to one.Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the Thai crowd moving closer."Get down," she screamed in Thai. "Get Down!"Others repeated her warning and the crowed went down to their knees. Then came the thunder. Julia could barely make out the whoosh of missiles before the detonating rockets and missiles shook her world.A stubby-winged jet raced past her vision. The pilot had gotten so damn close to the building tops she could make out every feature of his aircraft. This level of caution where civilians were concerned was surprisingly unlike the Khanate. She tried to stand, but the soldier next to her had wrapped an arm around her."They come in twos," he cautioned her.Sure enough another series of explosions rocked her surroundings. No sooner had she gotten to her feet, the Kazak commander shouted,"They are coming around for another pass, then we go!"A series of passes followed with the jets using auto-cannons on whomever was left out there.Julia pushed away from her guardian and rushed up to the BMP officer."Wait," she called to him. Stunningly, he waited, looking at her. "Let the crowd save the survivors. This is their struggle too.""If the soldiers fire on them there will be little I can do," he responded."Give them a chance."Against all her expectations, he did. The crowd moved to discover the carnage visited on their oppressors, and fellow countrymen.  It was H-hour plus eight. The Thai tank commander was close to the end of his rope. He'd been fighting since sunrise. Defend, attack, withdraw to a defensive position then wait for the order to counterattack. His platoon had dwindled down to his sole surviving tank. His company no longer acted as a separate entity. Now his battalion, barely a company in strength, operated as a fire brigade, shoring up his beleaguered battle group.The last attack, backed by air power, had shattered his unit. He fell back, literally backing into a second story building to avoid the ever-present Alliance attack helicopters. From his vantage point he could see a column of armored vehicles rolling down Highway 11. He was debating which one he would fire on first when he noticed a jeep coming his way. Onboard were three Thai soldiers, rebels.The jeep rolled right up to his hiding spot. The man in the back dismounted and he walked right up to the tank."Can we talk?" the man inquired. The tank commander kept him covered with this machine gun."What do you have to say, traitor?" he barked."I come to request,""We will not surrender," he growled."We are not asking you to surrender," the man corrected him. "We are asking you to let the war pass you by.""Why should I?""If you fight, you will be destroyed. The Thai army will need to rebuild when this is over and we must be strong. If you throw your life away, we will all be weaker."The tank commander had to think that over. If he began firing on that armored column he would be striking a mighty blow for his country. He would also be sentencing him and his men to death."There will be no surrender?""No sir," the man insisted.The rebel soldier made some sense. The Thai military would have to rebuild when this catastrophe was over. He and his men had done their part."We will stay here for a while," the tank commander informed the rebel."Very well," the soldier bowed. He remounted his jeep and drove away."We are going to stay here a while," he addressed his crewmen. "Get a bite to eat and a drink of water."His men hesitated for a moment."Now, while we have the chance."The men hopped to. They had their orders. They would worry about the morality of their actions later.  It was H-hour plus nine. The men in the Royal Thai Army's high command were finally getting ahold of the big picture. The good news was the Third Army's offensive was grinding to a halt along a line stretching along Highway 1 from Tham Pet Tham Tong Forest in the east to Chai Nat on the Chao Praya River in the west. It was accepted as fact that the 3rd Cavalry and 11th Infantry divisions could hold the line.West of the Chao Praya was a chaotic mess of small garrisons involved in raids and counter-raids. It was deemed unlikely the Alliance forces could push forward any further in that direction either. It also meant that they couldn't pull units from that region to reinforce any of their other trouble points and they had a few.That was most of the good news.Another piece of good news was the1st Army's 2nd Infantry Division had stopped the invasion force they were facing only a few kilometers over the frontier in the area of Watthana Nakhon District. As soon as they had gathered the majority of the division together, they would be mounting a counter-offensive with the intention of overwhelming that force and destroying it.After that, it only got worse.In the area of the 2nd Army, the 3rd Infantry Division and the 2nd Cavalry Division had virtually ceased to exist as cohesive forces. Two battalions of the 3rd Division were retreating south into the 6th Division's area. The 2nd Cavalry division had been reduced pre-battle to one mechanized regiment. That regiment was gone and with it, the supply routes for the 2nd Royal Thai Army.Inside that zone, the 6th Infantry Division still existed, but it was in a world of trouble. They had lost control of Highway 24, their primary supply/evacuation route, and were relentlessly being driven out of Ubon Ratchathani. Even with the slowly arriving battalions of the 3rd Division, the 6th could barely muster two combat-effective regiments and those were running short of fuel and ammunition. The 6th had become a static force, too large to be overwhelmed, too immobile to press the enemy out, or save themselves from a slow strangulation. Had they their assigned tank battalion, but they didn't.The 1st Army's 9th Division was in the worst shape. They had gathered into one elliptical shaped perimeter centered on Chanthaburi and were down to four battalions and two tanks. Technically, they had another battalion, except the 1st Army command had ordered that into Bangkok to aid in suppressing the rebel movement. The 9th Division was surrounded, under attack from the land, sea (the Indian Navy had joined the fight) and air. Their commanding general expected to be wiped out before sunset.And Bangkok?It was turning into a typhoon scale disaster. They had finally determined that there were eight small Khanate platoons roaming the city, seemingly at will. The 1st Division had finally located and destroyed one of those, along with a dozen protestors who chose to fight by their side. The others were still at large and causing trouble.That wasn't the worst of it though. The plan had been to pacify outlying neighborhoods and work their way in to the worst areas. That had started out effectively, then suddenly they had lost the northwestern and southeastern sectors. In the northwest, there were Karin fighters killing, or capturing police and paramilitary strongpoints.In the southeast, it was much worse. Unknown armored troops from the 9th Division's rear area had come seeping in along the riverfront. They seemed to be everywhere at once, surprising roadblocks and checkpoints then ambushing the forces sent to restore order. They were a cancer pushing into a city already short on reserves.There were public displays of defiance going out over the international news, surgical air strikes and a growing sense among the rank and file 'Guardians of the Public Order' that they were on the losing side. There were reports of police turning their backs on the unrest, directing traffic and arresting petty criminals instead.The Royal Thai Army in Bangkok still had over 50,000 men under its command. They were sure they were facing less than a thousand hardcore militants, yet they were losing control of the streets. Part of that was caused by the military being tied down to certain strategic areas they had to hold. They had to protect over a dozen buildings and, as they had painfully learned, a platoon wouldn't do.The Government House had been temporarily overrun and Parliament had been shelled. Channel 3 had been hijacked and the forces sent to take it back had been subject to intense helicopter attacks and driven back. They'd killed two such craft, but that only seemed to make the Alliance troops angrier. This was what a death by a thousand cuts felt like. This was worse than bad, because it looked bad on media going out all over the world.  It was H-hour plus twelve. The commander of the MARCOS had finally taken the time to eat. He was in the Maleenont Towers section of Khlong Toei, Bangkok. It had been his masterstroke, seizing the Channel 3 station. He wasn't sure who the eight shady characters who showed up with the VIPs were and he didn't really care. What did matter was while the VIP's fought like wildcats in private they were putting on a unified front while on TV.One of the VIPs was the former civilian Prime Minister of Thailand. The other guys seemed to hate her guts, but were willing to work with her to overthrow the generals. What he did care about was the nearly five hundred men under his command plus a dozen helicopters and jets somewhere above, waiting to swoop in and help when the next government attack materialized.He had to give them this much, the police forces had guts, not a lot of brains, but plenty of guts. Their counter-terrorism unit had known their stuff, but they didn't have any effective anti-tank weapons and he had a half dozen tanks. Whenever the army got feisty, he called up 'Shiva's Fist' ~ his men's joking reference to the Khanate air support. Those bastards not only killed you, they came back around and killed your corpse too.He got a call from the perimeter. Some of those Karin fighters had crossed half the city to join them. The Indian officer had thought that part of the Khanate plan was utter madness, yet here they were, shooting up the place in a manner only highly experienced insurgents could. Those guys didn't even want to hang around. They were asking for more ammo. The locals were giving them all the food and water they needed.At nine, once it was truly dark, the Khanate was promising to drop off a few tons of whatever they need plus some more medivac units. He was down nine men dead and twenty-seven wounded badly enough they need to be removed. The Khanate had lost four times as many. All in all, the overthrow of a military regime was turning out to not be as difficult as he thought it would be. He was waiting to be surprised.  It was H-hour plus fifteen. The fighting had died down and now the main activity was the Thai civic authorities fighting the fires burning in Saraburi. The Khanate Commander of 1000 looked over his shoulder at the burning city. It hadn't been much of a fight, mainly a few rear echelon forces from the Royal Thai 2nd Army and some paramilitaries.He wasn't in the town. The majority of his troopers had already rolled down to the junction of Highways 1 and 33. He had communication with other elements farther west on Highway 32 at Ang Thong and to the northwest at the junction of Highways 1 and 32. The offensive operations was essentially over for his command. That was just as well. He was running low on petrol. He still had plenty of ammunition though.They were sitting on the lifeline for the 1st Army's 3rd Cavalry and 11th Division to the north and the 2nd Division to the east. The 6th Division was too far in his rear to matter and the 9th Division was facing annihilation along the coast. It was very dark now, but the air force was still active. Some pilots were flying their sixteenth mission of the day.For most of the day, the Khanate Air Force had concentrated on his axis of advance and the battle in Bangkok. The Vietnamese Air Force had concentrated on the hapless 9th Division. In reality, the Alliance was almost at the end of its tether.His combined Laos and Far North Task Forces were spent. The North and Cambodian Task Forces had the 6th Division pinned down. The South Task Force had done the same with the 9th. Only the Central Task Force facing the 2nd Division appeared to be in serious trouble.None of those formations were actually near defeat, though many of them wouldn't realize that until morning. Only the 3rd Army's two task force had consisted of more than 5,000 hastily gathered troops and most of those were Cambodians, Laotians and Vietnamese. To that the Khanate had added 50 mobile Zuuns spread over ten task forces and another 50 airmobile, parachute and airlifted units ~ less than ten thousand men and women spread over all fronts.The cold, hard reality for him was that not a single loyalist Thai unit had been destroyed. The 3rd and 9th infantry divisions has been battered, that was true. The majority of their mobile forces, the 2nd and 3rd cavalry divisions, still existed as a potent force. The 11th and 2nd infantry divisions were also out there, but they were all cut off from the capital. And in this elegant global play, the one theater that mattered was Bangkok.In the morning, if they came for him, the loyalist Thai's were going to discover that offense was a lot more painful that defense. Only the 2nd Division bothered him. The forces to the north were too heavily engaged with the rebel Thai 3rd Army to dispatch more than a battalion his way and he would gobble up a battalion.It would be too much to ask the battered Alliance Center Task Force to keep the 2nd Division occupied. From what he had heard, they were on the verge of disintegration after a powerful Loyalist counterattack. He did have patrols on the 304 and 359 Roads in case their commander got creative. What those few men lacked in vehicles, they would compensate for with air power.The Khanate Air Force was a 24/7, all-weather operation. They had lost 40 aircraft to enemy action and a further forty to mechanical malfunction. Losses in helicopters was also high. But there were still enough of both to get the job done. Now all he had to do was wait for the Americans to arrive.  It was H-hour plus seventeen.There were only three major acts left in this macabre play before the eyes of the world. A squadron of 12 Tu-22M bombers found two of the 2nd Division's regiments sneaking to the west. The Thais had done this with as much secrecy as they could. Unfortunately, their move was one of only two option left to the Loyalist Royal Thai Army.Option One, the most likely one, had the 2nd Division attacking the Khanate troops south of Saraburi. It would not only give the 2nd Division freedom of movement, it would establish supply lines to the divisions currently holding the rebel Thai Third Army at bay. It was the predictable choice.The Khanate U A V were out there, scouting for them and when they spotted the three columns using the backroads to approach their attack positions, they relayed that information to a not-so-distant A-50E/I. The squadron of waiting bombers had incredible endurance and had been circling the suspected target area for three hours. They broke up into groups of six then into groups of two. The first two lined up on their targets then unleashed their lethal cargo.Each plane dropped sixty-nine 250 kg bombs. That was138 bombs with a combined explosive power of 75,900 lbs. spread out over three-quarters of a mile. The A-50 assessed the damage for 7 minutes before sending the second set of two in. Another 138 bombs. Another 75,900 lbs. of death. The third group wouldn't be needed. In ten minutes the fighting power of the 2nd Royal Thai Infantry Division had evaporated.Option Two? That called for the 1st Infantry Division, with her added units, to sally forth from Bangkok and rescue the trapped elements of their other divisions. That would have entailed abandoning large areas of the capital to the protestors and the tiny groups of invaders that were helping them. No one thought they would do that and they were right. Had they been wrong, there was another squadron of bombers waiting for them.  It was H-hour plus nineteen. The Thai Phon Thahan-turned-Sip Tho looked out into the darkness. Four hours ago he was anticipating crossing the Cambodian border and burning down their town for a change. Now, now it was wait-and-see. The majority of the division had withdrawn for a long night march to the west. From what he had gathered, the 2nd Army had been pummeled and it was once again the time for the 2nd Division to save the day.He spotted movement in front of him. He glanced over to his 'sniper', a Thahan Phran who was the best shot in his unit and had a taste for the task. The man had the target in his sights."I come to parlay," the voice in the darkness shouted in less than perfect Thai. The Thai soldier had to think what that meant. His instinct was to shoot the man. His training taught him to not make choices above his pay grade."Advance. Don't do anything stupid," he called out. To the man next to him he whispered, "Go get the Captain." The man slunk away. No one alive in the unit stood up to do anything. You even pissed crouched down. The man coming toward him was a Cambodian. It was evident in both his gear and accent. "What do you want?""We want a truce," the man replied. He remained very erect, his hands in the air and only made slow, careful movements."I should shoot you," he growled."That would be unfortunate for both of us. I would, of course, be dead, and my allies would open up with our artillery."The conversation was truncated by the captain's arrival. They went through much of the same routine, absent the 'I should kill you part' and the counter-threat. The captain turned to the Thai soldier."Blindfold and bind this man's hands then take him to the Phan Ek (Colonel). Let him figure this out."Without the soldier saying anything the Captain added, "This could be a ruse. I must stay here. Hurry."He nodded, took a shirt from one of the civilian volunteers, cut it into strips then blindfolded and bound the man."If you so much as sneeze, I'll put a bullet in your head," he warned the man."I understand," the Cambodian replied. The soldier took the Cambodian one block behind the lines, spun the man around several times, then led him toward the command bunker. He spun him around twice more before making his final approach. A wounded junior officer met him at the entrance."Come on," he took custody of the man. Having nothing else to do and not having been ordered to release the prisoner, the soldier followed along.The Regimental Commander had the man un-blindfolded. His hands remained bound."What do your masters want?" the Major snapped."They want a truce," the Cambodian blinked in the sudden bright light."You invaded us without a declaration of war. That makes you criminals, not combatants.""We attacked at the request of the legitimate authority in Thailand, the Commanding General of the Royal Thai Third Army.""Those men are rebels and you will not refer to them as anything but," the Phan Ek insisted."Very well. My Commander wishes to let you know that our mobile hospital has arrived. We wish to exchange prisoners and place our facilities at your disposal as well.""The Royal Thai army will be there soon enough," the Major glowered."Unlikely. Our Khanate allies have informed us that most of your division was destroyed on the road. You have one battered regiment and a handful of tanks. You are not going anywhere."The soldier wanted to slap the smug smile off the man's face."I do not have the authority to hand over prisoners until their status as POWs or criminals has been established," the senior officer countered."If you consider our men criminals, we will treat your men like traitors.""Are you threatening me?""Yes. A fact you should be aware of is that the Khanate has been flying in reinforcements since noon and we have five more armored, mechanized and artillery Zuuns to attack with. Come sunrise, we will be coming at you again unless we have a truce.""Now you are threatening us again," the Phan Ek pointed out."I am explaining the realities of your situation, nothing more," the Cambodian countered. "Our task force commander believes that further violence will be futile. You have done your job and we have done ours.""And your job was to keep us occupied so you could rape and pillage other parts of our country?""No sir. The Alliance forces have been operating under very strict guidelines. The Thai people are our allies and we are a liberating force," the Cambodian replied."You consider this town 'liberated'? You've destroyed it," the Phan Ek noted."It was unfortunate that you chose to fight us here."The Colonel studied the man silently for thirty seconds."I will agree to a two hour truce. That should allow me to contact my superiors for further clarification on my mission. We will hand over any critically injured 'invaders'. You will return any POW's you are holding in exchange.""Agreed," the Cambodian immediately responded."Just like that? It is really within your authority to make such a deal?""As I said earlier Phan Ek, we believe the fighting is over. We don't need your captured men. We would like to see as many as our comrades live as possible. No matter what your commanders say, the fact remains that if you come out of these ruins, you will be slaughtered. You know that. I know that. Peace is the only avenue that leads to any level of success. Today, today, both our forces did what our commanders told us to do. The dying should stop.""Go. The truce will take effect in, fifteen minutes ~ 12:12 am. We will transfer prisoners and wounded at your point of entry. We will both give a warning whistle fifteen, ten, five and one minute before the truce ends at 2:12 am. Do you understand?"The Cambodian repeated the terms of the truce. He was bound up then sent back with the Sip Tho."Do you really think this is the end of the fighting," he asked his blind captive."On the lives of my children I hope so," the man sighed. "I led 88 men into battle this morning and now I'm down to 46 effectives. I have lost too many already for a battle that wasn't in my nation's best interest. I am tired of the killing.""Me too," the Thai said a moment later. After he delivered him to the Captain on the front lines, the man was unbound."Good luck," he found himself saying."Good luck for both of us," the Cambodian gave a weary smile. "May we not meet again.""If I see you again, I will kill you.""I feel the same way," the man chuckled. "We are both soldiers doing what more powerful men have commanded us to do. I don't know about you, but I have had enough." Several Thai soldiers nodded. They had driven the enemy off Thai soil. Continuing the fight didn't seem to have much of a point.  

VLOG March 10 On Eric Adams DOJ files SDNY messages under seal as Inner City Press unsealing bid, docketed by unacted on https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/25537823-for-eric-adams-straw-donations-doj-filed-nolle-prosequi-now-inner-city-press-files-for-unsealing-here/Iran using Uzbek mob trial jury selection https://www.innercitypress.com/sdny54hmcmahonmehdiyevicp030625.htmlUN Colombia's CCP plant can only say arepas https://www.innercitypress.com/ungate16colombiaicp031025.html

This episode we continue to follow the monk Xuanzang on his path along the silk road.  From Gaochang, he traveled through the Tarim Basin, up over the Tianshan Mountains, to the heart of the Western Gokturk Qaghanate.  From there, he traveled south, through the region of Transoxania to Bactria and the land of Tukhara.  He pushed on into the Hindu Kush, witnessing the stone Buddha statues of Bamiyan, and eventually made his way to the land of Kapisa, near modern Kabul, Afghanistan.  From there he would prepare to enter the Indian subcontinent: the home of the historical Buddha. For more discussion and some photos of the areas along this journey, check out our podcast blog at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-121   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 121: Journey to the West, Part 2   The cold winds blew through the travelers' doubled up clothing and thick furs.  Cold, wet ground meant that even two sets of boots were not necessarily enough after several days.  The frozen mist would often obscure everything except for the path immediately in front, hiding the peaks and making the sky a uniform white. In many places, the path would be blocked by rock, ice, or snow—the remnants of an avalanche, which could easily take an unsuspecting traveler.  And there was the elevation.  Hiking through the mountains, it was easy enough to reach heights of a mile or higher, and for those not accustomed to that elevation the thin air could take a surprising toll, especially if you were pushing yourself.  And the road was no less kind to the animals that would be hauling said travelers and their gear. And yet, this was the path that Xuanzang had agreed to.  He would continue to push through, despite the various deprivations that he would be subjected to.  No doubt he often wondered if it was worth it.  Then again, returning was just as dangerous a trip, so why not push on?   Last episode we introduced the monk Xuanzang, who traveled the Silk Road to India in the 7th century and returned to China.  He brought back numerous sutras to translate, and ended up founding a new school, known as the Faxian school—or the Hossou school in Japan.   As we mentioned last time, Xuanzang during his lifetime met with students from the archipelago when they visited the continent.  The records of his travels—including his biography and travelogue—are some of the best information we have on what life was like on the silk road around this time. In the last episode, we talked about Xuanzang: how he set out on his travels, his illegal departure from the Tang empire, and his perilous journey across the desert, ending up in Gaochang.  There, King Qu Wentai had tried to get him to stay, but he was determined to head out.  This episode we are going to cover his trip to Agni, Kucha, and Baluka—modern Aksu—and up to the Western Gokturk Qaghanate's capital of Suyab.  From there, we'll follow his footsteps through the Turkic controlled regions of Transoxania and into Tukhara, in modern Afghanistan.  Finally, we'll cover the last parts of his journey before he reached the start of his goal:  India. From Gaochang, Xuanzang continued on, through the towns he names as Wuban and Dujin, and into the country of Agni—known today as the area of Yanqi—which may also have been known as Wuqi.  The route was well-enough known, but it wasn't necessarily safe.  At one point, Xuanzang's caravan met with bandits, whom they were fortunately able to pay off.  The following night they encamped on a river bank with some merchants who also happened to be traveling the road.  The merchants, though, got up at midnight and headed out, hoping to get to the city early so that they could be the first ones to the market.  They only made it a few miles down the road, however, before they encountered more bandits, who slaughtered them and took their goods.  The following day, Xuanzang and his retinue came upon the merchants' remains lying in the road and saw the aftermath of the massacre. This was an unforgiving land, and the road was truly dangerous, even for those who traveled it regularly.  And yet Xuanzang was planning to travel its entire length until he reached India. So with little alternative, they carried on to the royal city of Agni. Agni, or Yanqi, sits on the southwestern edge of the basin, west of Bositeng lake, on the border between the Turfan basin and the larger Tarim Basin.  The name is thought to be a Tocharian—or Turfanian—name for the city, which is also known as Karashr. According to the biography by Huili, Xuanzang and his party didn't stay long in Agni.  Apparently Agni and Gaochang were not exactly on friendly terms, and even though the King of Agni and his ministers reportedly came out to greet Xuanzang and welcome him to their city, they refused to provide any horses.  They spent a single night and moved on. That said, Agni still made an impression on Xuanzang.  He noted how the capital was surrounded by hills on four sides, making it naturally defensible.  As for the people, he praises them as honest and straightforward.  They wore clothing of felt and hemp cloth, and cut their hair short, without hats or any kind of headwear.  Even the climate was pleasant, at least for the short time he was there.  He also notes that they used a script based on India—likely referring to the Brahmic script, which we find in the Tarim basin. However, as for the local lord, the King of Agni, he is a little less charitable.  Xuanzang claimed he was brave but “lacked resourcefulness” and he was a bit of a braggart.  Furthermore, the country had “no guiding principles or discipline and government orders are imperfect and not seriously implemented.”  He also mentioned the state of Buddhism in the country, noting that they were followers of Sarvastivada school, a Theravada sect popular along the Silk Road at the time.  Xuanzang was apparently not too pleased with the fact that they were not strict vegetarians, including the “three kinds of pure meat”.  From Agni, Xuanzang continued southwest, heading for the kingdom of Kucha.  He seems to have bypassed the nearby kingdom of Korla, south of Agni, and headed some 60 or 70 miles, climbing over a ridge and crossing two large rivers, and then proceeding another 200 miles or so to the land of Kucha. Kucha was a kingdom with over one hundred monasteries and five thousand monks following a form of Theravada Buddhism.  Here, Xuanzang was welcomed in by the king, Suvarnadeva, described as having red hair and blue eyes.  While Xuanzang was staying in Kucha, it is suspected that he probably visited the nearby Kizil grotto and the Buddhist caves, there, which include a painting of King Suvarnadeva's father, King Suvarnapuspa, and his three sons. You can still visit Kucha and the Kizil grottos today, although getting there is quite a trek, to be sure.  The ancient Kuchean capital is mostly ruins, but in the Kizil caves, protected from the outside elements, you can find vivid paintings ranging from roughly the 4th to the 8th century, when the site was abandoned.  Hundreds of caves were painted, and many still demonstrate vibrant colors.  The arid conditions protect them from mold and mildew, while the cave itself reduces the natural bleaching effect of sunlight.  The paintings are in numerous styles, and were commissioned by various individuals and groups over the years.  They also give us some inkling of how vibrant the city and similar structures must have been, back when the Kuchean kingdom was in its heyday. The people of Kucha are still something of a mystery.  We know that at least some of them spoke an Indo-European language, related to a language found in Agni, and both of these languages are often called Tocharian, which we discussed last episode.  Xuanzang himself noted that they used Indian writing, possibly referring to the Brahmi script, or perhaps the fact that they seem to have used Sanskrit for official purposes, such as the inscription on the cave painting at Kizil giving the name of King Suvarnapuspa.  The Kucheans also were clothed in ornamental garments of silk and embroidery.  They kept their hair cut, wearing a flowing covering over their heads—and we see some of that in the paintings. Xuanzang also notes that though we may think of this area as a desert, it was a place where rice and grains, as well as fruit like grapes, pomegranates, plums, pears, peaches, and almonds were grown.  Even today, modern Xinjiang grows some absolutely fantastic fruit, including grapes, which are often dried into raisins. Another point of interest for Xuanzang may have been that Kucha is known as the hometown of none other than Kumarajiva.  We first mentioned Kumarajiva back in episode 84.  Kumarajiva was one of the first people we know of who translated many of the sutras from India that were then more widely disseminated throughout the Yellow River and Yangzi river basins.  His father was from India and his mother was a Kuchean princess.  In the middle of the 4th century, when he was still quite young, he traveled to India and back with his mother on a Buddhist pilgrimage.  Later he would start a massive translation project in Chang'an.  His translations are credited with revolutionizing Chinese Buddhism. Xuanzang was initially welcomed by the king, his ministers, and the revered monk, Moksagupta.  They were accompanied by several thousand monks who set up tents outside the eastern gate, with portable Buddha images, which they worshipped, and then Xuanzang was taken to monastery after monastery until sunset.  At one of the monasteries, in the southeast of the city, there were several tens of monks who originally came from Gaochang, and since Xuanzang had come from there, they invited him to stay with them. The next day he met and feasted with the King, politely declining any meat, and then went to the monastery in the northwest to meet with the famous monk: Moksagupta.  Moksagupta himself had made the journey to India, and had spent 20 years there himself.  It seems like this would have been the perfect person for Xuanzang to talk to about his plans, but instead, the two butted heads.  Moksagupta seems to have seen Xuanzang's Mahayana faith as heretical.  He saw no reason for Xuanzang to travel all the way to India when he had all the sutras that anyone needed there in Kucha, along with Moksagupta himself.   Xuanzang's response seems to have been the Tang dynasty Buddhist version of “Okay, Boomer”, and then he went ahead and tore apart Moksagupta's understanding of his own sutras—or so Xuanzang relayed to his biographers.  We don't exactly have Moksagupta's side, and, let's face it, Xuanzang and his biographers are not necessarily reliable narrators.  After all, they followed Mahayana teachings, which they considered the “Greater Vehicle”, and they referred to the Theravada teachings as the “Hinayana” or “Lesser Vehicle”.  Meanwhile, Theravada Buddhists likely saw many of the Mahayana texts as extraneous, even heretical, not believing them to actually be the teachings of the Buddha. It must have been winter time, as the passes through the mountains on the road ahead were still closed, and so Xuanzang stayed in Kucha, spending his time sightseeing and meeting with various people.  He even went back to see Moksagupta, but the older monk shunned him, and would get up and exit the room rather than engaging with him, so they had no more conversations. Eventually, Xuanzang continued on his way west, following along the northern rim of the Tarim basin.  Two days out from Kucha, disaster struck.  Some two thousand or so Turkish bandits suddenly appeared—I doubt Xuanzang was counting, so it may have been more or less.  I imagine that memories of what had happened to the merchants near Agni must have gone through Xuanzang's mind.   Fortunately, for him, they were fighting over loot that they had pillaged from various travelers, and since they couldn't share it equally, they fell to fighting each other and eventually dispersed. He travelled for almost 200 miles after that, stopping only for a night at the Kingdom of Baluka, aka Gumo—the modern city of Aksu.  This was another Theravada Buddhist kingdom.  Xuanzang noted tens of Buddhist temples, and over 1000 Buddhist monks.  The country was not large—about 200 miles east to west and 100 miles north to south.  For reference that means it was probably comparable in size with Kyushu, in terms of overall area, or maybe the size of Denmark—excluding Greenland—or maybe the US state of Maryland.  Xuanzang described the country as similar to Kucha in just about every way, including the written language and law, but the spoken language was different, though we don't get many more details. From Baluka, he crossed northward through the Tianshan mountains, which are classified as an extension of the Pamirs known as the Ice Mountains.  Had he continued southwest, he would have hit Kashgar and crossed over between the Pamir and Tian Shan ranges into the Ferghana valley, but instead he turned north. We don't know exactly why he took this perilous option, but the route that may have been popular at the time as it was one of the most direct routes to the seat of the Western Gokturk Empire, which he was currently traveling through. The Tian Shan mountains were a dangerous journey.  Avalanches could block the road—or worse.  Xuanzang describes the permanent ice fields—indeed, it is the ice fields and glaciers of the Tian Shan that melt in the summer and provide the oasis towns of the Tarim Basin with water, even to this day.  In Xuanzang's day, those glaciers were likely even more prevalent than today, especially as they have been recorded as rapidly disappearing since 1961.  And where you weren't on snow and ice, the ground was probably wet and damp from the melt.  To keep warm, you would wear shoes over your shoes, along with heavy fur coats, all designed to reduce exposure. Xuanzang claims that 3 or 4 of every 10 people didn't survive the crossing—and that horses and oxen fared even worse.  Even if these numbers are an exaggeration, the message is clear:  This was a dangerous journey. After about seven days, Xuanzang came out of the mountains to the “Great Pure Lake”, the “Da Qing Hai”, also known as the Hot Sea or the Salt Sea, which likely refers to Issyk Kul.  The salt content, along with the great volume of water it possesses, means that the lake rarely freezes over, which is likely why it is seen as “hot” since it doesn't freeze when the fresh water nearby does.  This lake is the second largest mountain lake in the world, and the second deepest saltwater lake.  Traveling past the lake, he continued to Suyab, near modern Tokmok, in Kyrgyzstan, just west of the modern capital of Bishkek.  This was an old Sogdian settlement, and had since become the capital of the Western Gokturks.  Sogdians—like Xuanzang's guide, Vandak—were integral to the Gokturk kingdom. Their language was the lingua franca of the Silk Road, and at the time of the Gokturk Khaganate, it was also the official court language, and so when Xuanzang appeared at the court of the Great Khagan of the Western Gokturks, it was likely the language of diplomacy. When we think of Turkic people, many in the English speaking world think of Turkiye, and perhaps of the mighty Ottoman empire.  Some may think of Turkmenistan, Kazhakstan, Kyrgyzstan, or Uzbekistan, among others.  And of course, there are the Uyghur people in Xinjiang.  All of these people claim roots in the ancestral Turkic homeland in the Altai mountains, which sit largely in western Mongolia, north of China's Xinjiang region.  Much like the Xiongnu and the Mongols, they were pastoral nomads, moving their herds across the steppes, often covering great distances.  They would regularly move through different regions, perhaps returning each season, though sometimes not returning for years at a time.  They were often seen as barbarians by settled people living in cities, and yet their goods and horses were highly prized. Nomad and sedentary lifestyles would often collide.  Farmers would turn pastureland into fields, and when the nomadic people returned on their circuits, they would find walls and fences where there was once open land, and the people there would claim to “own” the land, a concept often foreign to people who were always on the move.  Nomadic people, such as the Gokturks, were not necessarily keeping vast libraries of records about themselves and their histories, and so much of what we get comes from external sources, which do not always have incredibly reliable narrators.  To many of the settled agriculturalists, groups like the Turks were marauders who raided their villages and farms.  They were a great bogeyman of the steppes, which required the firm hand of strong defenses to keep out—or so their opponents would want people to think. While they were known for their warfare, which incorporated their mobility, but they were keenly interested in trade, as well.  They understood the value of the trade routes and the various cities and states that they included in their empire.  Thus, the Sogdians and the Gokturks seem a natural fit: the Sogdians were more settled, but not entirely so, as demonstrated by their vast trade networks.  And the Sogdians also were part of the greater central Eurasian steppe culture, so the two cultures understood each other, to a degree.  They are even depicted similarly in art, with slight differences, such as long hair that was often associated with Turks over the Sogdians.  In some areas of the Gokturk empire, Sogdians would run the cities, while the Gokturks provided military aid and protection. Xuanzang's description of the people of Suyab, or the “City of Suye River”, doesn't pick out anyone in particular, and he even says that it was a place where traders of the Hu, or foreign, tribes from different countries mingle their abodes.  He mentions the people here as being called Suli, which is also the name given to the language—this may refer to “Sogdian” in general.  They write with an alphabet that is written vertically rather than horizontally—this may refer to a few scripts that were written this way, possibly based off Syriac or Aramaic alphabets that were adapted to Sogdian and other Iranian languages, but it isn't clear. We are told that the people dressed in felt and hemp clothing, with fur and “cotton” garments.  Their clothes fit tightly, and they kept their hair cut short, exposing the top of their heads—though sometimes they shaved it completely, tying a colored silk band around the forehead. He goes on to describe these people as greedy liars, possibly a reference to the mercantile nature of many of the people at the time. Something to note: The Turks of this time had not yet encountered Islam, which was just now starting to rise up in the Middle East.  The Prophet Muhammad is said to have been born around the end of the 6th century CE and was preaching in the early 7th century, though his teachings would begin to spread outward soon enough.  But that means that the Gokturks were not an Islamic empire.  Rather, their own traditions seem to have focused on the worship of Tengri, an Altaic personification of the universe, often simplified as a “sky god”.  Tengrism can be found amongst the Xiongnu, Mongols, and others, and it was the national religion of the Gokturks themselves, but there were many who also adopted other religions that they encountered, including Zoroastrianism, Christianity, Manichaeism, and Buddhism.  In fact, Xuanzang notes that the Turks he met in Suyab would not sleep or sit on beds made of wood because wood was thought to contain the spirit of fire, which he says they worshipped.  That sounds similar to Zoroastrian beliefs, where fire is associated with Ahura Mazda, who is also worshipped as a sky god.  These may have been beliefs inherited from their Eastern Iranian Sogdian partners. In Xuanzang's biography, we are given more details about his visit to Suyab.  Apparently, as he was headed to the city, he met a hunting party, which we are told was the retinue of Yehu Khan.  Hunting was an important part of life on the steppes, and it continued to be a favorite sport of the Gokturk nobility. Yehu Khan—possibly Yagbhu Khan, though that is up for some debate—is described as being dressed in a green silk robe, with his hair exposed, and wearing  a turban of white silk about ten feet long that wrapped his forehead and hung behind his back.  His “hunting” expedition wasn't just a couple of the guys.  It included about 200 officials, all with plaited hair and dressed in brocade robes—they weren't exactly out there roughing it.  He also had his soldiers, dressed in furs, felt, or fine woolen clothes, and there were so many cavalry that they stretched out of sight.  The Khan seemed pleased to meet Xuanzang, but his hunt was expected to last another couple of days, at least, so he sent an attendant named Dharmaja to take Xuanzang back to wait for the Khan to return. Three days later, Xuanzang was given an audience.  The khan was seated in a large yurt.  Xuanzang noted the seeming incongruity between the khan, sitting there in the tent, decorated with golden flowers, with the officials dressed in magnificent brocade garments sitting in two long rows in front of him and the armed guards behind him, compared to the simple felt walls of the tent. A ”yurt” is a common feature of nomadic life on the steppes.  It wasn't exactly a single person operation to haul them around, but they can be taken down and put up with relative ease.  And while yurts could be relatively simple, there are examples of much more elaborate structures.  There is little reason they couldn't be made larger, perhaps with some extra support.  In later centuries, there are examples of giant yurts that seem like real construction projects.  Use of tents, even in a city, where they had permanent palace buildings, was likely a means of retaining the nomadic steppe traditions, even while enjoying the benefits of city life. Whom exactly Xuanzang met with is a matter of debate.  His records seem to indicate that it was Tong Yabghu Qaghan of the Western Gokturk Khaganate, but other sources say that Tong Yabghu Qaghan died in 628, and the earliest Xuanzang could have been meeting with him was 630, two years later, so if that is the case, he must have met with Tong Yabghu's son, Si Yabghu Qaghan.  It is likely that Xuanzang, who was dictating his accounts years after, mentioned the Qaghan and then, when they looked up who it was, they simply made a mistake.  Remember, Xuanzang would have had everything translated through one or two languages.  He did know what he saw, however, and he recounted what he remembered. Tong Yabghu Qaghan oversaw the height of the Gokturk Qaghanate, and appears to have favored the Buddhist religion, though there were many different religions active in their territories at the time.  They oversaw an extremely cosmopolitan empire covering huge swaths of central Eurasia, including the lucrative silk road.  Xuanzang notes that at the court there were individuals from Gaochang and even a messenger from the Han—which is to say the Tang Empire.  One wonders if Xuanzang—or anyone at that time—realized just how tenuous the Khan'sposition was.  After Tong Yabghu's death, the Qaghanate would decline, and less than a decade later it would fall to the Tang dynasty, who took Suyab and made it their western outpost.  In fact, Suyab is thought to have been the birthplace, over a century later, of a young boy who would find a love of poetry.  That boy's name was Li Bai, or Ri Haku, in Japanese. He would become one of the most famous poets in Chinese history, and his poems were even known and studied in Japan.  And it was largely through Japanese study of Li Bai's poems that his works came to the English speaking world: first through Ernest Fenollosa, who had studied in Japan, and then by the celebrated Ezra Pound, who had used Ernest's notes to help with his own translations of the poems. This was, though, as I said, over a century after Xuanzang's journey.  At the time of our story, the Qaghan was throwing a feast, including Xuanzang and all of the foreign envoys.  Xuanzang comments on the food and drink—his hosts provided grape juice in lieu of wine, and cooked a special vegetarian feast just for him, while the other guests ate a feast of meat, such as veal, lamb, fish, and the like.  There was also the music of various regions along the Silk Road, which Xuanzang found to be catchy, but of course not as refined as the music he was used to, of course.  After dinner Xuanzang was asked to expound upon the Darma, largely about the basic principle that you should be kind to one another—I doubt he was getting into the deep mysteries of Buddhist philosophy. Xuanzang stuck around the court for three more days, during which time the Qaghan tried to get him to stay, but Xuanzang insisted that he had to make it to India.  And so the Qaghan relented.  He found men in his army who could translate for Xuanzang along his journey, and had letters of introduction written to at least as far as the state of Kapisa, in modern Afghanistan. And so, armed with the Qaghan's blessing and a fresh translator, Xuanzang struck out again.  They headed westward for over one hundred miles, eventually reaching Bingyul, aka the Thousand Springs.  This is the area where the Qaghan and his court would spend his summers, and the deer in the area were protected under his orders, so that they were not afraid of humans—which sounds similar to the situation with the deer in Nara.  Continuing on another fifty miles or so—the distances are approximate as Xuanzang's primary duty was not exactly to map all of this out—Xuanzang arrived at the city of Taras, in modern Kazakhstan, another place where the cultures of the Silk Road mixed and mingled.  Xuanzang didn't have much to say about Taraz, apparently, though it is one of the oldest cities in Transoxania, founded near the beginning of the Common Era.  A few miles south of there, Xuanzang reportedly found a village of re-settled ethnic Han that had been captured by the Gokturks and settled here.  They had adopted the dress and customs of the Turkic people, but continued to speak a version of Chinese. Southwest of that he reached the City of White Water, likely referring to Aksukent.  This is the same “Aksu” as the city in Xinjiang, both of which mean “White Water” in Turkic, but this one is in the south of Kazakhstan.  Xuanzang found the climate and products an improvement over what he had experienced in Taras.  Beyond that, he next arrived at the city of Gongyu, and then south again to Nujkend, and then traveling westward to the country of Chach, aka Tashkent.  Both Nujkend and Chach were large cities in nations of smaller, mostly autonomous city-states, which made up a lot of the political geography of Transoxania. I would note that Xuanzang's notes here are much more sparse than previously.  This may be because these were outside of the Tarim basin and therefore of less interest to individuals in the Tang empire.  Or perhaps he was just making his way more quickly and not stopping at every kingdom along the way. From Tashkent, he continued southeast to the Ferghana valley—the country of Feihan.  Oddly, this country doesn't appear in Xuanzang's biography, even though the Ferghana Valley seems to have been fairly well known back in the Tang Empire—it was known as the home of some of the best horses, which were one of its first major exports.  In fact, the Han dynasty even mounted a military expedition to travel to Ferghana just to obtain horses.  Xuanzang is oddly silent on this; however, he does talk about the fertile nature of the land.  He mentions that their language here is different from the lands he had been traveling through up to this point, and also points out that the people of the Ferghana valley were also visibly different from others in the area. From the Ferghana valley, Xuanzang headed west for about 300 miles or more to the land of Sutrushana—perhaps referring to the area of Ushrusana, with its capital of Bunjikat.  This country was also largely Sogdian, and described as similar to Tashkent.  From there, he traveled west through a great desert, passing skeletons, which were the only marker of the trail other than a view of the far off mountains.  Finally, they reached Samarkand, known as the country of “Kang” in Chinese, which was also the term used to mark Sogdians who claimed descent from the people of Samarkand. Samarkand is another of the ancient cities of Central Asia, and even today is the third largest city in modern Uzbekistan.  Human activity in the region goes back to the paleolithic era, and the city was probably founded between the 8th and 7th centuries BCE.  Samarkand was conquered by Alexander the Great, and during the Achaemenid Empire it was the capital of Sogdiana.  During Xuanzang's visit, Samarkand was described as an impenetrable fortress with a large population. For all of his travel, Samarkand was the first place Xuanzang notes as specifically not a Buddhist land.  In fact, there were two monasteries, suggesting that there had been Buddhists, but if any monks tried to stay there then the locals would chase them out with fire.  Instead, they worshipped fire—likely meaning Ahura Mazda and Zoroastrianism.  This leads to a story that I have to wonder about, given the reliability of our narrators. It is said that Xuanzang was met by the King with arrogance, but after staying the night Xuanzang was able to tell the King about Buddhism and its merits.  The king was intrigued, and asked to observe the Precepts, and treated Xuanzang with hospitality and respect.  So when two of Xuanzang's attendants went to the monasteries to worship, they were chased out with fire.  When the king heard about this, he had the people arrested and ordered their hands to be cut off.  Xuanzang could not bear to witness such suffering, however, and he intervened to have them spared.  So instead the king had them flogged and banished from the city.  Ever since then, all the people believed in Buddhism. Some parts of this strike true.  It was likely that the king would entertain this strange wanderer who had arrived with letters from the great Qaghan—that may have even explained why Xuanzang had been encouraged to make the dangerous journey to Suyab in the first place, so that he could obtain such permission.  And it would not be strange for the king to listen to his teachings.  If Xuanzang's attendants were attacked, that would have been a huge breach of hospitality, and however the King felt about it, he no doubt had to do something about it.  And so all of that sounds somewhat believable.  Does that mean everyone suddenly converted to Buddhism?  I don't know that I'm quite willing to go that far.  It is also likely that there were Buddhists there already, even if the majority religion was Zoroastrianism. From Samarkand, Xuanzang traveled farther southwest, to the country of Kasanna, which seems to have been the edge of what we might call Sogdiana.   According to his biographers, however, there was a little more to all of this.  Rather, he headed west to Kusanika.  Then he traveled to  Khargan, and further on to the country of Bukhara, and then to Vadi.  All of these were “An” in Chinese, which was the name element used for Sogdians from this region.  He then continued west to the country of Horismika, on the other side of the Amu Darya, aka the Oxus River of Transoxanian fame. From there he traveled further southwest, entering into the mountains.  The path here was often such that they had to travel single-file, and there was no food or water other than what you brought with you.  Eventually they came to a set of doors, known as the Iron Gate.  This was a Turkic fortress.  It was no doubt fortuitous that he had come from his meeting with the Qaghan, and likely had permission to pass through.  From there, they entered the country of Tukhara. As we noted in Episode 119, Tukhara was in the region of Bactria.  It was bordered by the Pamir range in the east, and the Persian empire in the west.  There were also the Great Snow Mountains in the south, likely referencing the Hindu Kush. Tukhara had been conquered by the Gokturks just within the past couple of decades, and Xuanzang notes that the country had been split into largely autonomous city-states as the local royalty had died without an heir many years before.  With the Gokturk conquest, it was now administered by Tardu Shad, the son of Tong Yabghu Qaghan.  “Shad” in this case was a local title. Here, Xuanzang's narrative gets a little dicey, especially between his biography and his records.  The records of the Western Regions denotes various countries in this area.  It is unclear if he traveled to all of them or is just recounting them from records he obtained.  He does give us at least an overview of the people and the region.  I would also note that this is one of the regions he visited, again, on his return trip, and so may have been more familiar with the region than those areas he had passed through from Suyab on down. For one thing, he notes that the language of the region was different from that of the “Suli”, which appears to refer to the Sogdians.  This was the old territory of the Kushan empire, and they largely spoke Bactrian.  Like Sogdian, it was another Eastern Iranian language, and they used an alphabet based largely on Greek, and written horizontally rather than vertically.  They also had their own coins. This region had plenty of Buddhist communities, and Xuanzang describes the cities and how many monasteries they had, though, again, it isn't clear if he actually visited all of them or not.  These are countries that Li Rongji translates as “Tirmidh”, “Sahaaniyan”, “Kharuun”, “Shuumaan”, etc. It does seem that Xuanzang made it to the capital city, the modern city Kunduz, Afghanistan. Xuanzang actually had something specific for the local Gokturk ruler, Tardu Shad.  Tardu Shad's wife was the younger sister of King Qu Wentai of Gaochang, whom we met last episode.  Qu Wentai had provided Xuanzang a letter for his younger sister and her husband.  Unfortunately, Xuanzang arrived to learn that the princess of Gaochang had passed away, and Tardu Shad's health was failing.  It does seem that Tardu Shad was aware of Xuanzang, however—a letter had already come from Qu Wentai to let them know that Xuanzang was on his way.  As I mentioned last episode, letters were an important part of how communities stayed tied together.  Of course, given the perils of the road, one assumes that multiple letters likely had to be sent just in case they didn't make it.  The US Postal Service this was not. Tardu Shad, though not feeling well, granted an interview with Xuanzang.  He suggested that Xuanzang should stick around.  Then, once the Shad had recovered from his illness, he would accompany Xuanzang personally on his trip to India.  Unfortunately, that was not to be.  While Xuanzang was staying there, he was witness to deadly drama.  Tardu Shad was recovering, which was attributed to the recitations by an Indian monk who was also there.  This outcome was not exactly what some in the court had wanted.  One of the Shad's own sons, known as the Tagin prince, plotted with the Shad's current wife, the young Khatun, and she poisoned her husband.  With the Shad dead, the throne might have gone to the son of the Gaochang princess, but he was still too young.  As such, the Tagin Prince was able to usurp the throne himself, and he married his stepmother, the young Khatun.  The funeral services for the late Tardu Shad meant that Xuanzang was obliged to stay at Ghor for over a month. During that time, Xuanzang had a seemingly pleasant interaction with an Indian monk.  And when he finally got ready to go, he asked the new Shad for a guide and horses.  He agreed, but also made the suggestion that Xuanzang should then head to Balkh.  This may have meant a bit of backtracking, but the Shad suggested that it would be worth it, as Balkh had a flourishing Buddhist community. Fortunately, there was a group of Buddhist monks from Balkh who happened to be in Kunduz to express their condolences at the passing of Tardu Shad, and they agreed to accompany Xuanzang back to their hometown, lest he end up getting lost and taking the long way there. The city of Balkh is also known as “Baktra”, as in “Bactria”, another name of this region.  A settlement has been there since at least 500 BCE , and it was already an important city when it was captured by Alexander the Great.  It sits at the confluence of several major trade routes, which no doubt were a big part of its success.  Xuanzang's biography notes that it was a massive city, though it was relatively sparsely populated—probably due to the relatively recent conquest by the Gokturks, which had occurred in the last couple of decades.  That said, there were still thousands of monks residing at a hundred monasteries in and around the city.  They are all characterized as monks of Theravada schools.  Southwest of the city was a monastery known as Navasamgharama, aka Nava Vihara, or “New Monastery”.  Despite its name, the monastery may have actually been much older, going back to the Kushan emperor Kaniska, in the 2nd century CE.  Ruins identified as this “New Monastery” are still visible south of Balkh, today. The monastery is described as being beautifully decorated, and it seems that it had a relic—one of the Buddha's teeth.  There are also various utensils that the Buddha is said to have used, as well.  The objects would be displayed on festival days.  North of the monastery there was a stupa more than 200 feet in height.  South of the monastery was a hermitage.  Each monk who studied there and passed away would have a stupa erected for them, as well.  Xuanzang notes that there were at around 700 memorial stupas, such that they had to be crammed together, base to base. It was here that Xuanzang met a young monk named Prajnaakara, who was already somewhat famous in India, and well-studied.  When questioned about certain aspects of Buddhism, Xuanzang was impressed by the monk's answers, and so stayed there a month studying with the young monk. Eventually, Xuanzang was ready to continue on his journey.  He departed Balkh towards the south, accompanying the teacher Prajnakara, and together they entered the Great Snow Mountains, aka the Hindu Kush.  This path was even more dangerous than the trip through the Tian Shan mountains to Suyab.   They eventually left the territory of Tukhara and arrived at Bamiyan.  Bamiyan was a kingdom in the Hindu Kush, themselves an extension of the Himalayan Mountain range.  It Is largely based around valley, home to the modern city of Bamyan, Afghanistan, which sits along the divide between Central Asia and the Indian subcontinent.  Today it is a major center for individuals of the Hazara ethnic group, one of the main ethnic groups in Afghanistan, which is a multi-ethnic state that includes, today, the Pashtun, Hazara, Tajik, and Uzbek people, along with a number of smaller ethnic groups.  Today they largely reside in the mountainous areas of the Hindu Kush. Bamiyan made an impact on our protagonist.   Their language was slightly different from that in Tukhara, but using the same—or similar enough—writing system.  Buddhism was thriving in the capital, and we are told of a rock statue of the standing Buddha, over a hundred feet in height, along with a copper statue of the standing Buddha nearby.    There was also another reclining Buddha a mile or two down the road.  There were multiple monasteries with thousands of monks, and the ruler of that kingdom received Xuanzang well. Xuanzang wasn't the first monk to travel to Bamiyan from the Middle Kingdom—in this he was, perhaps unwittingly, on the trail of the monk Faxian.  Faxian likely did not see these statues, though, as we believe they were built in the 6th and early 7th century—at least the stone Buddha statues.  They were a famous worship site until February 2001, when the Taliban gave an order to destroy all of the statues in Afghanistan.  Despite this, they were inscribed as UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2003. Fortunately, we have images from before their destruction.  These statues were a blend of Greco-Buddhist and Gandharan art styles—appropriate as it stands between the Hellenistic area of Tukhara and the ancient region of Gandhara—including the modern city of Kandahar and into the Indus Valley region of Pakistan. Continuing east through the mountains, Xuanzang eventually came out at the kingdom of Kapisa.  This may have had its capital around modern-day Bagram, north of modern Kabul, but the country seems to have been quite large.  Kapisa over saw some tens of other countries, and it is thought that at one time its influence extended from Bamyan and Kandahar to the area of modern Jalalabad.  Their language was even more different than that of Tukhara, but they were still using the same writing system.  The king of Kapisa is said to have been of Suli ethnicity—which would seem to indicate that he was Sogdian, or at least descended from people of the Transoxanian region.    Xuanzang notes that the ruler, as rough and fiery as he is described—as a true warlord or similar—he nonetheless made a silver image of the Buddha, eighteen feet in height, every year.  He also gave charity to the poor and needy in an assembly that was called every five years.  There were over one hundred monasteries and some 6000 monks, per Xuanzang's recollection, and notably, they were largely following Mahayana teachings. For the most part the monks that Xuanzang had encountered on this journey were Theravada—Xuanzang refers to them as “Hinayana”, referring to the “Lesser Vehicle” in contrast to Xuanzang's own “Mahayana”, or “Greater Vehicle”.  “Theravada” refers to the “way of the elders” and while Mahayana Buddhism largely accepts the sutras of Theravada Buddhism, there are many Mahayana texts that Theravada Buddhists do not believe are canonical.  We discussed this back in Episode 84. There was apparently a story of another individual from the Yellow River being sent as a hostage to Kapisa when it was part of the Kushan Empire, under Kanishka or similar.  Xuanzang recounts various places that the hostage, described as a prince, lived or visited while in the region.  Xuanzang's arrival likely stirred the imagination of people who likely knew that the Tang were out there, but it was such a seemingly impossible distance for most people.  And yet here was someone who had traveled across all of that distance.  One of the monasteries that claimed to have been founded because of that ancient Han prince invited Xuanzang to stay with them.  Although it was a Theravada monastery, Xuanzang took them up on the offer, both because of the connection to someone who may have been his countryman, but also because of his traveling companion, Prajnakara, who was also a Theravada monk, and may not be comfortable staying at a Mahayana monastery. Xuanzang spends a good deal of ink on the stories of how various monasteries and other sites were founded in Kapisa and the surrounding areas.  He must have spent some time there to accumulate all of this information.  It is also one of the places where he seems to have hit at least twice—once on the way to India, and once during his return journey. The King of Kapisa is said to have been a devotee of Mahayana Buddhism.  He invited Xuanzang and Prajnakara to come to a Mahayana monastery to hold a Dharma gathering.  There they met with several leading figures in the monastery, and they discussed different theories.  This gathering lasted five days, and at the end, the king offered Xuanzang and the other monks five bolts of pure brocade and various other gifts.  Soon thereafter, the monk Prajnakara was invited back to Tukhara, and so he and Xuanzang parted ways. And it was about time for Xuanzang to continue onwards as well.  From Kapisa, he would travel across the “Black Range” and into Lampaka.  This may refer to the area of Laghman or Jalalabad.  Today, this is in modern Afghanistan, but for Xuanzang, this would have been the northwestern edge of India.  He was almost there. And so are we, but we'll save his trip into India for next episode. Until then thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

Pep Guardiola was full of praise for Abdukodir Khusanov after another solid performance from the young Uzbek defender. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

THIS WEEK's BIRDS: vintage Roy Haynes (revisted); Sun Ra w. Walt Dickerson (piano/vibes duo); new jazz from Jesica Jones Quartet; Tajik Disco from Khurmo Shirinova; experimental electric(ish) jazz from Janel Leptin as well as Mendoza Hoff Revels and Drazek Fuscaldo (erstwhile Moca Sica, w. Hamid Drake, Tatsu Aoki, Thymme Jones, and Joshua Abrams);  new Pakistani vocal raga from Ustad Saami; Uzbek song from K. Khadzhiev; experimental pop from Asa Horvitz, Carmen Quill, Ariadne Randall & Wayne Horvitz; vintage North African music/songs, including  L'Orchestre National Mauritanien, Salim Halal (in Morocco). Dahmane el Harrache (Algerian cha'abi); Chef Nasro (Algerian Rai via  French cabaret); Cheikh Sabah (Arabo-Andalusian classical music from Morocco); new directions in Gnawa from Asma Hamzaoui & Bnat Tombouctou as well as Maalem Abdenbi El Meknassi; and of course, so much, much more...   Catch the BIRDS live on Friday nights, 9:00pm-MIDNIGHT (EST), in Central New York on WRFI, 88.1 FM Ithaca/ 88.5 FM Odessa;. and WORLDWIDE online via our MUSIC PLAYER at WRFI.ORG. 24/7 via PODBEAN: https://conferenceofthebirds.podbean.com/ via iTUNES: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/conference-of-the-birds-podcast/id478688580 Also available at podomatic, Internet Archive, podtail, iheart Radio, and elsewhere. Always FREE of charge to listen to the radio program and free also to stream, download, and subscribe to the podcast online: PLAYLIST at SPINITRON: https://spinitron.com/WRFI/pl/20260345/Conference-of-the-Birds and via the Conference of the Birds page at www.WRFI.ORG https://www.wrfi.org/wrfiprograms/conferenceofthebirds/  Join us on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/conferenceofthebirds/?ref=bookmarks Find WRFI on Radio Garden: http://radio.garden/visit/ithaca-ny/aqh8OGBR

Women's Dance Traditions of Uzbekistan: Legacy of the Silk Road (Bloomsbury, 2024) is the first comprehensive work in English on the three major regional styles of Uzbek women's dance – Ferghana, Khiva and Bukhara – and their broader Silk Road cultural connections, from folklore roots to contemporary stage dance. The book surveys the remarkable development from the earliest manifestations in ancient civilizations to a sequestered existence under Islam; from patronage under Soviet power to a place of pride for Uzbek nationhood. It considers the role that immigration had to play on the development of the dances; how women boldly challenged societal gender roles to perform in public; how both material culture and the natural world manifest in the dance; and it illuminates the innovations of pioneering choreographers who drew from Central Asian folk traditions, gestures and aesthetics – not Russian ballet – to first shape modern Uzbek stage dance. Written by the first American dancer invited to study in Uzbekistan, this book offers insight into the once-hidden world of Uzbek women's dance. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Women's Dance Traditions of Uzbekistan: Legacy of the Silk Road (Bloomsbury, 2024) is the first comprehensive work in English on the three major regional styles of Uzbek women's dance – Ferghana, Khiva and Bukhara – and their broader Silk Road cultural connections, from folklore roots to contemporary stage dance. The book surveys the remarkable development from the earliest manifestations in ancient civilizations to a sequestered existence under Islam; from patronage under Soviet power to a place of pride for Uzbek nationhood. It considers the role that immigration had to play on the development of the dances; how women boldly challenged societal gender roles to perform in public; how both material culture and the natural world manifest in the dance; and it illuminates the innovations of pioneering choreographers who drew from Central Asian folk traditions, gestures and aesthetics – not Russian ballet – to first shape modern Uzbek stage dance. Written by the first American dancer invited to study in Uzbekistan, this book offers insight into the once-hidden world of Uzbek women's dance. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/central-asian-studies

Women's Dance Traditions of Uzbekistan: Legacy of the Silk Road (Bloomsbury, 2024) is the first comprehensive work in English on the three major regional styles of Uzbek women's dance – Ferghana, Khiva and Bukhara – and their broader Silk Road cultural connections, from folklore roots to contemporary stage dance. The book surveys the remarkable development from the earliest manifestations in ancient civilizations to a sequestered existence under Islam; from patronage under Soviet power to a place of pride for Uzbek nationhood. It considers the role that immigration had to play on the development of the dances; how women boldly challenged societal gender roles to perform in public; how both material culture and the natural world manifest in the dance; and it illuminates the innovations of pioneering choreographers who drew from Central Asian folk traditions, gestures and aesthetics – not Russian ballet – to first shape modern Uzbek stage dance. Written by the first American dancer invited to study in Uzbekistan, this book offers insight into the once-hidden world of Uzbek women's dance. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/performing-arts

Women's Dance Traditions of Uzbekistan: Legacy of the Silk Road (Bloomsbury, 2024) is the first comprehensive work in English on the three major regional styles of Uzbek women's dance – Ferghana, Khiva and Bukhara – and their broader Silk Road cultural connections, from folklore roots to contemporary stage dance. The book surveys the remarkable development from the earliest manifestations in ancient civilizations to a sequestered existence under Islam; from patronage under Soviet power to a place of pride for Uzbek nationhood. It considers the role that immigration had to play on the development of the dances; how women boldly challenged societal gender roles to perform in public; how both material culture and the natural world manifest in the dance; and it illuminates the innovations of pioneering choreographers who drew from Central Asian folk traditions, gestures and aesthetics – not Russian ballet – to first shape modern Uzbek stage dance. Written by the first American dancer invited to study in Uzbekistan, this book offers insight into the once-hidden world of Uzbek women's dance. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/russian-studies

Women's Dance Traditions of Uzbekistan: Legacy of the Silk Road (Bloomsbury, 2024) is the first comprehensive work in English on the three major regional styles of Uzbek women's dance – Ferghana, Khiva and Bukhara – and their broader Silk Road cultural connections, from folklore roots to contemporary stage dance. The book surveys the remarkable development from the earliest manifestations in ancient civilizations to a sequestered existence under Islam; from patronage under Soviet power to a place of pride for Uzbek nationhood. It considers the role that immigration had to play on the development of the dances; how women boldly challenged societal gender roles to perform in public; how both material culture and the natural world manifest in the dance; and it illuminates the innovations of pioneering choreographers who drew from Central Asian folk traditions, gestures and aesthetics – not Russian ballet – to first shape modern Uzbek stage dance. Written by the first American dancer invited to study in Uzbekistan, this book offers insight into the once-hidden world of Uzbek women's dance. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Manchester City has made history by signing Abdukodir Khusanov from Lens for €40 million plus add-ons, making him the first Uzbeki player to join the Premier League. Abdukodir Khikmatovich Khusanov is an Uzbek professional footballer who plays as a centre-back for Premier League club Manchester City and the Uzbekistan national team.

Guardiola's side have been the busiest of the bunch this January transfer window, and it looks like they're not stopping at £33.5m Uzbek defender Khusanov. But does their activity smell of panic and desperation, or shrewd and necessary business? And Wolves may go into the final stages of the window with their star man Matheus Cunha potentially leaving! Keep up to date with us on our socials here: Twitter: https://twitter.com/FSDPod Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sportsocialofficial/ Telegram Group: https://t.me/FootballSocial Niall: https://x.com/niallmccaughan Joel: https://x.com/JoelTudor00 Marley: https://x.com/91Marley Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

The Author Events Series presents Caroline Eden | Cold Kitchen: A Year of Culinary Travels REGISTER In Conversation with Jonathan Deutsch From the author of Red Sands, a New Yorker "Best Cookbook of the Year," a cozy, thoughtful memoir recalling food and travel in Eastern Europe and Central Asia from a basement Edinburgh kitchen, featuring a delicious recipe at the end of each chapter. A welcoming refuge with its tempting pantry, shelves of books, and inquisitive dog, Caroline Eden's basement Edinburgh kitchen offers her comfort away from the road. Join her as she cooks recipes from her travels, reflects on past adventures, and contemplates the kitchen's unique ability to tell human stories. This is a hauntingly honest, and at times heartbreaking, memoir with the smell, taste, and preparation of food at its heart. From late night baking as a route back to Ukraine to capturing the beauty of Uzbek porcelain, and from the troublesome nature of food and art in Poland to the magic of cloudberries, Cold Kitchen celebrates the importance of curiosity and of feeling at home in the world. Caroline Eden is a writer, book critic, and the award-winning author of Red Sands: Reportage and Recipes through Central Asia, from Hinterland to Heartland, a New Yorker Book of the Year; Black Sea: Dispatches and Recipes-Through Darkness and Light; and Samarkand: Recipes and Stories from Central Asia & the Caucasus. She has travelled extensively to countries such as Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Ukraine, Russia, Turkey, and Bangladesh, documenting her experiences across multiple publications including Financial Times, the Guardian, and the Times Literary Supplement, as well as on BBC Radio 4's "From Our Own Correspondent." She lives in Edinburgh. Jonathan Deutsch, Ph.D., CHE, CRC is Professor and Vice Chair of Health Sciences, which encompasses Culinary, Food, Nutrition, Exercise and Health Sciences at Drexel University. He is the Founding Program Director of Drexel's Food Innovation and Entrepreneurship Programs. He is past President of the Upcycled Food Foundation and previously was the inaugural James Beard Foundation Impact Fellow, leading a national curriculum effort on food waste reduction for chefs and culinary educators. He was named a Food Waste Warrior by Foodtank. Before moving to Drexel, Deutsch built the culinary arts program at Kingsborough Community College, City University of New York (CUNY) and the Ph.D. concentration in food studies at the CUNY Graduate Center and School of Public Health. At Drexel, he directs the Drexel Food Lab, a culinary innovation and food product research and development lab focused on solving real world food system problems in the areas of sustainability, health promotion, and inclusive dining. He is the co-author or -editor of eight books. A classically trained chef, Deutsch worked in a variety of settings including product development, small luxury inns and restaurants. When not in the kitchen, he can be found behind his tuba. The 2024/25 Author Events Series is presented by Comcast. Because you love Author Events, please make a donation when you register for this event to ensure that this series continues to inspire Philadelphians. Books will be available for purchase at the library on event night! All tickets are non-refundable. (recorded 1/16/2025)

Last time we continued to speak about the Kumul Rebellion.. Ma Shaowu, appointed as Taoyin, executed rival Ma Fuxing and tightened anti-Soviet policies, responding to growing Soviet influence following Yang Zengxin's assassination in 1928. Kashgar became a refuge for conservative Turkic Muslims opposing Chinese authority, amidst a backdrop of rising tension with Tungan troops, perceived as oppressors. By 1931, as news of the Kumul Rebellion spread, resistance against the Han Chinese intensified, emboldening local insurgents to unite against their enemies. In May 1932, Jin sought vengeance against Tsetsen Puntsag Gegeen, the Torgut Mongol regent, hosting him under the guise of an investigation. At a banquet, Tsetsen was executed, igniting fury among the Turkic peoples. As the Kumul Rebellion grew, rebel leaders Ma Fuming and Ma Shihming united forces, launching assaults that devastated Chinese control. By March 1933, Ma Shaowu found his authority diminished, desperately appealing for British aid as rebellion spread, leaving Xinjiang in chaos.   #134 Kumul Rebellion part 3: A Game of Thrones in Southern Xinjiang Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. So we last left off in mid March, where Ma Shaowu's control over southern Xinjiang had diminished to just a wedge of territory around Kashgar, Maral Bashi and Yarkland. Morale was so low, Ma Shaowu asked the British Indian government for military assistance as it seemed apparent no help would come from Urumqi. Ma Shaowu had received 3 telegrams from Jin via the USSR lines; the first confirmed his position as Commander in Chief; the second relayed Jin's brother's death and the third directed Jin Kashgar representatives to remit a large sum of money to his personal bank account in Tientsin. That last signal must have been a banger to read. Despite reinforcements sent to Yarkland under Colonel Chin, rampant inflation went unchecked and a sense of panic spread amongst the Chinese officials stationed in the region. In response the Chinese officials began withdrawing into Yarkland New City which was fortified with walls being hurriedly repaired and reinforced. Apparently heavy stones were placed all atop the walls to be thrown upon the rebels and 500 dummy figures were placed on the walls to “give the impression of a well-manned rampart”. When you start making dummy's for a wall defense, you know you are going to die. On March 21st, insurgent forces at Tokhta Langar advanced upon Yarkland. Colonel Chin's men made no attempt to resist the rebels and instead looted Guma and fell back using little known hill track by passing Karghalik and Posgam, killing large numbers of Uyghur civilians for good measure in the process. The rebels advanced straight to Yarkland unnopposed seizing Karghalik and Posgam in the process. Within both places a number of Hindu moneylenders of British Indian nationality were slaughtered. Back in Yarkland New City the provincial forces continued to bolster their defenses. By late March a group of 150 Chinese troops who had fled the rebels at Khotan arrived with a further 300 showing up to the oasis on April 2nd. During this period Muslim insurgents had massed up along the east bank of Yarkland River. They looked ill-armed and untrained as they forced the river during the first week of April. On the 11th of April Yarkland Old City fell to a mixed rebel force from Khotan, Karghalik and Posgam, seeing roughly 100 Chinese who were still outside the fortified New City massacred. In the afternoon, the bazaar connecting the Old and New Cities of Yarkand was set ablaze and completely destroyed. The shops belonging to Chinese moneylenders were ravaged, and their belongings were looted, leading to a siege of Yarkand New City. On the 12, rebel forces moved beyond Yarkand towards Kok Rabat, a key point on the route to Kashgar. At the same time, additional insurgent reinforcements from Khotan began to pour into the Yarkand Oasis. So by April, Ma Shaowu's position was simply done for, his only hope was to reach an agreement with the incoming force led by Ma Chanzeng. He opened up negotiations with Ma Chanzeng through the British Consul General at Kashgar, Fitzmaurice. However Ma Chanzeng could not speak for his Uyghur ally Temur, whom he was having issues with. To make matters worse, the Kirghiz levies began to mutiny on April 5th at Sughun Karaul, a Chinese fortified post roughly 65 miles northwest of Kashgar. This was followed by peasant uprisings amongst the Uyghurs at Artush and Fayzabad. Facing this Ma Shaowu ordered Brigadier Yang and the troops at Maral Bashi to fall back to Kashgar. Before departing Maral Bashi Yans troops burned and looted the town after which “They set out on their way to Kashgar with a large number of carts laden with refugees or loot or both; but this proved to be the last straw. The troops made slow progress, and in the meantime the whole countryside, incensed beyond endurance, rose against the Chinese. A bridge was broken at Kara Yulgun and, while the column was halted, it was set upon by a vast horde of rebels”. Karma is a bitch as they say. Brigadier Yang was wounded during the ambush and taken prisoner by rebels. Of his original force of around 1000, its estimated only 65 men limped back to Kashgar by the 27th of april. Meanwhile the main bulk of the Kirghiz mutineers advanced to Artush by April 15th from whence they menaced Kashgar as other Kirghiz groups attacked Kizil Oi and Ulugh Chat and demolish Chinese pots at Bulun Kul. With the dissolvement of Brigadier Yangs forces from Maral Bashi, Kashgar was completely vulnerable and isolated. Ma Shaowu, was probably very anxious to reach an agreement with Ma Chanzeng, but still took the precaution of preparing for a siege. As the Chinese were soiling themselves awaiting the rebel attacks, suddenly a divide emerged between the Tungan and Turkic factions. It appeared Ma Chanzeng had become concerned over reports of Uyghur insurgents rising up in Khotan, who owed him no loyalty. So he decided to reach an agreement with Ma Shaowu. Ma Shaowu agreed to allow Tungan power to be established at Kashgar, the military and economic key to southern Xinjiang. Ma Chanzeng dispatched a message via the British Consul general at Kashgar offering assurance that the sole objective of the Tungan forces in Xinjiang was to overthrow the tyrannical Jin Shujen and his reforms. Thus having seemingly distanced himself from the Turkic speaking Muslims of the south, whose apparent goal was to fully succeed from the Chinese Republic, Ma Chanzeng and Temur advanced to Kashgar.  Back over in Kashgar Old City, Turkic speaking nationalists calling themselves the Young Kashgar Party or “YKP” had become suspicious of Ma Chanzeng's motives and believed perhaps there was collusion between Gansu Tungans and Ma Shaowu. The Uyghurs feared this would lead to Tungan domination of Kashgar and the replacement of Han Chinese tyrants for Tungan tyrants. 7 leading members of the YKP set out from Kashgar to persuade Ma Chanzeng that Ma Shaowu would betray him. They met at Fayzabad with Uthman Ali, the leader of the Kirghiz mutineers present. Upon hearing their plea, Ma Chanzeng asked Uthman Ali to lead the Kirghiz to attack Kashgar Old City. Early on May 2nd, Uthman Ali led a large Kirghiz force against the Old city and according to the eye witness account of the British Consul General “They took up positions opposite each of the four gates of the city and at the same time sent parties to call up the country people Uyghurs. These appeared from all sides in thousands, armed with clubs and sticks, and there was a great display of enthusiasm ... Firing continued until about two in the afternoon, when the Kirghiz either forced an entry or were admitted by the Tushik Gate'. Most of the non-Chinese garrison simply joined the rebels. At the yamen, Ma Shaowu and his personal bodyguard continued to hold out as the Kirghiz secured the Old City, but notably prevented the Uyghurs from looting and ordered them back to their villages. The reason for this unexpected restraint became clear the next day, when the Kirghiz were left in sole possession of the Old City, and who proceeded to sack it themselves. The British Consul General estimated 100 Chinese were killed and their looted property was carried off or auctioned on the street. During the afternoon around 300 Uyghurs led by Temur arrived at Kashgar and were admitted into the Old City without any question by the Kirghiz, followed by the Tungans with Ma Chanzeng. Both forces marched to the walls of Kashgar New City, roughly 2.5 miles distant and after negotiations with the Chinese defenders were allowed entrance. The British Consul General had this to say of the moment “It was probably better to surrender to the Tungans than to be slaughtered by the Kirghiz”. With the fall of Kashgar New City, Han Chinese power in southern Xinjiang, excluding the besieged garrison of Yarkland New City was effectively brought to an end.  On May 7th, Ma Chanzeng realized the YKP had misled him and that Temur was under their influence and thus no longer a reliable ally. After the capture of Kashgar Old City, it seems the Kirghiz began negotiating with Temur over the spoils of their victory and made zero attempt to loot the Old City Yamen where Ma Shaowu was holding out. Ma Shaowu would make a invaluable ally against the Turkic nationalists who controlled Old city and much of southern Xinjiang. Thus Ma Chanzeng began secretly negotiating with Ma Shaowu. As a result the next day, Ma Chanzengs men put up notices announcing that the Taoyin and other officials of the former regime should retain their official posts. This obviously pissed off the Turkic Muslims who did now share the same loyalty to the Chinese Republic as the Tungans. The Kirghiz immediately manned the walls and closed the gates of the Old City, preparing to face the Tungans. At this point Ma Shaowu defused the situation temporarily by resigning as Taoyin and handed the officials seals over to Ma Chanzeng. Ma Chanzeng did not take the title of Taoyin, but certainly controlled the Old City Yamen and New City, keeping Ma Shaowu close and protected. It seems Ma Chanzengs strategy was to try and drive a wedge between Uthman Ali's Kirghiz and Temurs Uyghurs before a unified Turkic alliance could form, perhaps one that even incorporated Khotan forces. He was of course concerned with limiting the influence of the YKP who seemed to be as anti-Tungan as they were anti-Chinese. On the 10th he ordered the arrest of the most prominent YKP leader, Abd al-Rahim Bay Bachcha, who was released only after agreeing to supply the Tungan forces with 1000 uniforms at his own expense. Following this, Ma Chanzeng seized Temur who had just been proclaimed commander in chief of the combined Muslim armies at Kashgar. Temuar was invited to a meeting at the Old City Yamen on the 17th where he was placed under arrest. Had Ma Chanzeng managed to transfer his captive into the New City, he may have succeeded in his plans. But he did not have enough men to man both the Old and New Cities and when he tried to block the Uyghurs and Kirghiz from rescuing Temur they simply stormed the city walls.  With the failure to secure Temur, Ma Chanzeng had basically revealed to the Turkic Muslims and confirmed the claims of the YKP that he intended to set up a Tungan regime in Kashgar. On May 18th the pissed of Kirghiz mounted a surprise attack on the Old City. They avoided the yamen where Ma Chanzeng and Ma Shaowu remained, as Tungan forces there were heavily armed with artillery and machine guns, but murdered any other Tungans they found in the Old City. Fighting went on throughout the day and night. As a result of the Kirghiz attack, Ma Chanzeng agreed to hand control over Kashgar to Temur and Uthman Ali. On the 19th a very inconclusive treaty was signed seeing Temur confirmed as the Commander in Chief and Uthman Ali promoted to General in command of Kirghiz forces. Ma Chanzeng was given no official position, but retained control of the TUngan troops and on the 22nd accompanied by all of them withdrew from the yamen to Kashgar New City. Meanwhile Ma Chanzengs Tungan chief of staff, Su Qinzhou and Yunus Beg, a Uyghur of Kumul were appointed joint Taoyin of Kashgar and Ma Shaowu was permitted to take up residence in a nearby country house under protection from both Temur and Chanzeng.  The truce was followed awkward and uneasy peace with the Tungans controlling New City and the Turking speaking Muslims the Old City and Taoyins yamen. Fitzmaurice went on to state “that 'Ma Chanzeng, Temur and Uthman Ali all settled down to the congenial business of accumulating wealth and wives, whilst the YKP continued its intrigues against the Tungans, organized a 'parliament' of forty members, subsequently greatly expanded, and sent two delegates to Khoja Niyas Hajji, the leader of the Uighur rebels at Kumul”.  By this point it seemed Temur had fallen completely under the influence of the YKP and began issuing passports styling himself as “Temur Shah”. These documents also employed the Islamic Hijri date and not the Chinese Republic date, thwarting Nanjing's authority.  Over in the southern rim of the Tarim Basin, an are untroubled by the Tungan invasion and free from the Kirghiz movement, Khotan had emerged as a center of exclusive Uyghur control. Ismail Khan Khoja, the leader of the gold miner rebels of Karakash was soon eclipsed by the Uyghur nationalist committee for national revolution, known as the CNR, who was founded in Khotan in early 1932 by Muhammad Amin Bughra. Muhammad Amin Bughra was a scholar in his 30's and alongside his two younger brothers, Abdullah and Nur Ahmad, with some friends and fellow students began the movement. In early 1933 this group was joined by Abd al-Baqi Sabit Damullah, a teacher and former Qadi, that being an islamic judge from Kulja who had traveled extensively through the USSR, Turkey, Egypt and India. According to Muhammad Amin Bughra, “Sabit Damullah brought political information and experience to the Khotanlik Committee for National Revolution”. They were only 300 members who possessed nothing more than 50 antiquated rifles. Their political philosophy, like that of the YKP was uncompromising, they were nationalists who were extremely anti-communist, anti-christian, anti-tungan and anti-Han. The CNR favored the establishment of an Islamic theocracy in Xinjiang, with Muhammad AMin Bughra as its head of state. Muhammad Amin Bughra was working in Khotan as a mudarris, or teacher at Quranic college when an uprising began in February of 1933 in Karakash and Surghak. On the 20th of February the CNR leadership met and formed a provisional government with Muhammad Niyas Alam as president, Sabit Damullah as Prime Minister and Muhammad Amin Bughra as commander of the armed forces. Muhammad Amin Bughra also took the title “Amir al-islam” while his younger brothers took “Amir Abdullah khan” and “Amir Nur Ahmad Jan”. In most sources the rise of the CNR provisional government is referred to as the Government of the Khotan Amirs. Their new government was religiously intolerant, as a result when Khotan New City was captured on March 16th, the 266 or so Han Chinese there were forcibly converted to Islam. Following that, the Hindu moneylenders were murdered and the Swedish missionaries were exiled. Shari a law was implemented under the CNR with strict application of hadd criminal legislation. Between March and April the regime was reinforced by Janib Beg, a well known Basmachi leader who fled the USSR to reside in the Keriya Oasis under Ma Shaowu's control. Janib Beg made common cause with the Amirs and given his extensive military experience during the Basmachi struggle was placed in charge of a large body of Khotanlik rebel forces.  After they secured the Khotan Oasis, the Amirs began expanding their influence east towards Lop Nor and west towards Kashgar. In response to a appeal from the Uyghurs of Charchan who were resisting their Tungan liberators, a force of 100 Khotanliks came to guard against the Kara Shahr Tungan who were occupying the Charkhlik Oasis. Meanwhile in the west, Khotanlik forces captured Guma, Karghalik, Posgam and Yarkland Old City by early April. During the fight for Yarkland New City, over 2000 Han Chinese and Tungans were besieged by their forces. On the 24th, Amir Badullah Khan arrived to Yarkland to personally oversee the siege of its New City. According to Fitzmaurice, the Khotanlik forces had organized a military band, were doning red uniforms in stark contrast to the Tungan troops of Ma Chanzeng who wore green. Amir Badullah was greeted with a large ceremony as Turking speaking officials who had previously served under the Han Chinese were dragged through the streets in chains. On the 27th Amir Abdullah ordered the Swedish missionaries in Yarkland to be arrested and brought to him. We are told “Abdullah kicked and beat them himself, announcing that by their teaching the missionaries had destroyed the religion of Islam, and that it was therefore his duty to kill them'. The poor Swe's were only saved from a firing squad by the intervention of some British officials, instead they were exiled. Afterwards Abdullah focused his attention upon the siege of Yarkland New City. He ordered the water supply cut and for tunnels to be made to breach the walls. On the 27th three delegates from Ma Shaowu came to Yarkland and attempted to negotiate with Abdullah. Abdullahs response was to shoot a prisoner in their presence in what he called “a method of bringing them to a proper state of mind”. Then Abdullah sent them into the besieged New City to inform its defenders that their lives and property would be spared if they simply agreed to convert to Islam and lay down their arms. The besieged Han Chinese led by Colonel Qin, hastily agreed to the terms and on May 12th prepared to surrender. Shortly before this date however, the first Tungan and Turkic speaking troops, fresh from their victory at Kashgar arrived. Believing victory was well within his grasp, Abdullah became openly hostile with the Tungans and made it clear the newcomers were not appreciated. Faced with Khotanlik hostility, the small but well armed Tungans who owed their allegiance to Ma Chanzeng, and through him to Ma Chongying, entered the New City and strengthened its Tungan elements against the Khotanliks. Abdullah was shocked by this revelation and his hostility also had the effect of hardening the Chinese Muslim troops. They even sortied on May 18th briefly attacking and capturing the Altin and Khanqah gates of Yarkland Old City, setting fire to the surrounding areas before pulling back to New City. The Uyghur troops of Aksu and Kashgar led by Hafiz, a subordinate of Temur seemed to be keeping a neutral stance until the 22nd when news of the Tungan-Turkic conflict at Kashgar reached them. Following this, the two Turkic speaking armies at Yarkland cooperated in the siege of the New City. Despite the cooperation, Hafiz and Abdullah remained bitter rivals. Facing the united Turkic attack and realizing there would be no relief efforts from Kashgar, the Chinese of Yarkland New City surrendered on the 26th taking the original terms Abdullah had given them back on the 12th. The surrender would be incomplete however as the Tungans insisted on retaining their weapons and being allowed to go to Kashgar. The victorious Uyghurs and Kirghiz took 540 rifles from the Chinese and divided the spoils. However the men under Hafiz notably took the best quality rifles out of the pickings.  The defeated Chinese and defiant Tungans were divided into two groups roughly 1000 each and given permission to go to Kashgar. Neither party would reach its destination unmolested however. The first column, made up mostly of Tungan cavalry, was attacked and cut to pieces near Kizil. What became known as the Kizil Massacre was performed by a group of Kirghiz who owed their allegiance to Uthman Ali. Following the Kizil massacre, the Kirghiz irregulars entered Yangi Hissar where they killed all the Han Chinese and Tungans they could find. The second column was attacked and looted before they even got out of Yarkland, but did not undergo a massacre. When news came of the Kazil and Yangi Hissar massacrs to Kashgar, Su Qinzhou, the Tungan joint Taoyin departed the Old City Yamen to protest the killing of fellow Tungans and joined Ma Chanzeng in Kashgar New City. On May 31st, the Uyghurs of Aksu rose up and expelled the few Muslim Chinese that remained in their Oasis. The Taoyin that had been appointed by Ma Chanzeng and therefore was considered too pro-Tungan was removed from his post and replace by the leader of the Aksu insurgents, a Uyghur named Ismail Beg whose loyalty belongs to the anti-tungan Khotan Amirs.  The fall of Yarkland New City, massacre at Kizil and Yangi Hissar had not just signaled the final collapse of Han Chinese authority in southern Xinjiang, but also the alienation of Chinese speaking Muslims from their Turkic speaking neighbors. By the summer of 1933, the political power struggle in the south was now between the Uyghur and Kirghiz factions led by Amir Muhammad Amin Bughra at Khotan and the Tungan forces of Ma Chanzeng at Kashgar New City. Excluding Ma Chanzeng's forces the struggle over southern Xinjiang was more or less fought between the rival Turkic speaking Muslim factions at Khotan and Kashgar. Following the fall of Yarkland New City on the 26th of May, Temurs representative Hafiz attempted to conciliate with the Khotan Amirs, who were not happy their side got the less impressive rifles when they distributed the loot. Hafiz strengthened his forces then estimated to be 400 Uyghurs from Aksu and Kashfar, by conscripting another 200 Dunlanis from Merket.  Discovering this, the Amirs transferred command over their Yarkland forces to the youngest brother, Nur Ahmad Jan, while Abdullah set out for Kashgar at the head of 2000 Khotanliks. This action seems to be done to place pressure upon Temur. Meanwhile another force of 1000 Khotanliks under the Basmachi Janib Beg arrived at Kashgar on June 11th. Janib Beg's arrival with his poorly armed troops caused uproar amongst the local Turkic speaking leadership and Soviet Consulate General who feared the anti-Soviet Basmachi leader would swing the ongoing revolution to the right. Janib Beg immediately established his HQ at the garden of the Turkic nationals Abd Al-Rahim Bay Bachcha, raising the old spectre of an alliance forming between the Khotan AMirs and YKP, elements of whom were currently in favor of cooperating with the USSR. On July 4th, the Khotanlik presence was substantially increased by the arrival of Amir Abdullah, who brought over Prime Minister Sabit Dammulah and Shaykh al-Islam. Although Abdullahs forces were numerous, they were very ill-equipped. British reports indicate about 300 of them were armed with Russian rifles while another 300 had antiquated muzzle loaders and the rest bore Chumaq or heavy clubs. Nevertheless they posed a threat to both Uthman Ali and Temur, neither of whom sought to share the large stocks of food, money and arms they had looted in Kashgar New City. Temur made an elaborate show of welcoming Abdullah, installing him at the garden between the Old and New Cities pending more suitable arrangements.  Meanwhile at Yarkland, negotiations between Hafiz and Nur Ahmad Jan continued. Hafiz on behalf of Temur claimed territories of the Yarkland River, including Yarkland Old and New City, while Nur Ahmad Jan on behalf of the Khotan Islamic Government countered with claiming Kashgar and Maral Bashi. After a couple of incidents between the two armies, Nur Ahmad Jan took action against a number of Yarkandlik Begs who had petitioned Hafiz to intervene on their behalf. All the offenders were executed with their severed heads and displayed in public to antagonize Hafiz. When news of this reached Temur at Kashgar he was royally pissed and decided to make a move against the Khotanlik forces at Kashgar. Temur sought the support of his Kirghiz ally Uthman Ali, stressing the threat the Amir's would make to his position and bought off numerous other Kirghiz leaders. By mid-July, Uthman and his Kirghiz cavalry prepared to return to the mountains above Kashgar lulling the Khotanlik's into a false sense of security. Then suddenly on the morning of July 13th, Temur sent a force of 750 men to arrest Janib Beg. Abdullah was informed of this and sent 100 of his men to help Janib Beg, but they arrived too late and found themselves likewise arrested.  Following this minor success against Janib Beg, Temur and Thman Ali coordinated their efforts against Abdullah. They managed to corner and arrest him while disarming a large number of his troops. Realizing he was in imminent danger of getting arrested as well, al-islam Sabit Damullah fled for Artush, but was caught and quickly brought back to the Old City Yamen. During these actions casualties were quite light for both sides. On the night of July 13th, Abdullah and Sabit Damullah were placed under house arrest at the gardens, while Janib Beg was kept under close arrest. Now the new balance of power in southern Xinjiang had been held at a conference in Kashgar Old City on July 4th, attended by all the prominent Muslim leaders except Janib Beg and Ma Chanzeng. At the meeting it was agreed that the entire Yarkland Oasis should be transferred to Temurs control, while the Khotan Islamic government would be on the east bank of the Yarkland River. When news of this agreement reached Yarkland however, panic set in amongst the Khotanlik troops who had been ordred to withdraw from Yarkland New City by Hafiz. Hafiz moved quickly to exploit the situation, sending 200 men to hold the ferries across the Yarkland River to cut off the Khotanlik retreat. He arrested Nur Ahmad Jan and disarmed hundreds of his troops in the process. Nur Ahmad Jan was imprisond in Yarkland Old City, just as his brother Abdullah was in Kashgar. Shortly after this, in violation of the agreements made as Kashgar, Hafiz sent his forces across the Yarkland River into the territory of the Khotan government and captured the town of Karghalik on July 20th.  The major reverses of the Khotan Amirs followed closely with the withdrawal of Ma Chanzeng's Tungan forces to Kashgar New City, leaving the victorious Uyghur leader Temur and Kirghiz leader Uthman Ali well placed to expand their political control over the whole of western Tarim Basin. Such a feat could have been possible, if both leaders were capable of cooperating against the besieged Tungans. Uthman Ali, now taking the name Amir Al-Muslimin “prince of the believers” and Ghazi “holy warrior” was keen to attack Ma Chanzeng, whom he had personal quarrels. Temur on the other hand was not keen on full scale war against his former ally. Thus Uthman Ali withdrew from Kashgar to the hills on July 18th. Shortly after his departure, on the 26th a party of Khoja Niyas Hajjis officers, accompanied by 30 Kumullik soldiers arrived at Kashgar and presented Temur with an official seal and letter recognising his position as Commander in Chief of Kashgar. Its alleged, Khoja Niyas Hajji's delegates pressured Temur to attack Ma Chanzeng's forces in Kashgar New City. But Temur still did not want to do so, but agreed to invite Uthman Ali back to Kashgar to possibly perform joint operations against the besieged New City. Uthman Ali came back, but by August 8th, he departed again as Temur proved too reluctant to act. It seems Temur may have seen the situation as an ideal one to eliminate his Kirghiz ally and emerge the sole Turkic speaking Muslim commander in Kashgar. In any case he secretly formed an agreement with Ma Chanzeng and sent a large part of his army to pursue and disarm Uthman Ali and his Kirghiz forces. How Temurs Uyghur irregular infantry would overtake disarming mounted Kirghiz troops is anyone's guess. On August 9th, Temur left Kashgar Old City by car to see how his men were faring. Shortly after a force of 500 Tungans rapidly overran the ill defended Old City. Temur had made a fatal mistake. He was intercepted by Ma Chanzengs men on his way back to the Old City, where he was arrested and shot without ceremony. His head was cut off and placed on a spike outside the Id-gat Mosque in Kashgar Old City. Its like game of thrones in Xinjiang isnt it? As a result of slaying Temur, the Uyghur forces were left leaderless. Both Janib Beg and Abdullah took advantage of the chaos and escaped prison, fleeing southeast towards Yarkland. Ma Shaowu likewise slipped away from his house arrest, fleeing to Ma Chanzeng. The Tungans made zero effort to garrison the Old City, but disarmed and plundered its arsenal. On August 13th, Uthman Ali returned to Kashgar and sent a message to Ma Chanzeng asking his Kirghiz forces be given a share of the weapons taken from Temurs men. Ma Chanzeng refused to comply, so the Kirghiz forces attacked Old city, capturing it easily by the 16th. During the battle Uthman Ali's younger bother Umar was killed alongside 150 Kirghiz when they failed to attack the walls of New City. After taking Old City, Uthman Ali assumed Temurs title as Commander in Chief of the Turkic speaking forces at Kashgar. But he did not enjoy the full support of the Uyghurs and his Kirghiz had no hunger to attack the walls of New City, eager to return to their lands in Tien Shan. Then two new and unexpected things happened. On the 26th of August, a Syrian Arab adventurer named Tawfiq Bay arrived at Kashgar. He was a charismatic character, claiming to be a descendant of the Prophet Muhammad and had served for a time as an official under King Abd Al Aziz ibn-saud and a man who had formal military training and experience. Two days later the representatives of Khoja Niyas Hajji, arrived as a Kumullik delegation. They soon rallied the dispirited Turkic speaking forces in Kashgar Old City and urged them to renew their attack against Ma Chanzeng. Uthman Ali and his Kirghiz forces thus renewed their attack, aided by the Uyghurs who were rallied under Tawfiq Bay.  Meanwhile on the southern front Hafiz had found out about Temurs death, thus he halted his advance against the Khotanlik forces and returned to Yarkland New City. At the same time Abdullah reappeared in Yarkland taking command of the undefended Old City. From this new base he rallied the disorganized Khotanlik forces still in Karghalik and began a siege of Yarkland New City, still held by Hafiz with a mixed force number 600 Uyghurs and Dulanis. Meanwhile both Tawfiq Bay and the representatives of Khoja Niyas Hajji at Kashgar sent messengers to the Amirs stressing the need for joint Turkic actions against the Tungans, and appealed for a cease-fire between Hafiz and Abdullah in Yarkland. On September 26, Yarkland New City opened its gates to the Khotanlik forces of Hafiz and allowed the Uyghurs of Aksu and Kashgar to leave the oasis disarmed, but unharmed. Following this Abdullah assumed control over Yarkland, while Nur Ahmad Jan advanced at the head of a large force to Yangi Hissar to take control over its fortified citadel. The Khotan Islamic government still led by Amir Muhammad Amin Bughra from Khotan was thus extended west to the fringes of Kashgar and upon invitation from Tawfiq Bay, the Khotanlik Prime Minister and Al-Islam Sabit Damullah, negotiated the formation of a unified Turkic speaking Muslim alliance in southern Xinjiang. The alliance was one of necessity as the Tungan forces of Ma Chanzeng were tossing back attacks by the combined forces of Taqfiq Bay and Uthman Ali with ease. On September 7th, the Tungans sortied from New City and devastated their enemy at the village of Sekes Tash, killing 200 Uyghurs and Kirghiz. Tawfiq Bay and Uthman Ali soon received reinforcements, including Hafiz and his 500 troops, 300 additional Uyghur recruits from Aksu under a officer named Idris and a rather mysterious force of 300 Andijani Uzbeks under the command of Satibaldi Jan, a 25 year old Uzbek from Soviet Uzbekistan. With this mixed and ill armed force they all tried to pressure Ma Chanzeng, but it was still to no avail. Attempts to mine the New City walls all ended in failure as did attempts to starve them out. Uthman Ali's Kirghiz and local Uyghurs began to run into conflicts, as the Kirghiz felt they were bearing the brunt of the fighting. Soon some Kirghiz had 3 Uyghurs executed in Old City for “filling cartridges with sand instead of power”. Other Uyghurs were hung publicly outside the Id-gah Mosque for selling food to the besieged Tungans. Support for the siege wavered and by late September morale was so low, the local authorities stopped issuing passports to stop a exodus from the Oasis. Then on the 26th, Tawfiq Bay was seriously injured and could no longer lead from the front. Uthman Ali then resigned from his post as commander in chief on October 2nd in shame, fleeing to the hills, followed closely by Satibaldi and other local leaders. A power vacuum in Kashgar opened up and was filled by Sabit Damullah, the Prime Minister of the Khotan Islamic Government. Thus in the end, with the exception of the Tungans held up in Kashgar New City, the Khotan Amirs now dominated southern Xinjiang. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. In what can only be described as a form of Game of Thrones in Southern Xinjiang, numerous groups fought together, then against each other, then together, until one was king of the hill. The Tungans still clung onto Kashgar New City, but with the Khotan Amirs at the reigns, could they take it all?   

Fönstret är vidöppet och Trent Alexander-Arnold är fortfarande kvar i Liverpool, men hur länge? Dessutom pratar vi försvarsgeneraler, Gyökeres val, Barcas trix, Juventus anfallsjakt och reder ut vem som egentligen är tidernas bästa Uzbek. Med: Makoto Asahara, Patrik Syk och Oskar Kiisk

Last time we spoke about the beginning of the Kumul Rebellion. In 1931, tensions in Kumul escalated after a Muslim girl spurned Han tax collector Chang Mu, leading to his violent death at a family dinner. Enraged, Uyghurs retaliated against Chinese officials, igniting a rebellion. Chaos ensued as rebels targeted Han settlers, ultimately capturing Kumul with little resistance. Amidst the unrest, Yulbars Khan sought support from military leader Ma Chongying, who planned to mobilize his forces to help the Uyghurs. What began as a local incident spiraled into an all-out revolt against oppressive rule. In 1931, young warlord Ma Chongying sought to establish a Muslim empire in Central Asia, leading a small force of Tungan cavalry. As his army attempted to besiege Kumul Old City, they faced fierce resistance from Chinese troops. Despite several assaults, the lack of heavy artillery hampered Ma's progress. Eventually, Ma faced defeat due to a serious injury. After his recuperation, his forces joined with Uyghur insurgents, sparking a guerrilla war against oppressive provincial troops, leading to increasing unrest and rebellion.   #133 Kumul Rebellion part 2: Uprisings in southern Xinjiang Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. So in the last episode we spoke about the beginning of the Kumul Rebellion. Now the Kumul Rebellion is actually a series of other rebellions all interlaced into this larger blanket known as the Xinjiang Wars. To be blunt, Xinjiang was the wild west from the 1930s until basically the formation of the PRC. We briefly went over the various groups that inhabit northwestern China, they all had their own interests. I want to start off by looking at the situation of southern Xinjiang. Back in June of 1924, Ma Fuxing, the T'ai of Kashgar was executed. His executioner was Ma Shaowu who had just received the post of Taoyin over the oasis city of Khotan. There was of course always tension, but southern Xinjiang was relatively peaceful in the 1920s. Then Governor Yang Zengxin was assassinated in July of 1928. During the last years of his rule, southern Xinjiang often referred to as Kashgaria, remained entrenched in the British sphere of influence after the collapse of Tsarist Russia and the subsequent closure of the Imperial Russian consulate-General at Kashgar.  Going further back in time, in August of 1918, Sir Geoerge Macartney, the long standing British Consul General to Kashar had retired. His successor was Colonel P. T Etherton, a hardcore anti-communist who actively was cooperating with anti-Soviet Basmachi guerillas in the western portion of Turkestan. One of his missions was to curb Soviet influence in southern Xinjiang. Yang Zengxin understood the British policy towards Xinjiang was to push the Soviets out via enabling the survival of his independent Han led regime. Thus Yang Zengxin was very friendly to the British and allowed them to exercise considerable political influence in Tien Shan. Despite this Soviet influence spread in Ili and Zungharia. This prompted Yang Zengxin to secretly cooperate with the British in Kashgar to counter the looming red growth north of his province. Now by 1924, through a combination of military necessities and the re-emergence of Soviet Russia as Xinjiang's largest trading partner, this forced Yang Zengxin to push away the British. Following the Sino-Soviet agreement of 1924 which effectively saw the establishment of diplomatic relations between Moscow and Beijing, the Soviet government at Omsk dispatched an envoy to Xinjiang to discuss mutual consular representation. Both sides reached an agreement on October 6th, providing for an exchange of consulate-generals between Tashkent and Urumqi and for Soviet consulates in Chuguchak, Kulja, Shara Sume and Kashgar. The new Soviet presence in Kashgar was quite upsetting for the British. It also allowed the Soviets direct access to the densely populated oases of Tarim Basin, the source of nearly all Xinjiang's revenue.  Shortly after the Soviet Consulate in Kashgar officially opened on October 10, 1925, a local power struggle emerged involving Max Doumpiss, the Soviet Consul, of Latvian origin, Major Gillan, the British Consul-General at that time, and the Taoyin of Kashgar. Sino-Soviet relations in southern Xinjiang took a troubled turn in November 1925 when large quantities of silver bullion were discovered hidden in thirty-four boxes labeled as Soviet 'diplomatic bags,' intended for the Kashgar consulate. The Kashgar Taoyin, who was reportedly offended by the 'subtle spread of Soviet propaganda' in the southern oases, retaliated by expelling several suspected Russian agents. In March 1926, significant riots erupted in Kashgar, which the Chinese authorities attributed to an interpreter at the Soviet Consulate named Akbar 'Ali. The unrest was quelled by a force of 400 local Tungan troops, and Akbar 'Ali was imprisoned; the Taoyin ignored subsequent Soviet demands for his release. The rapid increase in the number of European consular staff from around fifteen in 1925 to between thirty and forty by 1927 also alarmed Chinese officials. All these developments were likely reported to Governor Yang Tseng-hsin in Urumchi, who was likely dealing with similar situations at the newly established Soviet Consulates in Kulja, Chuguchak, and Shara Sume. It appears that, with discreet British support, Yang decided to take actions to curb the expansion of Soviet influence in Kashgar. The Kashgar Taoyin then took up a strong anti-soviet stance. Alongside this Yang Zengxin's nephew, the officer in command of Chinese troops along the Kashgar northern frontier, suddenly became a frequent visitor to the British consulate General at Chini Bagh. After the death of the old Taoyin in 1927, Ma Shaowu came over from Khotan to replace him and with this came heightened anti-soviet policies in southern Xinjiang. Ma Shaowu first began by imprisoning 60 alleged local communists and tightened Chinese control over Kashgars northern frontier. The freedom of the Soviet Consul team to travel within southern Xinjiang was tightened to the extreme and all Kashgar citizens suspected of pro-soviet sympathies became targets for confiscation of their property or deportation to other oases. Yang Zengxin backed Ma Shaowu's attempts to limit Soviet influence in Tarim Basin by imposing severe tax on Muslims leaving southern Xinjiang to go on Hajj via the USSR. Similarly, new legislative was unleashed requiring merchants going into the USSR to deposit large sums of money to the Chinese authorities in Kashgar who would forfeit if the depositor failed to return to Xinjiang within 60 days.  These policies did not completely insulate southern Xinjiang from Soviet influence; however, they did ensure that at the time of Yang Zengxin's assassination in 1928, the southern region of the province—especially Ma Shao-wu's domain around Kashgar, Yarkand, and Khotan—maintained a significant degree of independence from the Soviet Union. This stood in stark contrast to areas like the Ili Valley, Chuguchak, and Shara Sume, where Soviet influence became dominant shortly after 1925, and even to the provincial capital of Urumqi, where, by the spring of 1928, the Soviet Consul-General had considerable sway. It was likely due to Ma Shaowu's anti-Soviet position and the persistent dominance of British influence in southern Xinjiang during the final years of Yang Zengxin's administration that Kashgar emerged as a hub of conservative Muslim opposition to Chinese governance in the 1930s. Yang Zengxins intentional efforts to sever southern Xinjiang from Soviet influence resulted in the Uighurs and, to a lesser extent, the Kirghiz of the Tarim Basin being less influenced by the 'progressive' nationalist propaganda from Soviet-controlled Western Turkestan compared to the Turkic-speaking Muslims of the Ili Valley and Zungharia. This is not to imply that the socialist nationalism promoted by the Jadidists after 1917 was entirely ineffective south of the Tien Shan; however, Kashgar, situated outside the Soviet zone in northwestern Sinkiang, became a natural refuge for right-wing Turkic nationalists and Islamic traditionalists who opposed Chinese authority yet were even more fiercely against the encroachment of 'atheistic communism' and its Soviet supporters in Central Asia. Many of these right-wing Turkic-speaking nationalists were former Basmachi guerrillas, primarily of Uzbek, Kazakh, and Kirghiz descent, but also included several Ottoman Turks and, according to Caroe, "old men who had fought against the Chinese at Kashgar." Among the most notable Basmachi leaders who sought refuge in Kashgar was Janib Beg, a Kirghiz who would play a significant role in the politics of southern xinjiang during the early 1930s. Following Yang Zengxin's assassination in July 1928, Soviet influence in southern Xinjiang began to grow rapidly; nevertheless, at the onset of the Kumul Rebellion in 1931, reports of forced collectivization and the suppression of nomadic lifestyles in Western Turkestan led many Turkic Muslims in southern Xinjiang to be wary of Soviet intentions. If, during the late 1920s and early 1930's, the Turkic Muslims of southern Xinjiang were divided in their approach towards the Soviets and the newly formed Turkic-Tajik SSR's in western Turkestan, they all were united in their attitude towards their Tungan brethren to the east. Unlike the Turkic Muslim rebels of Kumul, the Uyghurs and Kirghiz of southern Xinjiang were far too distant from Gansu to appeal for assistance from the Tungan warlords, such as the 5 Ma Clique. Besides the Han Chinese officials, rule over the oases of Tarim Basin had long been held by Tungans. Ma Fuxing, the Titai of Kashgar had ruthlessly exploited his Turkic Muslim subjects between 1916-1924. He himself was a Hui Muslim from Yunnan, as was Ma Shaowu. The Turkic Muslims of southern Xinjiang therefore had zero illusions of any “muslim brotherhood” with their Tungan brethren. It was Tungan troops who intervened to suppress any demonstration against Chinese rule. The Tungans of Tarim Basin were allies to the Han Chinese administration and thus enemies to the Turkic Muslim peoples. The western rim of Tarim Basin was in a unique political situation during the later half of Yang Zengxins rule as a large part of its Turkic Muslim population looked neither to the progressive Muslim leadership of western Turkestan nor the Tungan warlords of Gansu. Instead they looked at the regimes in Turkey and Afghanistans, both quite conservative. Contacts in these places were sparse ever since the Qing reconquest of Xinjiang. After the defeat of the Ottoman Empire in WW1, contact ceased to exist at all. Emotional links to what once was however lingerd, and the nationalist revolution of Ataturk sprang something of a Turkish renaissance inspiring Turkic peoples from Crimea to Kumul.  As for Afghanistan, there existed more concrete religious and political contacts with southern Xinjiang. In 1919, Amir Aman Allah, the last Muhammadzay ruler of Afghanistan had taken the throne after the death of his father. He became an impetuous ruler who brought forth his own downfall through a series of radical reforms that caused a revolution by 1928. Yet in his first years of rule he had widespread support of Muslim peoples in central asia, especially after he began the Third Afghan war against Britain, combined with a Jihad for Afghan independence. Because of this the British were forced to recognize Afghanistan's right to independent foreign policy. During this period, it is rumored Amir Aman Allah had toyed with the idea of forming an Islamic Confederacy which would have included Afghanistan, Bukhara, Khiva and Khokand. He would have also been interested in influence over Xinjiang where numerous Afghan merchants resided under British protection. Following Britains recognition of Afghanistan's right to independent foreign policy, with the 1919 treaty of Peshawar, British diplomatic protection for Afghan citizens in Xinjiang was lifted. Amir Aman Allah then established independent diplomatic links between Kabul and Urumqi, sending a delegation in 1922 led by Muhammad Sharif Khan. The Chinese officials regarded the Afghan mission as a trade delegation, but Muhammad Sharif Khan carried with him printed visiting cards styling himself as Afghanistan's Consul-General in Xinjiang. Alongside this he brought draft agreements demanding full extraterritorial rights and other privileges for Afghan subjects in Xinjiang and the right to import opium freely into the province. It is to no surprise Yang Zengxin refused to recognize the mission causing a dispute that would drag on for years. It became a long standing issue for th Turkic speaking Muslims of southern Xinjiang. There were many who looked to Afghanistan to help them against Chinese oppression. Now getting back to our timeline, with the initial outbreak of the Kumul Rebellion and the Tungan invasion, Jin Shujen had made every effort to prevent news of these events occurring mostly in the northeast from getting into the south. But of course one cannot stop the flow of information completely. Rumors and reports of the rebellious activities northeast flooded into the oases of Tarim Basin, invigorating anti-Chinese zeal, from peoples already suffering from increased taxation and inflation caused by unbacked paper currency paying for Jin's war efforts. Jin was well aware of the discontent south in his province, but he was emboldened by his victory of Ma Chongying as well as the recent delivery of 4000 rifles and 4 million rounds of ammunition from British held India. Thus he determined to maintain his current stance. It would prove to be a very fateful decision. The Kumul Rebellion was not crushed by any means. In fact the brutality following the relief of Kumul Old City caused outrage amongst the Turkic speaking peoples and sent refugees westwards towards Turfan. By May of 1932, Ma Chongying had dispatched a young Tungan Lt, Ma Shihming to take command over his Tungan forces remaining in Xinjiang. Ma Shihming quickly established his HQ in Turfan and began to cooperate with the Turkic speaking Muslim insurgents who owed their allegiance to Yulbars Khan and Khoja Niyas Haiji. It's also believed he made contact with Ma Fuming, a Tungan officer in command of the Xinjiang provincial forces at Turfan.  By mere coincidence, in May of 1932, Jin had also elected to seek revenge against Tsetsen Puntsag Gegeen, the Torgut Mongol regent inhabiting Tien Shan. That same guy he had asked for military aid from who simply took his army away. Tsetsen Puntsag Gegeen was invited to come back to Urumqi where he was to attend an investigation into the assassination plot laid against him. On May 21st, shortly after his arrival, he alongside two Torgut officers and the young Torgut Prince were all invited to an official banquet at Jin Shujens yamen. Now you might be thinking, who in their right mind would fall for that shit? Especially given the Yang Zengxin banquet story. Well according to R.P Watts, the British Vice Consul General at Kashgar who happened to be in Urumqi at the time. “While drinking the usual preliminary cup of tea the regent and the two military officers were led out into a courtyard and executed. According to Chinese custom in such matters proper observance was accorded to the high rank of regent even at the moment of execution. A red carpet was spread on the ground on which he was invited to seat himself. He was then killed by being shot through the head from behind by one of the governor's special executioners. His two companions being men of inferior rank were not given the privilege of a red carpet to sit on whilst being executed.”  The young Torgut prince was allowed to return to Kara Shahr, man that must have been an awkward desert. So Jin hoped the harsh action would terrify the young prince into submission. As you may have guessed, Jin actions were quite toxic for the Torgut Mongols. Might I add the Torgut Mongols were probably the only non Chinese group in Xinjiang that may have sided with Jin against the Turkic peoples? So to tally up things a bit here. Jin pissed off the Uyghurs and Tungans of Turfan, the Kirghiz of Tian Shan and now the Torguts.  In early 1932, Turkic Muslim opposition to forced collectivization and suppression of nomadism by Stalin in the Kazakh and Kirghiz regions of Soviet Central Asia, saw many spill over into Xinjiang. By March of 1932, large numbers of Kirghiz fled the border and were pursued by Soviet forces. A series of skirmishes and raids broke out in the border region. The Soviet Kirghiz naturally received aid from the Xinjiang Kirghiz and in June a Chinese official was killed by Kirghiz insurgents in Tien Shan. The Chinese were outraged, prompting Ma Shaowu to unleash 300 troops from Kashgar New City and 200 troops from Kashgar Old City to defend the frontier area. These units were soon joined by another 100 troops from Opal and 200 from Uch Turfan all under the leadership of Brigadier Yang, the nephew to the late Yang Zengxin. In July Yang's men began joint operations with the Soviets against the Kirghiz insurgents who were led by Id Mirab. The Chinese forces were said to quote “The Chinese forces had been suffering badly from want of opium', and reportedly behaved very badly towards Kirghiz, a number of whom were driven to take refuge in Russian territory”. To try a force the submission of the Kirghiz, Yang's forces took 70 hostages from Kirghiz families and brought them to imprisoned them the oases of Khotan, Keriya and Charchan. Thus Jin and Ma Shaowu had succeeded within a few months of Ma Chongyings withdrawal back into Gansu in both alienating the Turkic speaking and Mongol nomads of Tien Shan. The Sino-Soviet cooperation against the Kirghiz had also not gone unnoticed by other Muslim groups.  Meanwhile the Kumul Rebellion had spread westwards. By Autumn of 1932, months after the arrival of Ma Shihming to Turfan, Ma Fuming joined the rebels cause. Wu Aichen wrote it was his belief that Ma Fuming's decision was based on the continuing flow of Muslim refugees from Kumul to Turfan combined with reports of mass executions being carried out by Xing Fayu. But like I had mentioned, there is also strong evidence Ma Shihming probably negotiated an alliance with Ma Fuming. Wu Aichen wrote Ma Fumings first rebellious action was to send a telegram to Jin requesting he dispatch reinforcements while he also sent a letter to Xing Fayu over in Kumul to come quickly to Turfan. The reinforcements arrived at the oasis without suspecting a thing and were “shot down to the last man” by Ma Fumings forces as they passed the city gates. A few days later another detachment of 100 men led by Xing Fayu reached Turfan only to suffer the same fate. Xing Fayu was taken captive and “tortured to death in public with every refinement of cruelty and vileness of method”. Following Ma Fumings official defection, the Turfan Depression quickly emerged as the main center of Muslim rebellion in northeastern Xinjiang. Kumul which had been laid to ruin by Jin was abandoned to the Turkic Muslim insurgents and a handful of Tungan troops. A large portion of Tungan forces consisting of those following Ma Fuming and Ma Sushiming massed at Turfan preparing to march upon Urumqi, lying 100 miles northwest. The storm brewing in Turfan was followed up by a series of uncoordinated uprisings amongst the Turkic speaking Muslims of southern Xinjiang. The Uyghurs of Tarim Basin and Kirghiz of Tien Shan realized Jin's grip over the province was weakening and the presence of Tungan forces in Turfan effectively cut off the oases of the south from Urumqi and Jin's White Russian troops, whom otherwise may have scared them into submission. The White Russians and other provincial forces were hard pressed by Ma Fuming and Ma Shihming. Reports also spread that Ma Chongying would soon re-enter the fray in person and that Chang Peiyuan, the Military commander over at Ili had fallen out with Jin. Thus the Turkic speaking Muslims of southern Xinjiang knew the time was ripe to rebel against Chinese rule. In the winter uprising began at Pichan, just east of Turfan and at Kara Shahr about 175 miles southwest. Lack of Torgut support at Kara Shahr following the murder of Tsetsen Puntsag Gegeen basically sealed the fate of the Chinese forces within the city. The new Tungan leader, Ma Chanzeng emerged the commander of rebel forces in the region. Disregarding the increasingly intense conflict between Ma Shih-ming and the provincial forces along the Turfan-Urumqi road, Ma Chan-ts'ang moved westward, seizing Bugur in early February and progressing to Kucha. There, he formed a strategic alliance with Temiir, the local Uyghur leader, who was noted by Wu Aichen as "a capable individual who had managed the mule wagon service." After occupying Kucha without any resistance, the combined forces of Ma Chanzeng and Temiir continued their advance toward Aksu, capturing the small town of Bai along the way. Ma Shaowu was the Taoyin of Kashgar and second most powerful official in the provincial administration after Jin, thus found himself cut off from Urumqi by two separate armies of Muslim rebels each composed of Tungan and Turkic factions. One of these armies held a small but militarily competent Tungan force led by Ma Chanzeng with a large contingent of poorly armed Uyghur peasants owing their allegiance to Temur. This force advanced southwest towards Aksu, while the other army consisting of a loose coalition of competent Tungan troops under Ma Shihming and Ma Fuming with Turkic speaking Muslim peasants owing allegiance to Khoja Niyas Haiji and Yulbars Khan pressed their attack directly upon Urumqi. In February of 1933 to add further confusion in the south, the rebellion against the Chinese spread southwards across the Tarim Basin to its southern rim. Uprising against the Chinese administration broke out simultaneously amongst the gold miners of the southern oases who had long resented the provincial governments fixed rate for the purchase of gold in Xinjiang alongside brutal working conditions. The spiraling inflation from Jin's worthless currency which was used to pay for the gold only made things worse. By spring their patience had run out, the Uyghurs led by Ismail Khan Khoja seized control of Kara Kash killing a large number of Han Chinese. Meanwhile the Uyghurs at Keriya seized control over the Surghak mines and threatened to take control over the whole oasis. Prominent rebel demands included a fair price for gold and silver and prohibition of the purchase of precious metals with paper currency. More urgent demands were lowering taxes, ending government tyranny, introducing Shari a law and stationing Muslim troops in every city. Now these demands were very real, they were willing to stand down if they were met. One anonymous writer of the demand notices placed at Karakash was as follows “A friend for the sake of friendship will make known a friend's defects and save him from the consequences of his defects. You, who are supposed to rule, cannot even realize this, but try to seek out the supporter of Islam to kill him. Foolish infidels like you are not fit to rule ... How can an infidel, who cannot distinguish between a friend and a foe, be fit to rule? You infidels think that because you have rifles, guns ... and money, you can depend on them; but we depend upon God in whose hands are our lives. You infidels think that you will take our lives. If you do not send a reply to this notice we are ready. If we die we are martyrs. If we survive we are conquerors. We are living but long for death”. Ma Shaowu elected to first move against the Muslim insurgents threatening Aksu, most likely reasoning that if Ma Chanzeng and Temur were defeated the weaker rebel forces at KaraKash and Surghak would just crumble. There also was the fact Ma Shihmings men at Turfan had severed the telegraph line between Urumqi and Kashgar, and that line had been re-routed via Aksu, but if Aksu fell to the rebels, communications with the capital would only be possible via the USSR. At this point its estimated Brigadier Yang had a mixed army of 280 cavalry and 150 infantry as he set out for Aksu on February 6th. Ma Shaowu's position was not good. On February 9th, Jin Shujen's younger brother, Jin Shuqi the commander in chief at Kashgar New City suddenly died of illness. He was replaced with a Chinese officer called Liu who took command of his three detachments of cavalry, about 480 men and a single detachment of artillery, about 160 men. Ma Shaowu held control over two regiments of cavalry, 700 men and 3 detachments of infantry, around 300 men all stationed at Kashgar Old City. In mid february reports reached Kashgar that Brigadier Yang was heavily outnumbered by the rebels under Ma Chanzeng and Temur and had fallen back from Aksu to a defensive line at Maral Bashi. On the 23rd celebrations were held at Kashgar to mark Jin handing Ma Shadowu the new title of Special Commissioner for the Suppression of Bandits. During the celebration, salutes were fired at the yamen and KMT flags were flown from buildings throughout the city. Afterwards all of Liu's forces were sent to Maral Bashi to bolster Yang.  Now in a bid to suppress the uprisings at Surghak and KaraKash before a full scale uprising could develop on the southern road, 200 men led by Colonel Li were dispatched to Khotan, while another force under Colonel Chin was dispatched to Yarkland. Because of these movements of troops to Khotan and Maral Bashi, there was a serious depletion of defenders for Kashgar. Thus Ma Shaowu ordered a raising of Kirghiz levies and recalled some Chinese troops from the frontier districts west of Kashgar. Thus the Chinese garrison at Sarikol pulled out to Kashgar, leaving the region's Tajik population to their own devices. At Kashgar, troops posted on the walls of both cities had strict orders to close all gates at 7pm, with major curfew laws set into place.Despite all of this the provincial troops proved very inept at stemming the rebel advance along both the north and south roads into Kashgar. On the 25th, the rebels entered Aksu Old City, shooting up all its Chinese residents, seized their property, stormed the arsenal and looted the treasury. Later on Ma Changzeng and Temur led an estimated 4700 ill armed Uyghur irregular army to advance on Maral Bashi and Kashgar.  In the Keriya, the Chinese officials consented to convert to Islam and to surrender their possessions; however, on March 3, thirty-five Chinese individuals, including top officials, were executed, with their heads displayed in the marketplace. On February 28, the Old City of Khotan fell into the hands of rebels with little resistance, while the New City of Khotan was besieged before capitulating to the insurgents on March 16th. Following the rebel successes in Khotan, it was reported that 266 Han Chinese converted to Islam, and both the treasury and arsenal of the New City—containing "thousands of weapons and nearly a ton of gold"—were seized by the insurgents. Additionally, uprisings led by a Uighur named ‘Abd ai-Qadir took place in Chira, and in Shamba Bazaar, several Han Chinese and two Hindu moneylenders were killed. Further afield from Keriya, the town of Niya succumbed to the rebel forces from Khotan, while even farther east, at the isolated oases of Charchan and Charkhlik, reports indicate that peaceful insurrections occurred after a small Tungan contingent loyal to Ma Shih-ming entered the region via a little-used desert route connecting Kara Shahr and Lop. Meanwhile, to the west of Khotan, Uighur forces under Isma'il Khan Khoja obstructed the main route to Yarkand at the Tokhta Langar caravanserai, repelling all but two delegates sent from Kashgar by Ma Shao-wu, who aimed to negotiate with the rebel leaders in Khotan. No further news was received from the two Begs allowed to continue to Khotan, and with their diplomatic mission's failure, the entire southern route from the eastern outskirts of the Guma oasis to the distant Lop Nor fell out of Chinese control. To fortify their position against potential counterattacks from Kashgar, the rebel leaders in Khotan destroyed roadside wells in the desert east of Guma and began establishing a clearly Islamic governance in the areas they had liberated. By mid March, Ma Shaowu's control over southern Xinjiang was limited to just a wedge of territory around Kashgar, Maral Bashi and Yarkland. Moral was so low, Ma Shaowu asked the British Indian government for military assistance as it seemed apparent no help would come from Urumqi. Ma Shaowu had received 3 telegrams from Jin via the USSR lines; the first confirmed his position as Commander in Chief; the second relayed Jin's brothers death and the third directed Jin Kashgar representatives to remit a large sum of money to his personal bank account in Tientsin. That last signal must have been a banger to read. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The Kumul Rebellion quicked off a storm of different groups' grievances and Jin Shujen did a banger job of pissing off…pretty much every single group. In the southern portions of Xinjiang massive uprisings began and it seemed a tidal wave would hit the entire province.  

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv Son appeals for lost Rolex watch after Dad dies at West Ham match Chris Mason Elon Musk donation talks with Reform UK raise questions over rules Igor Kirillov Russia detains Uzbek man over generals killing Holly Bowles Father of teen who died in Laos poisonings tells BBC she was full of life Rebel rule in Idlib hints at what the rest of Syria can expect Pensioners could miss out on Winter Fuel Payment this year JLR whistleblower sacked for publishing concerns about VinFast cars UK inflation rate rises for second month in a row Grace Dent to replace Gregg Wallace on Celebrity MasterChef Andrew Tate Police can seize more than 2m from Tate brothers, court rules

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv Andrew Tate Police can seize more than 2m from Tate brothers, court rules Grace Dent to replace Gregg Wallace on Celebrity MasterChef Igor Kirillov Russia detains Uzbek man over generals killing Pensioners could miss out on Winter Fuel Payment this year Rebel rule in Idlib hints at what the rest of Syria can expect UK inflation rate rises for second month in a row Son appeals for lost Rolex watch after Dad dies at West Ham match Holly Bowles Father of teen who died in Laos poisonings tells BBC she was full of life Chris Mason Elon Musk donation talks with Reform UK raise questions over rules JLR whistleblower sacked for publishing concerns about VinFast cars

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv Grace Dent to replace Gregg Wallace on Celebrity MasterChef Andrew Tate Police can seize more than 2m from Tate brothers, court rules UK inflation rate rises for second month in a row JLR whistleblower sacked for publishing concerns about VinFast cars Rebel rule in Idlib hints at what the rest of Syria can expect Son appeals for lost Rolex watch after Dad dies at West Ham match Chris Mason Elon Musk donation talks with Reform UK raise questions over rules Igor Kirillov Russia detains Uzbek man over generals killing Pensioners could miss out on Winter Fuel Payment this year Holly Bowles Father of teen who died in Laos poisonings tells BBC she was full of life

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv Chris Mason Elon Musk donation talks with Reform UK raise questions over rules Igor Kirillov Russia detains Uzbek man over generals killing JLR whistleblower sacked for publishing concerns about VinFast cars Andrew Tate Police can seize more than 2m from Tate brothers, court rules Rebel rule in Idlib hints at what the rest of Syria can expect Pensioners could miss out on Winter Fuel Payment this year Son appeals for lost Rolex watch after Dad dies at West Ham match Holly Bowles Father of teen who died in Laos poisonings tells BBC she was full of life Grace Dent to replace Gregg Wallace on Celebrity MasterChef UK inflation rate rises for second month in a row

Russia has detained an Uzbek man suspected of assassinating an army general. Russia says the suspect was recruited by Ukraine. Also: The UN warns Syria is unable to cope with large numbers of refugees returning home.

The killing in the heart of Moscow of his general in charge of chemical weapons comes on the eve of the Russian president's traditional marathon end-of-year press conference. Putin's so far yet to comment on his country's precipitated drawdown from Syria after the fall of Assad but he's sure to opine on the death of under-sanctions general Igor Kirillov, what with the arrest of an Uzbek suspect who's confessed to working for Ukraine. Russia may seem exposed and weak, but time's not on Volodymyr Zelenskiy's side. The Ukrainian president's making the rounds at Nato headquarters as the Alliance prepares for the return of a Donald Trump who's talked up a deal to end the war one that could redraw national boundaries in Moscow's favor. Simply put, which is weaker a Ukraine exhausted by a decade of fighting or a Russia that's had to pivot to a wartime economy and still ask for Iranian drones and North Korean reinforcements? In the middle, there's Europe… divided over how much it's going to have to invest in assistance and defense spending for what lies ahead. Produced by Rebecca Gnignati, Elisa Amiri and Ilayda Habip.

AP correspondent Charles de Ledesma reports on Russia detaining an Uzbek in a general's killing; expectations of death in the Vanuatu earthquake; and U.N. calls for nations to respect Syria's poltical integrity.

ഞങ്ങൾ മരണവുമായി കളിക്കുന്നവരാണ് . ഞങ്ങൾ ഉരുക്കിന്റെ ഹൃദയമുള്ളവർ ..... ഉസ്ബെകിസ്താനിലെ പുരാതനനഗരമായ ഖ്ഹിവയിൽ നിന്നും മറ്റൊരു ചരിത്രനഗരമായ ബുഖാരയിലേക്ക് ടാക്സിയിൽ യാത്രചെയ്തപ്പോൾ കേട്ട ഗാനമാണിത് . ആ ഗാനത്തെക്കുറിച്ചാണ് ഈ പോഡ്‌കാസ്റ്റ് . ടെദ്ഹാൻ ഹസൻ എന്ന ആൾ പാടിയ ഒരു ഉസ്ബെക് ദേശാഭിമാന ഗാനമാണിത് . ഞങ്ങളുടെ ഡ്രൈവർ ദേശാഭിമാനപ്രചോദിതമായി, സ്റ്റിയറിങ്ങിൽ താളമിട്ട്, ഹസനോടൊപ്പം പാടുന്നുണ്ടായിരുന്നു ... 'കാദി൦ അസ്സൽ അസ്സൽദാൻ, കാദി൦ അസ്സൽ അസ്സൽദാൻ'. പാട്ടിൽ ഇങ്ങനെ പറയുന്നു ' വിജയശ്രീലാളിതമായ ഒരു ഭൂതകാലത്തിൻ്റെ യശസ്സാണിത്. തുർക്കിസ്താന്റെ തിമൂർ , ഉലുഗ് ബെക് , ബാബർ , ചെങ്കിസ് ഖാൻ ... ഞങ്ങൾ മരണവുമായി കളിക്കുന്നവരാണ്' ആ പാട്ടിൻ്റെ പോഡ്‌കാസ്റ്റ് അനുഭവത്തിലേക്ക് സ്വാഗതം. ഗാനവും പൂർണ്ണമായി ഉൾപ്പെടുത്തിയിരിക്കുന്നു . (From the Archives of Dilli Dali Podcast) സ്നേഹപൂർവ്വം എസ് . ഗോപാലകൃഷ്ണൻ

At the height of literary nationalisms in the twentieth century, leftist internationalists from Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, India, and the Soviet East bonded over their shared love of the classical Persian verses of Hafiz and Khayyam. At writers' congresses and in communist literary journals, they affirmed their friendship and solidarity with lyric ghazals and ruba'iyat. Persianate poetry became the cultural commons for a distinctively Eastern internationalism, shaping national literatures in the Soviet Union, the Middle East, and South Asia. By the early Cold War, the literary entanglement between Persianate culture and communism had established models for cultural decolonization that would ultimately outlast the Soviet imperial project. In the archive of literature produced under communism in Persian, Tajik, Dari, Turkish, Uzbek, Azerbaijani, Armenian, and Russian, this book finds a vital alternative to Western globalized world literature. Samuel Hodgkin is Assistant Professor of Comparative Literature at Yale University. His articles have appeared in Comparative Literature Studies, Iranian Studies, Philological Encounters, Cahiers de Studia Iranica, and Cahiers d'Asie centrale.  Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

At the height of literary nationalisms in the twentieth century, leftist internationalists from Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, India, and the Soviet East bonded over their shared love of the classical Persian verses of Hafiz and Khayyam. At writers' congresses and in communist literary journals, they affirmed their friendship and solidarity with lyric ghazals and ruba'iyat. Persianate poetry became the cultural commons for a distinctively Eastern internationalism, shaping national literatures in the Soviet Union, the Middle East, and South Asia. By the early Cold War, the literary entanglement between Persianate culture and communism had established models for cultural decolonization that would ultimately outlast the Soviet imperial project. In the archive of literature produced under communism in Persian, Tajik, Dari, Turkish, Uzbek, Azerbaijani, Armenian, and Russian, this book finds a vital alternative to Western globalized world literature. Samuel Hodgkin is Assistant Professor of Comparative Literature at Yale University. His articles have appeared in Comparative Literature Studies, Iranian Studies, Philological Encounters, Cahiers de Studia Iranica, and Cahiers d'Asie centrale.  Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/literary-studies

At the height of literary nationalisms in the twentieth century, leftist internationalists from Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, India, and the Soviet East bonded over their shared love of the classical Persian verses of Hafiz and Khayyam. At writers' congresses and in communist literary journals, they affirmed their friendship and solidarity with lyric ghazals and ruba'iyat. Persianate poetry became the cultural commons for a distinctively Eastern internationalism, shaping national literatures in the Soviet Union, the Middle East, and South Asia. By the early Cold War, the literary entanglement between Persianate culture and communism had established models for cultural decolonization that would ultimately outlast the Soviet imperial project. In the archive of literature produced under communism in Persian, Tajik, Dari, Turkish, Uzbek, Azerbaijani, Armenian, and Russian, this book finds a vital alternative to Western globalized world literature. Samuel Hodgkin is Assistant Professor of Comparative Literature at Yale University. His articles have appeared in Comparative Literature Studies, Iranian Studies, Philological Encounters, Cahiers de Studia Iranica, and Cahiers d'Asie centrale.  Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/central-asian-studies

At the height of literary nationalisms in the twentieth century, leftist internationalists from Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, India, and the Soviet East bonded over their shared love of the classical Persian verses of Hafiz and Khayyam. At writers' congresses and in communist literary journals, they affirmed their friendship and solidarity with lyric ghazals and ruba'iyat. Persianate poetry became the cultural commons for a distinctively Eastern internationalism, shaping national literatures in the Soviet Union, the Middle East, and South Asia. By the early Cold War, the literary entanglement between Persianate culture and communism had established models for cultural decolonization that would ultimately outlast the Soviet imperial project. In the archive of literature produced under communism in Persian, Tajik, Dari, Turkish, Uzbek, Azerbaijani, Armenian, and Russian, this book finds a vital alternative to Western globalized world literature. Samuel Hodgkin is Assistant Professor of Comparative Literature at Yale University. His articles have appeared in Comparative Literature Studies, Iranian Studies, Philological Encounters, Cahiers de Studia Iranica, and Cahiers d'Asie centrale.  Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/middle-eastern-studies

At the height of literary nationalisms in the twentieth century, leftist internationalists from Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, India, and the Soviet East bonded over their shared love of the classical Persian verses of Hafiz and Khayyam. At writers' congresses and in communist literary journals, they affirmed their friendship and solidarity with lyric ghazals and ruba'iyat. Persianate poetry became the cultural commons for a distinctively Eastern internationalism, shaping national literatures in the Soviet Union, the Middle East, and South Asia. By the early Cold War, the literary entanglement between Persianate culture and communism had established models for cultural decolonization that would ultimately outlast the Soviet imperial project. In the archive of literature produced under communism in Persian, Tajik, Dari, Turkish, Uzbek, Azerbaijani, Armenian, and Russian, this book finds a vital alternative to Western globalized world literature. Samuel Hodgkin is Assistant Professor of Comparative Literature at Yale University. His articles have appeared in Comparative Literature Studies, Iranian Studies, Philological Encounters, Cahiers de Studia Iranica, and Cahiers d'Asie centrale.  Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/russian-studies

At the height of literary nationalisms in the twentieth century, leftist internationalists from Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, India, and the Soviet East bonded over their shared love of the classical Persian verses of Hafiz and Khayyam. At writers' congresses and in communist literary journals, they affirmed their friendship and solidarity with lyric ghazals and ruba'iyat. Persianate poetry became the cultural commons for a distinctively Eastern internationalism, shaping national literatures in the Soviet Union, the Middle East, and South Asia. By the early Cold War, the literary entanglement between Persianate culture and communism had established models for cultural decolonization that would ultimately outlast the Soviet imperial project. In the archive of literature produced under communism in Persian, Tajik, Dari, Turkish, Uzbek, Azerbaijani, Armenian, and Russian, this book finds a vital alternative to Western globalized world literature. Samuel Hodgkin is Assistant Professor of Comparative Literature at Yale University. His articles have appeared in Comparative Literature Studies, Iranian Studies, Philological Encounters, Cahiers de Studia Iranica, and Cahiers d'Asie centrale.  Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/intellectual-history

At the height of literary nationalisms in the twentieth century, leftist internationalists from Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, India, and the Soviet East bonded over their shared love of the classical Persian verses of Hafiz and Khayyam. At writers' congresses and in communist literary journals, they affirmed their friendship and solidarity with lyric ghazals and ruba'iyat. Persianate poetry became the cultural commons for a distinctively Eastern internationalism, shaping national literatures in the Soviet Union, the Middle East, and South Asia. By the early Cold War, the literary entanglement between Persianate culture and communism had established models for cultural decolonization that would ultimately outlast the Soviet imperial project. In the archive of literature produced under communism in Persian, Tajik, Dari, Turkish, Uzbek, Azerbaijani, Armenian, and Russian, this book finds a vital alternative to Western globalized world literature. Samuel Hodgkin is Assistant Professor of Comparative Literature at Yale University. His articles have appeared in Comparative Literature Studies, Iranian Studies, Philological Encounters, Cahiers de Studia Iranica, and Cahiers d'Asie centrale.  Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/south-asian-studies

At the height of literary nationalisms in the twentieth century, leftist internationalists from Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, India, and the Soviet East bonded over their shared love of the classical Persian verses of Hafiz and Khayyam. At writers' congresses and in communist literary journals, they affirmed their friendship and solidarity with lyric ghazals and ruba'iyat. Persianate poetry became the cultural commons for a distinctively Eastern internationalism, shaping national literatures in the Soviet Union, the Middle East, and South Asia. By the early Cold War, the literary entanglement between Persianate culture and communism had established models for cultural decolonization that would ultimately outlast the Soviet imperial project. In the archive of literature produced under communism in Persian, Tajik, Dari, Turkish, Uzbek, Azerbaijani, Armenian, and Russian, this book finds a vital alternative to Western globalized world literature. Samuel Hodgkin is Assistant Professor of Comparative Literature at Yale University. His articles have appeared in Comparative Literature Studies, Iranian Studies, Philological Encounters, Cahiers de Studia Iranica, and Cahiers d'Asie centrale.  Morteza Hajizadeh is a Ph.D. graduate in English from the University of Auckland in New Zealand. His research interests are Cultural Studies; Critical Theory; Environmental History; Medieval (Intellectual) History; Gothic Studies; 18th and 19th Century British Literature. YouTube channel. Twitter.

Turkey is positioning itself as a key player in efforts to secure a Gaza ceasefire, despite its close ties with Hamas, which have drawn criticism from Washington. Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has vowed to "make every contribution" to end what he called the "massacre" in Gaza. US President Joe Biden signalled this week that Turkey could have a role in mediating peace in the Middle East."The United States will make another push with Turkey, Egypt, Qatar, Israel and others to achieve a ceasefire in Gaza," Biden told reporters.However, US officials have downplayed Turkey's mediating role due to Ankara's ties to Hamas."We don't believe the leaders of a vicious terrorist organisation should be living comfortably anywhere, and that certainly includes in ... a major city of one of our key allies and partners," US State Department spokesman Matthew Miller said earlier.Hamas tensionsHamas leaders reportedly relocated to Turkey after the collapse of ceasefire efforts in November.Erdogan, a staunch supporter of Hamas, has described the group as a "liberation movement". Following the assassination of Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh, Erdogan declared a national day of mourning."There are rumours, and I don't know how true they are, that many of those people have actually received Turkish citizenship as well," Soli Ozel, a lecturer at the Institute for Human Studies in Vienna told RFI.In a move seen as an attempt to placate Washington, Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan stated that there are no plans for Hamas to open a political bureau in Turkey.Turkish presidential adviser Mesut Casin defended the policy: "Ankara will continue its position hosting Hamas number one. Number two, they will continue dialogue with Hamas in order to establish peace".Turkish President Erdogan ready to rekindle friendship with TrumpComplex tiesDespite tensions between Turkey and Israel, they maintain back-channel communication.In November, the head of Israel's intelligence agency Shin Bet met his Turkish counterpart in Ankara. The meeting reportedly centred on the plight of Israeli hostages held by Hamas."We have 101 hostages that are still, we don't know their fate," says Gallia Lindenstrauss, an Israeli foreign policy specialist at the Institute for National Security Studies."There are attempts to at least receive information about who's alive, who's dead, who's holding them – Hamas or Islamic Jihad."Lindenstrauss cautioned that Israel remains sceptical of Turkey's ability to act as a neutral mediator."It would be very hard for Israel in general and specifically Prime Minister Netanyahu to trust Turkey to be a mediator that will be respectful to both sides," she said.While Erdogan's public rhetoric often inflames tensions, analysts say Turkish-Israeli relations are shaped more by pragmatism than politics."Turkey and Israel have one way of dealing with one another in public and another way of dealing with one another diplomatically and in security cooperation," Ozel explains.In a possible effort to build trust, Turkish authorities recently extradited three Uzbek suspects linked to the murder of an Israeli rabbi in the United Arab Emirates.Egypt and Turkey's closer ties spark hope for peace among Libya's rival factionsChallenges remainAs Israel intensifies its military campaign against Hamas, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has rejected a Gaza ceasefire for now."The reason for having a ceasefire is to separate the fronts and isolate Hamas," Netanyahu said Tuesday."From day two of the war, Hamas was counting on Hezbollah to fight by its side. With Hezbollah out of the picture, Hamas is left on its own. We will increase our pressure on Hamas."Despite Ankara's overtures, Israel has warned that Hamas leaders are not safe from targeting, even in Turkey."They will find these Hamas leaders and target them wherever they find them," Lindenstrauss maintains.

AP correspondent Charles de Ledesma reports the UAE arrested three Uzbek nationals for the killing of an Israeli-Moldovan rabbi.

On this episode of BREAKING TAKES, Sam and Zach discuss a man who faked his own death to flee the country and start a new life with his Uzbek wife, Spirit Airlines suspending flights due to gunfire over Haiti, the Ponzi scheme of the dental industry, and more.  SUBSCRIBE TO BREAKING TAKES PREMIUM: https://breakingtakes.supercast.com/ BREAKING TAKES LINKS: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/breakingtakes/TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@breakingtakesApple: https://apple.co/3K4Yny2Spotify: https://spoti.fi/3pThWCtOvercast: https://bit.ly/43uz1AyPremium: https://breakingtakes.supercast.com/ 

Finishing the normal weekend.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..“Being an asshole is not so much a matter of anatomy as one of social consciousness.”(Where we left off)"Bitch, did you just Taser my fiancé?" Orlando's lady stood up. Orlando was struggling back up as well."You are questioning the obvious," Estere mused as she dropped the device. She deftly pulled out what I thought was a compact Bersa 9 and began applying a silencer.It was sort of amazing that no one was screaming yet, then it dawned on me that we were in a soundproofed room and Estere was standing at the only exit."Would you have preferred I use this?" the Hashashin killer motioned with her firearm."How did you get a gun in here?" Brennan stammered. He looked ready to pee himself, so tonight was coming out in spades."Estere," I greeted the woman from Kurdistan. "Those two are okay," motioning to Orlando and his lady. "He's got some testosterone issues; I'm sure you understand.""Is this a kidnapping?" Anima sounded rather upbeat."Your rung on the Ladder of Heaven is not high," Estere commented to Anima. "Your outlook is not promising either. Silence is your best option, so exercise it.""Cáel, do you know this woman?" Libra had begun piecing things together; as in; my life was so crazy that women with guns showing up was much too common an occurrence. I thought about 'Yes Honey, she's a member of an 11th century mystic order of Nazri Ismailis assassins. In fact, her people gave us the word assassin'. Telling the truth at this juncture didn't seem wise, so;"Yes, Estere and I are old pals," I lied. "She's a freelance archivist, genealogist and an Olmec-tastic historical pioneer." Don't bother looking it up; Olmec-tastic is a made up word; it is the crunching of Olmec (a Mesoamerican pre-Columbian culture) and '-tastic' which means; I guess it is a truncated form of 'fantastic'."You mean she's in 'record reduction', the same as you?" Casper whispered."Precisely!" I grinned her way. "Except she's got a Masters diploma on some wall somewhere alongside the shrunken heads of her first three victims; I mean clients; Clients!" Why was I blathering? There was a strange (to most of the room) woman between us and the only exit and panicking would suck; big time.Pause."So, Orlando," I restarted things, "are you going to get up and attempt to kick my ass, causing my friend here to shoot you, or can I return to explaining to Brennan how the world is NOT his oyster and I'm willing to slam anal beads made of flesh-eating scarabs up his rectum to prove it?"That was a gross visual, even for me. A momentary pause as Brooke and her new friend wedged their way toward me (and the girl with the gun)."Every time we meet," Estere observed, "you are surrounded with a curtain of women.""Sucks to be me?" I shrugged."At least these are sheep," she noted. That didn't go over well. Libra confronted Estere."Hey now, you can't talk about us that way," Libra insisted."Or what?" Estere regarded her."Or; or, Cáel will make you stop," Libra growled; THEN looked at me. Wrong sequence of events."Libra," I pulled her back into my embrace, "I've been on the job about a month. She's been making character-building life decisions since before I hit puberty.""What was that; a month ago," Brennan snorted. A yelp followed. Estere had shot at him. "What the fuck!" he staggered back into his seat. "You shot me.""No, I shot 'at' you. Had I shot you, you would be bleeding," Estere glowered. "I am not one of Cáel's normal guardians. I take insults to any women as a personal affront; a sickness best dealt with in a pain-filled, educational fashion. You are not bleeding because that would displease Cáel. Now say 'thank you' in the next ten seconds, or be prepared to go through life as a eunuch."Brennan looked to Orlando in hopes he had some secret mojo to handle this situation."Dumbass," Orlando snarled at Brennan, "you are the punk who put us in a room with only one damn exit. I'm not taking a bullet for you.""You are the martial artist," Brennan snapped back. "Do something!""Brennan, you had better say something quick." Casper urged her host."I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Brennan whined."I have crippled supplicants for groveling with twice that level of passion, Cáel Ishara," Estere stared at me. She began removing her silencer. "Cáel and I have unfinished business, so I will let this pathetic insult pass."She shoulder holstered her weapon and moved to sit at my side. The problem was the passel of ladies around me. Estere looked past the last woman (Brooke) to the somewhat stupefied rich thing beside her."Move," she stated politely. Unlike my difficulties earlier, the whole crowd quickly shuffled down to make space.That tiny hiccup settled, we returned to the abnormal activities of the Illusions Gentlemen's Club's private room. Some of us had fun. A few, used to tormenting the staff, found themselves shooting fearful looks Estere's way whenever they began to act out. I took a few seconds to quietly talk to Estere, now that I had some breathing room."I talked with Ishara; the Goddess," I related. "She's pissed with the Host right now and I'm not sure what to do." Divulging information? Yes. I needed help somewhat badly."Your Order has been out of balance for some time," Estere counseled. "Without balance, there can be no true strength. You are dying out and there must be a blemish behind that; some cancer eating away at the foundation of your belief system."Wow; actually useful. Essentially ; I needed to stay the course."Cool. Thanks Estere," I smiled. "Can I plumb the depths of your knowledge for two more pieces of advice?" We both knew what 'plumb' really meant. I pulled out the necklace from beneath my shirt. "An Earth and Sky envoy sent me this gift, but; the message didn't make it.""What would a suitable gift be and how would I find the person in New York City?" I asked."That is not a gift," Estere smiled warmly. "That is a token of passage from a Beg of the E and S; essentially a regional commander. Pretty impressive. Unfortunately, he, or she, is expecting you to return it at some pre-described place and time; which was probably stated in the message you never received.""My turn," she twisted in her bench seat and placed her left leg over me then inserted it between my legs. "What will be the fate of our daughter?""She will automatically be a member of the Host. Heritage passes through the male line. If she has the genetics that conspire against fate, then she would be in the running to become Head of House.""Not automatic?" she questioned."No. Such things, at least while decided by me, will be based upon merit. I couldn't keep faith with the members of the House otherwise," I explained."Would she be allowed to be passed between us?" was the next question."Absolutely. Not only am I a huge fan of motherhood; I see such an education making her stronger and more flexible when dealing with issues with outsiders," I assured Estere."You act freely. Don't you have to consult your High Priestess; perhaps the Council?" she mused. "I must seek direction from my superiors.""Over the welfare of my children? Nope, not happening. The daughters and sons of; the House are our responsibility as a group. We do not need the other Houses meddling in our affairs," I stated."That is good," she snuggled up even tighter. Sadly for that romantic moment, we had less romantic company to contend with.(Later that Night)Why was I still at Casa da Sulkanen? Brennan couldn't take a hint, buy a clue, or learn a lesson. Why was Estere with us? It was the Pamela factor. Who was going to tell her to leave? After five, non-continuous hours of sex with three women (Casper still hadn't come over to our side yet), how was I still standing? Simply put, I wasn't.Brooke and I were in the nicely heated pool, her arms wrapped around my neck, mine massaging her naked ass and us doing a little whisper/snicker/tickle/giggle game that is very whimsical and hard to explain. Brooke went from micro-orgasm to micro-orgasm to the Big One. Fortunately, our mutual experience allowed me to be in water shallow enough that my toes could touch bottom."I've decided I'm not jealous of Estere," Brooke panted into my ear. "I see the happiness in your eyes when we make love. I think you and I are doing okay." Not quite a Writ of Possession. I was working out the uncomplicated response when our gentle, body-bonded, circular motion caused Brooke to tense up. I followed her gaze to the lounge chair where we had stacked up our belongings, and the dark, dark blonde-haired women sitting in it.Her dress was business chic yet rumpled. Her eyes had the lines of someone who spent too much time looking at a computer screen and she looked mentally and emotionally drained."Good evening," I greeted her. I steered Brooke toward the closest ladder only to realize that even our towels were by her seat. There was nothing we could do but face the situation head on."I'm Cáel Nyilas and my beautiful friend here is Brooke Lee," I made our introductions. "Please excuse our condition, but we weren't expecting company at this hour by the pool.""You are not my brother's normal flock of seagulls," she commented. "Hana Sulkanen, by the way." The way 'seagulls' rolled off her tongue, I knew she meant 'winged rats' instead of any true avian.Oh cool; she had a Carnegie-Melon ring. Oh cool; she was watching my still erect penis bobbing her way. I thought a little damage control/diplomacy was in order."As I said, I'm Cáel. I work as an intern at Havenstone Commercial Investments. Brooke recently graduated Vassar, was going to get married to some other guy, but that fell through a little while ago," I directed the conversation to Brooke and I not being parasites."School?" Hana inquired. So much for that."Bolingbrook in New Hampshire," I answered."Never heard of it," she yawned. Brooke simmered with outrage over that."You and 99.99% of North America," I joked. "It doesn't change the fact that I kick ass at my job, am constantly underestimated and enjoy making my own way in the world.""And you consider making your own way in the world to be swimming in my father's pool at four in the morning?" she snorted. Her drink was a V-8. No alcohol for her."We came because Cáel's father was murdered this week," Brooke snapped. "He needed a break." That brought a few seconds."Really now," she regarded me studiously. Out came the E-device."Ferko Nyilas; Burnham Illinois which is a suburb of Chicago," I fed her the pertinent data. Brooke was even unhappier that I felt compelled to verify her statement, so I distracted her by suggesting we gather our belongings."Your father was killed in a gun battle; still under investigation," Hana muttered."Are you some sort of criminal? Was your father?" she probed."Ah, I see you possess the same level of common courtesy as your brother, Brennan," I responded. "To answer the first and only question I feel like answering; no; making my own way in the world means I don't answer the questions of exhausted, over-extended, junior plutocrats who somehow assume they can provide any useful input to my life."Verbal hammer to her facial self-esteem. Hana was a 'producer' in that she had a job she felt she deserved, worked at it to some acclaim and added to her family's productivity; the opposite of Brennan."If you feel insulted, by all means leave, Mr. Nyilas," Hana glared."Oh, thank God," I sighed happily. I began dressing, as did Brooke. Hana looked uncertain."Cáel's been looking for a cordial excuse to get us out of here since we arrived," Brooke explained. "I imagine I should thank you. I wasn't sure how I'd keep Cáel from punching out your little brother over breakfast." Hana looked out-maneuvered."What is that?" Hana pointed to my horse-hoof necklace. She almost reached for it, then politesse kicked in."It is gift from a stranger," I told her. "It is from Central Asia.""May I see it?" she inquired. I nodded, then handed it over."Looks old," she muttered. "The language; it's not Uzbek;” Seeing the curious look on my face, "I do some business for my step-father in the old SSR's, so I've picked up some of the languages." Then, "I swear it's Chagatai." (SSR = Soviet Socialist Republics.)"Where is that from?" Brooke leaned in."Nowhere today. For 500 years, it was the lingua franca of the Turkish people ; until the Soviets wiped it out a hundred years ago. They wanted Russian to be the unifying language, so they promoted regional tongues and regulated Chagatai to the long list of dead languages," she answered.I added my attempt at Russian conversation; "In Soviet Russia, you do not speak a language, a language speaks for you." I joked.Hana snorted. Then replied in her Russian; "Be careful comrade, or your cleverness might get you promoted to the rank of apparatchik," she snickered. I feigned horror."No!" Brooke protested. "Speak something I can understand, damn it."I quickly translated for Brooke as the three of us migrated inside. Hana led us to a third, and newer, section of the estate. The goal was her purse and the reading glasses there in. Compared to the few bedrooms we'd seen, Hana's room was rather austere."Well, I know Uzbek and this is similar; say Canterbury Tales English to Modern American," she mused."The only thing I know for sure is that it belonged to Shahrukh Mirza of the House of Barlas," she read off several of the symbols. No one said anything. "Please don't tell me you found this at some rummage sale, or flea market." she grew intense."No. As I said earlier, it was a gift and given with the understanding it would be returned at a future place and time," I told her."Too bad. I would pay a pretty penny for this," she held it up to the light for further examination."I'm not one of those dreamers that feels money cheapens stuff and blah; blah; blah. Money has its uses," I countered. "I also believe some things are priceless. They either can't, or shouldn't, be sold. As I said, this was a gift meant to be returned.""Maybe you can put me in touch with the owner so I can make them an offer," Hana suggested."I'd do that except that I have no idea who gave it to me, or where I am to return it," I shrugged. Hana was now looking for some deception on my part. "It was delivered to my place of work and a person who intercepted the necklace destroyed the message that came with it.""Well, I hope they got a stiff reprimand, if not outright loss of employment," Hana sighed."Oh no," I chuckled. "That's not the Havenstone way. My people and I are going to stalk her and her people down and then beat/stab/scar each and every one of them. What she did wasn't a mistake. This was a direct and calculated insult that only blood will cleanse.""That sounds positively Old Testament," Hana nodded."Cáel's women don't kid around," Brooke added."Really, now. What is it exactly that you do?" Hana asked me."This should be good," Brooke muttered through her saucy grin."I'm a facilitator for an aerospace project with our R and D division," I feigned concentration. "Its high-tech stuff; I don't understand all the details. I'm relatively positive we are creating nano-thin, artificial polymers for balloons aimed at space. You know, fill up the aerial unit with Helium, create a powerful x-direction buoyancy then let the package accelerate into high orbit.""I've never heard of anything like that," Hana furrowed her brow."Neither has anyone else before now," Brooke laughed, then hugged me. "The miraculous part is; I think he creates these employment opportunities off the cuff; no rehearsal.""Wait; you just lied to me?" Hana grew petulant."Yes, I did and I apologize, Hana," I looked rather shamefaced. "I work as an intern for Executive Services. I am also on the Board of Directors, but that's a truth best gotten into at another time.""Oh; if you are on the Board of Directors for Havenstone, how can you be an intern?" Hana frowned."I was given the position on the board, I earned the position of intern," I answered. "Being a guiding force for a corporation I know nothing about is rather stupid, in my book.""I couldn't agree more," Hana said thoughtfully and seemed make a severe weather-vane shift. Brooke stifled a yawn rather unsuccessfully and it quickly made a circuit of our little troupe. It was bedtime for us all.(Breakfast and fast breaks)I could have used a good deal more sleep. But I knew working out and jogging were better for my body and soul. Brooke and Libra acted as if I had betrayed their friendship in favor of torture. Estere took secretive amusement at their suffering and at my ability to stress myself as hard as I did. She had already enjoyed the physical benefits of my exercise mania last night.A wonderful distraction to the whole ordeal (beyond listening to Libra and Brooke spit death curses at me between ragged gasps of breath) was the rising sun setting the Atlantic Ocean on fire.We had been summoned for breakfast at 9:30 am. That translated to me and three lady companions showing up to an overly large dining room on time to find Hana already there.The South wall was a series of French doors, all open, whose long white curtains billowed in the morning breeze. It was a bit chilly for our 'beach casual' attire, yet survivable. A staffer I hadn't seen before verbally related this morning's menu; blink. By quick consensus, we agreed to order the same things to make our orders easier to recall.In hindsight, that was probably unnecessary. The woman servicing us was very professional. She was also sympathetic enough to our efforts at kindness to acknowledge it. The vigor with which we demolished our fruit bowls caused Hana to chuckle."Building up your energy reserves?" she teased us. Libra and Estere didn't know Hana."He made us run this morning," Brooke griped. "It was utter Hell.""On the beach?" Hana asked me."Yeah," I replied."Try running along the road next time," Hana snorted. "It is easier on the arches."Libra hit me with a backhand to the bicep."Asshole," she glowered. "You had better get those magic fingers to work on my calves when breakfast is over.""What's in it for me?" I countered."Oh, have mercy, Cáel," Brooke pleaded. "You do this every day; as does Estere apparently, but Libra and I don't. Help us out here.""We have a masseuse," Hana offered. "He's very good. I can give him a call and have him come over from the spa.""Please do, Ms. Sulkanen. I'm feeling a real yen for some time alone this morning," I requested."I can do that, Cáel, and call me Hanna," she finished just as;"Hey Hana," Brennan yawned as he came stumbling into the room wearing boxers and nothing more. "Brooke, Kibble, Lisa," he added. His not unimpressive cock was strategically placed in the opening.Hana rolled her eyes in disgust. Brooke snickered. Libra did one better."I didn't know they made them that small," she said to Brooke who began giggling."Shut up, you lesbian freak," Brennan's amusement evaporated to bitterness. The attendant showed up, got his order and then the orders of the next two to stagger in.The low course of the conversation included the arrival of Orlando and his fiancée, only to dissipate with the appearance of Anima leading Casper. Casper could barely take her seat, even with Anima's help. Anima's look was victorious and challenging. Casper; she was stoned, wasted and not in anything approaching her right mind. Her body was sweaty and her hair was slick.The kicker was the splotches of dried semen and vaginal fluid on Casper's face."Say 'hi' to Cáel," Anima pressed the issue."Hi," Casper waved as her body swayed. Hana was uncomfortable. Libra and Brooke were furious. Estere was; studious. Anima's eyes remained lock on mine.I pulled out my phone and began taking pictures of the participants. By the time I made it to Brennan, he was laughing and joking at my efforts. Orlando had a different tack."What are you doing?" he menaced."Life should be about moral decisions, compassion and consequences," I related drolly. "You made your call last night. Live with it."I finished the photo session while Orlando was still trying to figure out what was going on. I had to use my phone for a different function."Buffy, I'm sending you several pictures of people who think they are above the law. Those people raped, or facilitated the rape of the woman in the final picture," I told the First of House Ishara. "I cautioned those people about appropriate behavior last night.""They chose to ignore me. The legal system can't touch them. I don't know what a proper punishment for such a horrendous act is, so I thought you might give me some council on this matter," I added. Long pause."Don't worry about it, Cáel," Buffy responded in a ghostly voice."Take care and I'll see you on Monday," I finished up. She hung up and that was it."That was spooky," Brennan chuckled. "How about I make a scary phone call and mention the words 'Cáel' and 'trash collection'?"I ignored him."I could call the sheriff and have you charged with menacing."I continued to ignore him."Stop serving him," he snapped at the server as she came to my plate."Serve him breakfast, Donna (the server)," Hana interrupted. "He's my guest, Brennan, so no longer your worry." I didn't acknowledge Hana's kindness as this was still part of a family feud and I wasn't family. I'd thank her later. The Vacuous Think Tank members weren't done yet. The privileged shit-heads began playing a video on their ultimate phone devices, sexually feeble soundtrack included.Deep down in Casper's mind she began to put the current audio input to her recent nightmare. Tears fell down her cheeks. On the video, the name 'Casper' was used enough to move it past the throws of ecstasy into the realm of sorry-ass amateur date-rape porn."We may have broken Casper a teensy bit," Anima feigned sincere regret well."Oh," I chuckled, "it is too late for word play now, Anima. That train has left the station and the whole crew here missed it. I warned you about slithering horrors and the beautification of humanity. Here is the final lesson;""Fuck you and your bullshit," Brennan mocked me."Brennan; my guest," Hana insisted. His response was to blather some noise; nah, nah, nah; an act several of his playmates took up. It was a display more appropriate for 5 year olds than men and women above the age of consent. Estere tapped Brooke next to her, motioning with her fork to a melon ball in her bowl. After a momentarily confusion Brooke tossed the melon up.Estere tossed the fork, skewering it with enough force to sail past me and land on Libra's plate. Two more exhibits, including the final one that had her spitting her thrown melon on a tumbling fork and Estere turned on Brennan, fork ready. The melons were nearly the size of eyeballs."Do it and go to jail for fucking ever," Brennan tried to 'man-up'."Diplomatic immunity," she smiled. "I doubt the government of Azerbaijan will give a rat's ass about you and your drug-consuming, alcohol-guzzling, whoring lifestyle. The worst that happens to me is that I have to go home for a few months. You will be blind forever." Estere revealed her second fork."Not this morning, Bitch," Orlando stood up. "I'm not afraid of forks and side-show tricks." I stood up as well, but went in a different direction. Brennan was at the top of the table; Hana was at the bottom. Casper and Anima were on the opposite side of the table and closer to Hana so that was the route I took.Anima, Brennan and Orlando had a problem. Estere was threatening Brennan. I was clearly coming to retrieve Casper. The quandary was which way Orlando went; he couldn't both safeguard Brennan and stop me. I was pretty sure that Brennan was convinced Orlando would come his aid because of his role as paymaster.Orlando Keyes wasn't a thug, or a dog. He was a tactician and he planned to win this fight. Contrary to my desires, that meant I came first. I was far closer and getting nearer all the time. Even if Estere managed to fork out one of Brennan's eyes, Estere couldn't contribute to the fight with me quickly enough to make a difference."Casper, you want to stay with your friends, don't you?" Anima cooed to her victim. Casper's head bobbled, making a tragic contrast to her tears. Hana had done as much as she dared at this juncture. Orlando came closer, snatching up an unused chair to counter my knife. I backed up. It was my only true choice.Charging forth against Orlando certainly would have been romantic. It would have also been futile. I couldn't beat the man; hurting him didn't equate to actually winning. Estere blinding Brennan accomplished nothing. When I had back-pedaled to Hana, Orlando relented. Once his bladder-weakening fear turned into post-survival euphoria, Brennan started laughing."Fucking dipshit," he sneered. The thump of helicopter blades began dominating perceptions. "I knew you didn't have it in you. You are a wimp and a chicken-shit coward." Brooke and Libra were worried and confused."He could not win against Mr. Keyes," Estere stated to them. "Getting pummeled would have been a wasteful gesture.""Oh, now you are his apologist." a random fuck-nut snorted. The helicopter kept getting closer."What about Casper?" Brooke worried. Anima smirked at the show of heartfelt concern."They haven't gotten her out of the room yet," Estere pointed out. "Once they depart the table we will be able to double-team Mr. Keyes and break him. The aftermath is an absolute certainty.""I don't think so," Orlando challenged."Oh yes," Estere grinned wolfishly. "Once we have you on the ground, I'm going to shatter your palms then tear off your fingers. Pull up, twist and snap; I've done it several times; it is quick and easy. If you think you can continue your career without fists, by all means, stay on your present course of action.""What is it that you do again?" Hana asked Estere."I'm a; a freelance archivist, genealogist and an Olmec-tastic historical pioneer; according to Cáel anyway," she answered."From Azerbaijan?" Hana murmured."I never said I was from there, only that I have diplomatic status with their UN mission," Estere clarified. Hana said something in an unknown tongue to which Estere responded. Their conversation lasted about one minute."We both speak Farsi, though mine is 'schooled' and hers has a Tabriz accent," Hana enlightened us."I apologize for last night, Cáel," Hana nodded. "I mistook you for one of my little step-brother's normal crowd of useless nitwits. You appear to be both smart and know interesting people." 'And how', I muttered internally."I take it your daughter is with Philip," Brennan intervened. "Miss her?"By this time, the helicopter had traversed the ocean-side view of the villa and was humming its way to the east end of the estate. Philip must have been Hana's divorced whatever who most likely had alternating weekends of child custody."Cáel, you mentioned something about a 'final lesson'," Hana turned to me."Only this: there was a woman who trusted a man. She decided to leave him; so he, and a few buddies, held her down and gang-raped her for two days. When they passed out, she didn't run away, or call the police. No, she took a baseball bat and knocked them into la-la land. She secured them with garbage ties, woke them up by stabbing them in non-vital areas and then proceeded to castrate each and every one with a dull kitchen knife.She went to prison, got out and put her life back together. She eventually rose to a position of some importance and influence with various questionable characters at her command," I continued. "If confronted with a similar situation, especially when money renders justice mute, I'm not sure what this woman would do to assuage her haunted memories.""Do you really want to put poor Casper up on the top twenty free porn sites, Cáel?" Anima pouted."Not my concern anymore," I sighed. "I put the facts out there. What other people make of that information is no longer under my control. From here on out, it doesn't matter what you do, Anima. You've chosen to act in a heinous manner, as have the rest of your crowd; Orlando and his lady included.""If something happens;” Orlando rumbled."You will do nothing," Estere laughed. "You can do nothing. I know the person of whom Cáel speaks and there is nothing you can do, nowhere you can hide where she will not find all of you and balance karmic accounts.""We didn't do anything," the fiancée proclaimed."Standing back and abetting a vile deed is hardly an effective defense," Estere stared with pitiless eyes. "Did you attempt to alter Mr. Keyes' course of actions; you clearly could have? You did not. Mr. Keyes safeguarded the perpetrators of the heinous deed, and thus both of you are condemned by that crime."The boot was on the other foot now for Orlando. He couldn't come at me. He couldn't come at Estere. None of the 'men' on his side were going to stand up to any pain while Brooke and Libra, though unschooled, looked ready to be a serious nuisance. That meant Orlando would be fighting Estere and I simultaneously; and he would lose.Worse, he would lose over a phone call that might not mean a thing. Oh, Estere and I were confident retribution was coming his way and that was unsettling. It wouldn't hold up in court and Hana's presence negated everyone else's legal immunity, except for Brennan who remained her family- the nut sack. Anima's gaze shifted from me to Libra, which my girl found unsettling."Cáel, what is going to happen; over this and getting Casper back?" Libra whispered. For starters, we hadn't rescued Casper yet, so there was no 'getting her back'."Libra, you've seen the scars crisscrossing my body; the bruises and sore ribs I've suffered through," I told her."Those were from the co-workers who hold deep and abiding affection toward me," I continued. "Imagine what they are capable of inflicting on those they do not like. Think about what they might do if they thought I was in danger and distressed. Couple that with the intimate knowledge of exactly what Casper has gone through ; is going through, and then draw your own conclusions." There was a pause while the others ate and Libra digested the information."Are we ever going to see Trent again?" she leaned in and whispered."It can be done, but that it isn't something either of you would enjoy," I whispered out of the side of my mouth. Sending Brooke and Libra on a one-way flight to Indonesia/Philippines definitely wasn't part of my life plan. It was the safest way to let her know Trent was alive."Does Brooke know?" Libra nudged me quietly. I shook my head. "Does Trent?" Another head shake. Pause. "That day in the office; when Trent dumped Brooke; you really were trying to keep us from harm, weren't you?""Yes," I mouthed. "Now eat up."The helicopter noises had a purpose and the consequences entered the dining room as breakfast was winding down. It was Jormo and Misty Sulkanen, aka Dad and Wife #3."Brennan," Jormo said in a neutral voice. We, Brennan's guests, barely rated a glance."Hana," Dad greeted his step-daughter with much more affection."Hey Dad," Brennan laughed. "You've almost missed Orlando here busting up Kibble," he waved a fork at me."Good Morning, Father," Hana waved, "Misty.""Kibble?" Jormo sighed, distracted from his path further into the villa by his son's statement."That would be me, Mr. and Mrs. Sulkanen," I swallowed a piece of my omelet quickly and raised my hand, "though my fellow homo sapiens call me Cáel Nyilas.""Mr. Nyilas, along with Brooke, Libra and Estere have agreed to be MY guests for the weekend," Hana added."Very well," her dad nodded. "Mr. Keyes, your endorsement contract with 'Fitness Tech' doesn't include you getting into fights on my behalf, or my son's." Mr. Sulkanen must have owned Fitness Tech, thus Brennan's believed power over an athlete endorsing some product."It also doesn't stop me from getting into unsanctioned bouts," Orlando glared at me. The tension was broken by Casper starting to sob loudly and uncontrollably.We all did the standing-up game once more. This time Casper saw me coming back for her and stood up. Anima tried to calm the shaken woman. Orlando closed in."New target," Estere stated serenely. She had a fork at the ready and was staring at Orlando's fiancée. It gave me the opening I needed.I took hold of Casper's left arm. Anima took Casper's right. This time she had misjudged the situation and I wasn't settling for a vocal educational moment. I pushed Casper aside, put both hands under Anima's arms and lifted her up."I told you this wasn't a game you wanted to play," I cautioned her right before I slammed her length-wise on the table.Anima's head cracked-down hard and the breath was driven from her body."Mr. Nyilas!" Mr. Sulkanen shouted. "What do you think you are doing to Anima?""I'm not being an enabling bastard, Sir," I growled back. "Come on, Casper," I began leading her back to my seat."Why don't we see what security has to say about that," Jormo shot back angrily."Father, something has happened to the young lady; Casper; and neither Anima, nor Brennan, were adequately helping her," Hana stood up. "The last time Cáel tried, Mr. Keyes got in his way. This time, Anima discovered she wasn't the same level of deterrent.""He slammed Anima into the table, Hana," the old wolf snarled. There was nothing wrong with this guy's macho. Anima shot me a treasured, smug glance as she rolled off the table. The spiraling tension was a super-cell caused by the Hana-Brennan poison and Jormo's displeasure with me. Hana decided to not abandon me, which allowed Brennan to go after her like a starving piranha."Hold on," Misty tried to calm the pseudo-sibling shouting match. She strode majestically over to me, Casper, and Libra to take a look at our charge. Within a meter there was no doubt what Casper had been put through. The smell of an orgy's aftermath, the tattered look, the listless smile belying her tears and her inability to focus, clearly chilled Misty.We were thrust back into Sulkanen family politics. The purely human reaction was for Misty to lambast Anima and Brennan then call the cops. Except, Misty was wife number three, Hana was step-daughter from marriage number two; not even blood-relations with Jormo, and Brennan was a blood-heir for what little time he had left on Earth."Come with me," Misty curled an arm around Casper's waist."We are coming with you," Brooke announced."That won't be necessary," Misty smiled wanly."That wasn't a request," Brooke snapped angrily. "After this, I don't trust any of 'you' people."That went over as well as a father realizing his son looked like the butler. Jormo's demeanor turned thunderous; he was being disrespected in his own home, Brennan looked happily vindictive and the rest didn't matter at the moment."Young lady;” the old wolf growled."Shut up!" Brooke screamed. "The fact that neither you, nor any of your people, are calling 9 1 1 speaks volumes about the lack of character and untrustworthiness of your clan, Mr. Sulkanen."Brooke had just discovered her noblesse oblige. All that crap I'd been talking about the upper crust of society, the top 1% etc.; here was finally the 'face slap' that was married to the 'backhand' so many of us lower class schmucks experienced. Sulkanen was nouveau riche; a self-made man if you considered coming to America with three million in family assets to be a low enough starting point.Brooke wasn't going to attack his credit rating, or bad-mouth him to his business associates. No, there were a ton of socially critical charities and committees that were about to be told by an impeccable source (Brooke) that Dad Sulkanen harbored his rapist son from criminal prosecution. No, this wasn't some 'nobody' being defended either. Casper wasn't known, but she was notable."You can certainly leave," the Old Man rumbled. "The young lady stays. I'm calling Security and my concierge physician.""Go," I glanced to Estere and off she sprinted. A moment too slow, Brennan and Orlando clued into the threat. Orlando took after Estere."She's got a gun!" Brennan squealed. Jormo was busy dispensing orders over his phone as the situation spiraled. But then there was Hana."Mr. Nyilas, please exert some control over this situation," Hana urged."I'll try. Brooke, why don't you, Libra and Mrs. Sulkanen take Casper to a more comfortable setting," I suggested."What about your Azerbaijani friend?" Hana pressed."Oh," I chuckled. "Me giving Estere advice about conflict resolution is like me giving you advice on," I had to wrack my mind about something the Sulkanens were invested in, "natural gas exploration. She'll be fine.""This way," Misty directed. I was so much more enamored and impressed with my two princesses than I had been during our initial meeting. They both shot me quick looks that said the same thing. They knew I was sending them out of harm's way, not exiling them from the decision-making process.Only three of the remaining people weren't scared; myself (I'm an idiot), Anima (sick fuck) and Jormo Sulkanen, who seemed to know the difference between fear you could do something about, and the fear you ignored. We heard bellows from upstairs as Orlando finally discovered that he didn't know what room my group was staying in and that Estere had evaded him.The hopeful-to-be Mrs. Keyes stood up and looked in the direction her fiancé had disappeared into."Don't worry," I said. "The moment Hana expressed the bonds of hospitality to Ms. Abed, you were protected from premeditated mischief." I wasn't 100% sure of that. Keeping the woman from racing after Estere was crucial.The two security types showed up first. They must have had some part of the house dedicated to their use, because I had no idea they were about, yet here they were. They wore moderately expensive, off-the-rack suits, seemed to be in decent physical condition and had pistols and stun guns. One word from Jormo and the guns came out. They had the polished look of pretend-professionals.Had I not worked at Havenstone and seen its malicious underbelly, I would have been impressed. As it was, how could things go more wrong? They split up; one going after Orlando and Estere and the other closing cautiously with me. He looked cool, but his gun was held too high and he blithely came within hand-to-hand combat range.Oh please, everyone I cared about had left the room. If this guy and I wrestled for his piece, I could have cared less who got shot while it was his damn job to see that no one besides me got a scratch. I was sure his corporate employer cautioned him about such mistakes a lot; because he still had the safety engaged on his firearm. I'm an idiot; I'm an idiot; I'm an idiot."Your bitch is going to get shot now, Cocksucker," Brennan sneered. The security guy was reaching for my arm to pull me away from the table. He hadn't bother to ask me, instead being engrossed in his ear piece chatter. I snatched his gun from his grasp, disengaged the safety and pointed it at the guy."Put the stun gun on the table then back up nice and slow," I eye-balled the shocked man.I was pretty sure that was the moment Brennan wet himself. No one said a thing. The guard did as I requested, then backed away. At three meters, I dropped out the magazine then put it on the table. Next, I removed the chambered round from the pistol and put them both on the table."Mr. Sulkanen, you don't know me so I'm cutting you some slack right now," I sighed."Dad, his father was murdered Monday night in a gunfight," Hana interrupted. "Pointing a gun at him probably wasn't the best course of action.""So it appears," Jormo glared at me."G; get your gun back, you idiot," Brennan squawked at the guard.I slid the stun gun to Hana then reloaded the pistol before handing it back to the guy, grip first."Keep your distance to two meters, or more, unless you have a partner ; and whoever taught you to keep the safety engaged is a moron. Guns aren't toys, so don't treat it like one," I told him. The guy took his gun back."You served?" he muttered to me. Me? In the military; I guess I now qualified."Nah, I work with a bunch of girls at the Customer Complaint desk at a major telemarketing firm. After a few weeks on the job, you learn to get squirrely when you see people coming into the office with trench coats in this early summer heat," I said. So much implied with no real information."Oh God," Hana snorted in amusement. "You really do that job thing all the time," she giggled, "don't you?""At Havenstone, my sadistic task-mistresses often require me to think on my feet, so I've learned to share the love at work and abroad," I nodded."What?" Jormo scowled."Cáel Nyilas is on the Board of Directors at Havenstone, as well as an intern for their Executive Services division," Hana stated. "He is learning about the corporation from the bottom up.""Bullshit," Brennan snapped."Can you prove this, Mr. Nyilas?" Jormo challenged me."Normally your recognition would mean nadda to me, but Hana has gone out of her way to be nice to my friends," I agreed. "Who do you want me to call that you will believe?""I don't actually know anyone at Havenstone Commercial," he admitted."Wait!" I had a brainstorm. "Call Javiera Castello. She'll verify who I am and she's pretty much as 'an unimpeachable source' as I'm likely to get.""Who is she?" Hana pulled out her phone."She's an United States Attorney for the District Court of the Northern District of Illinois," I babbled."Are you sure we can reach her on the weekend?" Hana was already networking. She wasn't a lawyer; she was a power player, if a small one."Tell her you think Cáel Nyilas is involved with some crime, and she'll be in touch ASAP," I assured her.The call went in to her team of corporate lawyers and the countdown began. Brennan decided it was time to migrate away from the danger, so he and his buddies decided to take the yacht out after changing; by way of using its crew to escape. Anima elected to remain behind. She kept expecting a reaction from me. She wasn't getting one.No anger, sullenness, contempt, or pity. I'd save my anger for those a bit farther from the grave. I wasn't sullen because her victory wasn't a victory. It was a loss for both of us. I had requested that she exert some self-control in my presence and she hadn't; end of discussion. I certainly didn't pity her. Anima was evil, not merely a creature ruled by compulsions.She had thought I was bluffing. I wasn't. Anima thought she was in an emotional endurance match and if she waited long enough, my façade would crack and she'd get her first taste of my pain. Twenty-four minutes. That was the time it took Javiera to call back."Yes, Ms. Castello," Hana answered, "I have Mr. Nyilas here with me right now.""What's he done wrong; that's difficult to explain," Hana began. I heard the laughter coming from the other end. "You sound like this happens to him a good deal." Talking. "That doesn't sound promising." Talking. "I'm not a criminal legal talent, but I'll give it a shot. Theft, theft of a firearm, assault, obtuse death threats and possible possession of a stolen object." Talking.Hana gave me her phone. At the same moment, Estere dropped down in front of one of those beautiful French doors with their southern exposure and sauntered back into the dining room. Her hastily applied clothing additions suggested she was better armed. The guard gave a startled jolt as Estere drew even with him."Don't worry about him," I told Estere while covering the phone with my hand. "I chambered in the first round backwards." Estere smirked. The guy tested his piece and, sure enough, a normally chambered round popped out; I had lied. The poor bastard gave me a nasty stare. Estere's look to me was pricelessly appreciative.Ninja were all about stealth, the Black Hand was all about making use of whatever weapon was handy; and the Hashashin were all about misdirection and deception. Estere was a Mistress of M and D giving a young trainee a congratulatory nod. Would the guard search Estere for weapons? Not anymore. Now he was worried his pistol would fall apart and Hana had never returned his stun gun.His confidence had been shattered before combat had actually begun."Hello, USA Castello," I spoke into the phone."How are you going to get out of this mess this time?" she began."Can't I simply be innocent?" I pleaded."No," Javiera asserted with authority. "Now tell me what is going on.""For the sake of the interested parties swarming about; some with guns; I'll use pseudonyms. 'A' invited 'B' to his domicile for the weekend. 'B' invited me and 'C' to come along. 'A' had a friend, 'D' plus a cast of assorted losers.'A' and 'D' also had 'E' here for the weekend. She trusted them so ended up drugged and sexually assaulted; a great deal. Video was made," Estere tapped my left upper arm and exhibited her phone suggesting to me she'd gained access to the video the group had taken of Casper. "'F' showed up and decided to help myself, 'B' and 'C' get 'E', only to be outmuscled by 'G'.'H' shows up, takes charge, and decides that myself, 'B', 'C' and 'I' (new friend) should leave while he sits on 'E' and waits for the bought-and-paid for doctor to show up. Goodbye any evidence, trot out the legion of lawyers, crucify the victim and justice dies," I related."What do you want me to do?" Javiera sighed. She believed me.She also believed that I was going to seek revenge for the young lady and while she had to publically chastise me and privately urge me to stop, she knew what motivated me."The caller wanted some confirmation that I'm a Big Wheel at Havenstone along with being an intern," I stated. "Personally I could care less, but 'E's fate is in jeopardy."I handed the phone to the guard after motioning toward Jormo. A few seconds later, he had his own little chat with Javiera. I had a feeling it was rather heated. Was I who Hana claimed I was? Yes. Was I a criminal? No comment on ongoing investigations."Is he dangerous?"I imagine she said 'What do you consider dangerous?' because Jormo wasn't pleased. After a pause, the conversation from Javiera's side picked back up."What do you mean, 'have I crossed him?' You are a part of the Federal law enforcement process. You are paid to handle those things. Now answer me," Jormo simmered.I imagine it boiled down to 'yes, I was a dangerous human being' and 'no, I wasn't a homicidal maniac' which didn't help him much. That concluded Javiera's participation in events."Do you think you can inconvenience me, young man?" he shot his steely gaze my way."Mr. Sulkanen, there are precisely two things keeping me away from you; basic civility," I enlightened him, "and Hana.""I have discovered in a few short months that there is nothing as precious a resource as nice people. The world is overwhelmed with assholes with a highly overestimated sense of their worth in the greater scheme of things. I do not hate you, or like you. You do not register on my interpersonal radar," I said."You think you've learned some harsh life lessons, Mr. Nyilas? You don't know anything," Jormo met me anger for anger. Hana, in her short time, had gained a far better picture of me."Cáel, he is my father," Hana called to me. "You know about paternal respect, don't you?" That was a good shot on her part; painful, but not crippling."You are right, Hana. I am in your father's house and I owe him both that respect and the respect for how he treasures your person," I responded. The tension began to bleed away. Jormo wasn't an ass-hole, just driven by an iron determination to get his way. It had made him stinking rich and, I was beginning to think, outwardly ruthless.Why weren't Brooke, Libra, Estere and I being flung out of his home after our collision? Hana. That man had the same honest and trusted affection for the step-daughter that wasn't even his offspring as my father held for me. You don't mistake it once you've witnessed it. He knew this wasn't her vagina talking. He held Hana in higher regard.Hana saw something in me that made her stand up to both him and Brennan. I doubted that happened often. Hana made the call and her step-father honored it; end of the debate for now. That meant Hana, Estere and I went to find Casper and the others. Libra was helping the focus of such anguish shower off. It had been accepted there would be no police rape inquiry.Another advance, if you could call it that, had occurred in my relationship with Brooke and Libra. Their quick glances said it all- 'Get the bastards' and they expected it to get done. Like Odette and the now-deceased Latin Kings, those two didn't truly understand what that meant. In this case, most likely messy, painful deaths for those who would learn too late that a little law is a good thing; it keeps the really nasty things, like the truly lawless, at bay.There was no mention of events passing beyond my control. Those two had no idea where their wealth came from, what homes they owned outright, versus still under mortgage, or rented, and what their actual tax rate was; as opposed to the mythical 'tax bracket' the masses dreamed the rich were in.Casper came right at me, even slipping out of the towel Misty, and the newly arrived maid, tried to get around her. Why? I had gained an unanticipated affliction. Girls in the worst possible mindsets wanted to trust me. Oneida, Cameron, Wiesława and now Casper homed in on me being a gentle, honest and trustworthy soul; but damn it! I wasn't!I wrapped my arms tightly around Casper, making her feel snug, safe and warm. I lied to her. I told her things were going to be okay. We'd work things out and she'd get better in no time. No one was going to get to her while her 'real' friends were around and we promised to stick around as long as it took. This was supposed to be my vacation. I need to stop making plans for the future and avoid the disappointment from having my hopes trampled by cruel reality.(Saturday Night)The Hamptons gathering had transformed from a post-college exploration to a mature gathering. We had an adult-level task laid out before us; creating an emotional buffer zone for Casper. I gave Estere an 'out'. There would be no more 'fun time' this weekend. She elected to stay anyway.When we moved out to a cliff-side patio for dinner, Brennan and company showed up, sans Orlando and his lady. Casper tensed up, Hana and I rallied and put up a warding wall, so the cast of idiots settled for taunting Casper as she shivered behind us. Because, you know, all of this was one big joke;I had enough peripheral awareness to not get blind-sided by Casper. Hana didn't and went tumbling into Anima. Casper launched herself at Brennan. He had some under-developed martial talent while Casper was clearly driven by frantic energy alone. Brennan received a few scratches then flipped Casper over his shoulder and down hard on the patio's deck.A punch to her face was coming Casper's way when I pushed Brennan several steps back. The one scumbag who attempted to get behind me took an ice cube to the eye, courtesy of Estere. His yelp allowed me to yank Casper up and circle my arms around her."The whore scratched me," Brennan exhibited his scarred forearm. "I guess she goes to jail now."I didn't do anything and I think three of the ladies were thinking I should. Brennan snorted. Now for a lesson in community."Okay," I shrugged. "Casper can go do jail." By the depth of her whimper, that wasn't what Casper wanted at all. I looked to Libra and Brooke. Giving someone the unwarranted label of 'snob' was wrong and those two ladies were going to exhibit that.Libra hurled her drink from the patio table at Brennan. She missed but that was okay. Brooke missed as well."I guess we are going to jail with Casper," Brooke declared as they moved up. Casper wiggled around in my grasp so she could take in the scene. "We'll stick with you, Casper.""Bitches!" Brennan snapped. "What the fuck;""These people can't help you, Casper," Anima stepped up. "You are in trouble now and they don't know trouble.""You are horrible," Brooke seethed in response."Why all the hostility?" Anima gave a disarming smile. Libra had definitely tapped into her 'Inner Cáel'. That was only fair, since her 'Outer Cáel' had been tapping her pretty vigorously."Because we are better than you and you consistently fail to acknowledge that, you soulless tramp," Libra volleyed."Cáel, I apologize so much for bringing you here this weekend," Brooke touched me."I'm not," I squeezed Casper. Crap, I could use a break. It was so wrong that I suddenly wished for Monday and to be back to the work week. It was even screwier that I thought that would give me any sort of relief; it wouldn't."Touching, but foolish," Anima sighed with amusement. She pulled out her phone from her back pocket. She made a call then showed the device to Casper. "I'm sure your boyfriend will be very impressed with last night's antics. Of course, he may expect a repeat performance." Casper trembled. I rubbed her back as she sobbed into my shoulder and bicep."I'm not very impressed with your virtue," Anima sounded disappointed in me."You and your ilk deserve only two words; 'Good bye'," Estere sounded serene. "As a general instruction, anyone on this deck that I do not like and that hasn't left by the exits in the next three minutes will be flying over the railing.""This is my fucking house!" Brennan shouted."Actually, it is Dad's house, Brennan," Hana smiled."He's not your father, shit-for-brains," he snapped."Brennan, for every time you have forced your way into my life through bratty behavior; I consider this moment long overdue," Hana snorted."I'm not leaving," he took a defiant stance."Good," Hana laughed. "In; ""Two minutes 25 seconds," Estere supplied the data."I'm taking every other lady and leaving, locking the doors behind me," Hana kept grinning."Before I leave, I will ask Cáel to physically obstruct the stairs leading down the bluff," she added. "Then it will be you and Ms. Abed. She is going to kick all of your asses, I'm not letting you

Frank starts the show like he always does on Fridays: With Ask Frank Anything.  Frank is joined by stand-up comedian Fred Rubino for the hour as they talk about strange stories in the news. They are later joined by Elliott Gordon, entrepreneur, former aid to Mayor Giuliani, a producer and talent agent as they talk about Freddie Roman, Sid Bernstein bringing The Beatles to America and much more. Frank starts the third hour with denunciations for the week as Fred Rubino chimes in. They move on to talk about movies and politics with Debbie Schlussel, an attorney, author, political commentator and film critic. Frank later gives the Conspiracy of the Day on the anniversary of the assassination of JFK. Frank wraps up the show asking about parenting styles. He is also joined by Noam Laden for News You Can Use. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Living the nightmare; hungering for a normal life. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “If your heart starts the fight, you can lose without regret.”  (Thursday Night) It was well past the descent of Night's veil when the Havenstone jet landed outside of New York City. Naomi and team gathered us up and led us to the main building downtown. An unlooked for conflict developed. Naomi's team was there to present me to Hayden. Rachel's team was still focused on securing my wellbeing and they didn't like the attitude Naomi's squad was giving off. With Buffy (Helena was in a different car), there was no concealing Rachel's hostility toward the latest group of SD ladies. The new group was treating me like a 'package', not a Head of House, and that infuriated my First too. All of that ill-will simmered as we made our way to Havenstone. The situation was compounded by the elevator ride. Naomi, her team, Buffy, Rachel and I went into the first elevator. By the time we made it to the top few floors, it was clear that the rest were not immediately following along. The situation ratcheted up to nasty when Naomi demanded Buffy's firearm. Buffy looked ready to use it. "Buffy; gun," I held out my hand, palm up. Buffy reluctantly handed it over. I walked over to the nearest trash can, dropped out the clip, chambered out the first round then dumped the entirety into the trash receptacle. "If they touched it, the weapon would be fouled and not fit for a true Amazon," I explained to Buffy. "Best to save your noble tool the indignity and dispense with it instead." Buffy snorted with amusement, Naomi's crew pretended not to care while Rachel was deeply disturbed. It took a perfunctory gesture to stop Buffy outside Hayden's office. In I went to face Hayden, Katrina, Saint Marie and Troika of House Šauška alone. Šauška was the 'sister goddess' of Ishara; together they formed Ishtar in later incarnations. I didn't believe Troika was here for any sister solidarity this time around. "Why did you do this? Start a war; is this your hatred of Amazon culture shining through, trying to get us all killed in some global struggle against the other Secret Societies?" Hayden opened up with in an even tone. "No," I kept it succinct. They waited for more of an explanation. "Do you have anything you can say to defend your actions?" Troika glared. "I don't need to defend my actions," I regarded her as if she was of alien origin. "The actions speak for themselves." "Why don't you explain it to us, Ishara?" Saint Marie rumbled. Insulted yet again. As an equal, I warranted the use of my first name. "Do I have your permission to fully and completely lay out my reasoning without everyone closing in like a pack of hyenas on a leopard?" I looked to Hayden; not happy. She gave a curt nod. It wasn't like running away would get me far. "I will speak slowly because all of you appear to have become incredibly stupid," I started. "My parent and carrier of my Amazon ancestor's genetic heritage was murdered. The leader of the Amazon Security Detail identified herself, Then they were fired upon. Somehow you do not see those actions as Casus Belli. [cause for war] There are three possible reasons for your blindness: you are all cowards who bully behind closed doors, but fold up like gutless wonders when a true challenge presents itself. Or, the male penis renders you incapable of intelligent thought and induces irrational and unsustainable hostile deductions in your though processes. Or, you want me and the line of Ishara dead and are willing to accept any accident of fate that will render us so," I laid things out for them. "Or, you were in pain over your father's loss and used Havenstone as a tool to lash out at your perceived foes without concern for what price the other houses would have to pay for your personal vendetta," Hayden suggested. "Your gender bias is appalling, High Priestess  Saint James," I shook my head. "Have I been such an out of control, emotional male that yours is the logical assumption for how events unfolded?" I smirked. "Except for the meeting where I learned your secret; only Katrina caught that. I've risked death three times for Amazons; yet I hate all of you enough to kill those people and myself. Besides,  Saint James, your opinion has been rendered irrelevant." "You will call me Hayden," Hayden simmered. "I will when you and your lackeys get around to calling me Cáel," I countered. "I don't like being insulted any more than you do. I could keep up this childishness forever, but, as I was pointing out, we don't have forever. War is coming. Between my father's murder and my threats to the Condotteiri and Seven Pillars' emissaries, I've guaranteed that. Apologizing won't do any good. They won't believe you. Offering me up won't do any good. They think you hold male life to be worthless; the truth of which I am personally witnessing here and now. They are coming for you no matter what you wish. The best chance for an alliance rests with me. I can establish truly good will with the Nine Clans, Illuminati and the Earth  and  Sky. Without me, they don't trust you enough to do any good. I'm sure only Katrina believes this; I did all that alliance-building for Havenstone. I am House Ishara and the fate of the Amazons is my fate. Yet here I am, being insulted, being treated like a traitor; an infantile traitor at that, and being informed you will not honor your oaths and obligations to me," I shook my head. "Are there any other issues to discuss, or can I go home now? I'm beat." "You will be housed downstairs for your own safety," Hayden informed me. "Unless you arrest me, I'm going home," I shrugged. "Not only do I not want your protection, I have ceased to trust you. You do not treat me like a sister. Instead you accuse me of atrocities against MY people and layer on the petty insults. Goodnight." I made to leave so Saint Marie interposed herself. "That wasn't a request, Ishara," Hayden murmured with menace. "Beat me up," I chuckled, "and you will be more screwed than you know." The Golden Mare and I locked gazes. I tried to move around her so she put a hand on my chest. "Welcome to the consequences of being known liars and bigots, ladies." "I am tiring of your insolence," Saint Marie growled. "Runners'," Katrina sighed with melancholy amusement. "What about them?" Troika mocked. "The majority of the 'Runners' aren't going to see this as the Council punishing Cáel for starting the upcoming conflict," Katrina chided her cohorts. "They are going to see the Full-blooded shutting down the Only House letting them in. Going to war? They are willing to fight and die for our cause. They assume we are too," Katrina regaled her unwilling audience. "Pleased with yourself, Ish; Cáel," Hayden's eyes narrowed. "He has almost nothing to do with it, Sisters," Katrina chortled. "We were the ones who promised to let the 'Runners' join the houses then reneged on that promise. The worst you can say about Cáel was that only after we picked out, loaded and handed him the gun, did he use it for what it was intended for." "We are not punishing him for this 'Runner' insult," Troika spat. She meant my 'hasty' inductions. "Then why are we punishing him; and thank you for making Cáel's point for him; 'Runner' insult indeed. Since your disgraceful attitude is overwhelmingly common, the 'Runners' are not going to believe your excuse for dealing with Cáel." "Katrina," Hayden cautioned. "Hayden, as your 'First Bearer of the Sun Spear through the Halls of Night and Death', I am required to give you this news," Katrina bowed her head in reverence. "I tell you Cáel's actions have been a lightning rod for the 'Runners'. He gives them hope where there was none. Putting Cáel down will have repercussions you do not understand. They will then 'Know' for a certainty we look down on them and treat them little better than slaves; which is the truth," Katrina responded to the others. "Not only are we going to war, we are successfully convincing half our population that they Cannot trust the Council to spend their lives wisely." "How dare you?" Saint Marie seethed at me. "Are you seriously blaming me for keeping the oaths the rest of you made in my name; while Ishara was dead to the Council?" I laughed. "The 'Runners' are your idea, Saint Marie, not mine. You promised to bring them into the Houses ; and didn't. You lied and I chose to not perpetuate that lie, thus honoring my ancestors, my founder and my Goddess." "Do I need to remind you who Ishara is? The Goddess of Oaths; particularly military oaths," I added. "In case you missed it, I am implying that you have failed your ancestors;” and I went flying. Damn, Saint Marie was fast. I rolled as best as I could, ending bumping into Hayden's desk. No one said a word which I found tragically consistent. My follow-up pain wasn't 'Mare' induced. Spiritual flames consumed me internal organs, causing me to cry out in torment and vomit copious amounts of something. I was cradled inside a horror film as first my esophagus, then stomach and finally my intestines seemed to flush forth from my lips. The stench was beyond horrid; putrid and corrupt combined with the atrocious odor of bloated flesh left to rot in the Sun for weeks. Considering the minimal amount I had eaten on the flight home, I was even more baffled by what felt like 100 liter quantity of discharge. When the ordeal eventually ended, I half-rose then flopped backwards into darkness. I hurt. I hurt in the same way you have 'pins and needles', except mine were industrial capacity and giving it 110%. My head was resting at a slight incline and someone was flipping a lock of my bangs on and off my forehead. I opened my eyes into infinity; seriously worse agony consumed my brain pan. "That is too much for you to know, Cáel," she murmured. Those eyes had been feminine, just not in a human way and definitely filled with more joy and suffering than could be granted by a thousand lifetimes. The pain faded, so I tried the whole eye thing again. At the top of the lap that cradled my head was a really nice pair of boobs clothed in thin wool; lush, mature, yet firm like a young virgin's. "Thank you," she lilted. Mind-reading? "Do I want to know what has happened to me?" I groaned. I reached for a boob because if it was a toxin-induced delusion, what was the worst that can happen? "Careful, I haven't been with a male in 1800 years, my Preciously Odd Amazon," she laughed. "I like challenges," I bantered with my mental conjuration. Definitely mind-reading. "I am not the creation of your fevered dreams, my Cáel," she flicked my nose. "I have pushed you near death to place a curse on the Host. As a side benefit, I am able to have metaphysical contact with you." "To date you, I have to have a near-death experience? I don't know if I should admire 1800 years of male common sense, or that last guy who risked everything for one night with you," I shrugged. "So much compassion; and so little fear," she petted my scalp. "Since you clearly aren't getting into the name game and I am more than happy to doubt everything I've experienced in the past five minutes," I smiled at her, "what am I supposed to do?" "You know," she smiled back. "No, I don't," I insisted. "Something extra-concise that doesn't come from a fortune cookie." "I've always wanted to eat a fortune cookie," she looked away. "I'll start walking around with one in my pocket so next time you nearly kill me, you can indulge," I offered. "Save my people, Cáel," she placed her hand over my eyes. "Save their spirits." "A bit of help would be nice," I pressed forward blindly. "I've given you help," she whispered on my lips. Since I didn't consider that to be helpful, I opted to give a gentle twist to her nipple. Either something was really going on inside my head, acting as a conduit between me and something else, or I was experiencing a psychotic break with reality. If it was the former, I was a Class-A idiot. If it was the latter, it was me being me, rolling the dice with the pretty girl. "I wanted you to be brave," she laughed melodically, the echo of every woman I'd ever given a reason to sing out with joy, "yet now I find myself wishing you would expend a tiny bit more caution on my behalf." Sensing my dissatisfaction, she added "I cannot give you 'the' truth, so I will give you 'a' truth. Nothing is set in the future while much is foreseen." "As long as you know I've disappointed every women I've ever been with," I reminded her, my eyes still shielded and her lips tantalizingly close to mine. "Oh, you like to think you are selfish, Cáel Nyilas of Vranus and Ishara, but you justifiably take pride in the sensuality you bring to so many women's lives," she pointed out. "Many lovers are far more truthful yet far less giving," she said. "Pain heals while an education is forever," I countered. Another joyous note. "It is time for you to wake up, my Cáel," she sighed. "Go now." Wakefulness required a return to the putrid qualities of my current surroundings. I forced myself to my knees. No one did anything; no reaction, or assistance, so it fell to me to save myself. "What; what was that?" Troika nearly retched at the stench. Katrina stood, visibly pale and shaken. "Hayden?" Katrina requested of her leader. "Cáel, what have you done?" Hayden snapped. She also stood up so she could look down at me from her desk. I mumbled something. Even I wasn't sure what I was trying to say. The last touch of a lady far chillier than the one in Chicago caressed me and I knew the gist of what had happened. Why was I the one suffering at the hands of my Goddess? I was the easiest to get at because I was already devoted to her, her chosen children and I was Patron and Head of the house dedicated to her honor. The forecasted ass-kicking wasn't aimed at me, though. I was the necromantic shotgun barrel into this reality. Too many bitches had spat on me, her hand-picked patsy and punching bag, and her temper was beyond sending some vague signs and portents to the Host. I didn't know the particulars of this curse, yet I didn't doubt for a second it was both fiendishly evil and well-deserved. My jacket, shirt and tie were goners. The lower part of my tie which had been thoroughly drenched in my vomit was already decaying into filth, soon passing into nothingness. I tried speaking again. "Having exhibited no faith in me, you have committed apostasy to Ishara," issued the words from my acid-scared throat. "You are condemned to live with that choice. Good night." I fumbled and stumbled to Hayden's door, weakly opened one of the two double doors and left. The confrontation I had departed outside remained in force; Naomi and detail versus Rachel and Buffy. Helena, and a former 'Runner' named Madori who worked at Havenstone HQ with us, had not been sent up. "I am going home," I rasped. With no orders to keep me there, Naomi let me pass. Rachel and Buffy closed in. "Boss, you smell like;” Buffy searched for words. "A red tide," Rachel said. "All those dead fish floating on the water for days and days; it is that level of horrible smell." "Rachel," I stated as we got on the elevator, "thank you for the loyalty, intelligence and understanding you have given me in this trying time." "I am a member of the Host, Ishara. I would do no less for Hayden herself; but you are welcome," she sighed. "How about we postpone our date night until I've cleared up a few things with the Council and Ishara?" I suggested. Rachel nodded. I briefly talked to Helena over the phone, went with Buffy to the basement where she checked out a car then sat back as she drove me home. I must have looked like a disaster because Buffy didn't give me an ounce of grief. Home was home now. There was a house with my name on it now, but it wasn't my hearth; this mid-town, 'just above the poverty line' apartment was definitely home now. I would suspect that business travel was like a clothes dryer; you mystically pulled out less clothes than you put in. I was coming back with twice the amount of luggage I had departed with Odette would be home in an hour, so it was me and Timothy for a bit. "Hey Bro," Timothy greeted me. He set down one of those fanciful Asian vegetable mish-mashes that he liked from time to time, stood up and gave me a hug. "How bad was it?" "Let's just say I finished it up this evening by vomiting all over the Big Boss's rug, and that was the highlight of the trip," I mumbled. "That would explain your bare-chested look," Timothy snorted. I had been so out of it, I had spaced on the need to put on clothes like a normal human being. "Something to eat?" "Nah, my insides were spewed forth, so I'm foregoing food for a while," I mumbled. That reminded me. I went to the bathroom and gargled repeatedly with mouthwash. I could still smell the aromatic abomination, but at least I couldn't taste it anymore. "Do we want to go down the lists of women who have called you?" Timothy was trying to cheer me up. I wanted to be cheered up so I told him to go right ahead. Brooke and Libra; an immediate call back with the briefest of details; no weekend date for Brooke and I yet. Jason, the bar-back I had met chasing down Katy Lee, had called. I dialed his number and we had a short chat. He and his buddies were coming along well, I was invited back any time, and the Latin Kings had gotten the message because they hadn't been around since. I requested he and his friends keep their eyes open just in case and I'd be around for another pick-up game soon enough. Since most of those LK's were dead and the remainder scattered, I wasn't worried about Jason. Nikita; I called and she 'agreed' to come over. I was too fatigued to fight her off. Ulyssa called and I had to inform her that this weekend didn't look good for me; funeral and all. I initiated contact with Nicole. She was still wrapping up some of my business in Chicago and would be gone until Saturday morning. Timothy crashed for the evening, I was nibbling on some of his fodder and the doorbell rang. A check at the peephole revealed Nikita. She came in, hugged and I could sense something was definitely wrong. We were back to first date material. We hadn't been separated long enough; crap. I gave us space on the sofa. "That was incredibly fast," I groaned. "What tipped them off?" "What do you mean?" Nikita tried to scoot down the sofa to me. I held her off with one hand. "I am hardly one to uphold honesty in a relationship, but I normally consider it a selfish endeavor and not done for the benefit of a third, unrelated party," I sadly met her eyes. "Cáel, what do you?" Nikita stammered. "You are not a very good liar," I pointed out. "You are wearing a wire of some kind?" "Have you done something wrong?" Nikita evaded. "My loss," I moped. "All I wanted was the semblance of a normal life and now that's gone down the tubes." "Nikita, what do you want to drink?" I restarted the whole fiasco. Drinks were served and we kept to our separate ends of the sofa talking about mindless shit until Odette showed up. Then I could politely show Nikita the door and be with someone who did care about me. We made slow, passionate love. I gave her orgasms and giggles with the added benefit I felt more human when we finally fell asleep. (Friday) The morning started out with the same routine. I pulled up various routes for my bike ride into work, chose none of them and off I went in the pre-dawn dark blue/grey sky. I came within 20 seconds of my best time, so I was feeling pretty positive about what lay ahead. Security was a full 180 from their normally sour selves. "Good morning, Cáel Ishara," the security team (not Security Detail) leader greeted me. That was part 'thanks for letting my sister 'Runners' into a house' and 'maybe pick me next time.' "Good morning, Wilma Draper," I nodded back. I went to the counter and leaned in. I needed to fortify my supportive base and I knew how to do it. "You do realize I don't choose who joins House Ishara, don't you?" I addressed her softly yet loud enough for the two closest security women to hear. "You do not?" the woman appeared perplexed. "No," I shook my head in the negative. At that moment she wondered if this was a trick of the Council. Good girl. "The senior Amazons of House Ishara chose the next candidates. I make the ritual appeal to Ishara, of course. Selection remains in the hands of former 'Runners' who nominate the 'Runners' who have proven themselves. I was inspired to initiate Buffy and Helena because I had enough faith in them to believe they knew Havenstone and what House Ishara needed. The Amazons in the second ritual were all Buffy and Helena's choices. I think those two and the latest group Ishara has approved of, will make the perfect judges for picking future 'Runners' of accomplishment and worth; not only for House Ishara, but for the new Amazons who have risked everything for our People," I piled on the propaganda. She nodded. The two closest security guards nodded as well. Off I went to the gun range. With less than a minute worth of words, I had reinforced my perfection. I wasn't a male. I was a male with a passel of hardcore, praiseworthy Amazons working around me, insulating me from committing any errors and making all the important decisions while I behaved like a bobble-headed doll. The range was back to 'normal' except I could smell the chemicals this time out. Whatever concrete and surface coating substances they had used to repair my grenade-inspired damage left my nose with a terrible itch. I had a gun selection today. I had no instructor yet was hopeful. I packed up my 40 caliber, my back-up 3 80, the combat shotgun and my Personal Defense weapon then headed out. I patiently waited behind one of the stations, soaking up the view of medium gray yoga pants worn by a woman who presented a meticulously crafted, awesome bubble-butt to the world. After she finished off one magazine, the Amazons looked over her shoulder at me. Horn-dog time. The woman smiled as she motioned me forward. We put my weapons on the stand and prepared for school. "I am Wiesława of House Živa," she smirked playfully. By the Almighty, she had a thick Polish accent, rich lips, russet hair and 'come hither' eyes. I was prepping for some early 'nookie' time. "Hello, I am Ash Ketchum and I have an unhealthy relationship with free-roaming, anthropomorphic creatures," I replied as we clasped forearms Amazon-style. As Wiesława was trying to puzzle that out, an Amazon from an adjoining booth came over and punched me in the arm. I couldn't even recall this one's name though I knew that face and physique. "Stop that, Cáel," the woman chastised me. "She's new here." "I thought he was bringing me more weapons to use. Was this male being insolent?" Wiesława tried to put things in their proper place. "Should he be disciplined?" At least she wasn't taking me being beaten as her Goddess-given right. "No, Wiesława. This is Cáel Ishara, Head of House Ishara, he brought those weapons for His use and most likely came to your station looking for instruction," the unnamed Amazon stated. "Does this mean we are passed that whole 'grenade launcher' thing?" I inquired of the women. "We are not sure. For now we have decided to not pre-judge you since you remain consistently combative no matter what. Constanza is recovering," she tacked on. "Good," I grinned. "How soon can she return to duty? I imagine she makes a lousy patient." Pause. The 'Constanza' bit had been a test. I had a feeling that my emotional tendency to spare lives and show mercy was getting around. It wasn't the Amazon way, though it did mean Constanza would remain alive for a while longer when it was generally accepted she should not. "She will have to retrain her vision. Her doctors are hopeful," the woman responded. "That is for the best. I do hope there are no ill intentions toward Pamela," I warned her. "Such a vengeance would be personal and I would feel no obligation to treat those criminals as I would my fellow Amazons; are we clear?" "It has been made expressly clear that this issue is at an end," she bowed slightly. "Let us commit this to the 'nothingness'," was my suggestion. The two Amazons twitched. That was a phrase straight out of their cultural playbook. Both nodded, the familiar Amazon left and I turned back to Wiesława. "Do you still want a go at training me?" I asked the Pole. "Yes; yes, I would like that," she gave me a bright, toothy white smile. "I find you interesting." Off I went again. Wiesława was diligent and definitely 'hands-on'. Twenty minutes into the training one of my familiar SD firing partners showed up. "Don't let him take his clothes off," Felicité teased me. Her Congolese French contrasted erotically with Wiesława's Polish. "His clothes come off?" Wiesława seemed puzzled. "How is that accomplished?" "A deeply scientific, psychological process," Felicité teased my latest friend/fish in the barrel. "Cáel, take off your clothes," she commanded me. I gave her a haughty, condescending glare. "Please." My biking shirt came off first then my biking slippers and finally the shorts. "Your turn," I regarded Wiesława. She shot a look to Felicité. Her sports bra was millimeters from exposing her goodies when my Congolese tormentor stepped in. "You don't have to take off your clothes for him," she intervened. "But I like seeing you ladies naked," I protested. Felicité patted my package. "We like seeing you naked too. Now put on your pants before a hot shell casing creates yet another incident," Felicité teased me again. A great chasm of misunderstanding had been bridged since Friday. The grenade-launcher was part of it, yet I think Rachel and Velma were far more constructive than I could have been. Velma had seen me in crisis mode. I hadn't panicked. I had seen to my partner (though she was an inconsequential female) and been cool throughout the process in Katrina's office as Velma and her four team members had overheard. Rachel, Charlotte, Mona and Tiger Lily had probably given a different story; less professional and more human. That must have worked in my favor. A stone-cold bad-ass would have been more worrisome; a challenge. No, I had been shaken, irrational, brave and grieving. I had fought an assassin of the Nine Clans and not lost (thus not an embarrassment to a culture I didn't really belong to; until that moment). I had insulted the Condotteiri and the Seven Pillars, who were universally hated. I had been nice to the Earth  and  Sky and Illuminati, who they didn't like much, but could be handy if a war did break out. I had been 'friendly' to the Egyptians and Nine Clans, who the Amazon rank and file did approve of. The SD had no doubts; they were looking at a war. Unlike their leadership, the Security Detail was anticipating this, even anxious for the test. Fighting is what they spent their whole lives training for. Thirty years had passed since the last major clash between Havenstone and the others. For the youngest, this was the ultimate chance to prove their training had been perfect. For the oldest members of the SD, this was the culmination of a lifetime's devotion. 'Take themselves to the cliffs'? Not now. Now came the chance to make every burn, bullet hole, stab wound and piece of shrapnel worth it. Their Host lavished care and resources on the Security Detail; their Warrior Elite; and they were about to reward that glorification with a fervor only female's with 3000 years of martial tradition could match. Like me? Allowable yet not required. Respect me? Constanza was their lesson on respect. Obedience? No. Rachel had most assuredly related my contact with the 'Runners' and Buffy, so they could hit me like they could no other Head of Household; as long as it was 'appropriate'. Since they were not forced to give me full equality, they could stomach my 'almost' equality. Think of it as being able to punch your manager at work in the arm whenever you thought they were doing something stupid. Imagine how much worker morale would benefit. By stepping up and taking a punch, or two, I bought myself and House Ishara much more respect than a snippy insistence on etiquette would have ever done. Bringing 'Runners' into a First House? The SD wasn't jumping for joy. Here, the SD's sense of superiority worked in Ishara's favor. What did it matter to them that a few 'Runners' had been exalted to Full-blooded status? SD was the best of the best. That they were the best of the 'best available until now' hadn't occurred to them yet. All that circled back to Felicité playing with me, no one taking exception to me making a play for Wiesława and the return of the firing range to an educational platform for me. As I had told Oneida, 'defeat starts in the mind'. Along with that came 'Victory starts with a plan', and 'seize the moment'. I was aiming for seizing victory in the flesh. I bent over to put my pants back on. Since Felicité was departing for jobs-unknown, I ran the pants, and my hand, along Wiesława's inner right thigh. By the look in her eyes when I was finished, she didn't mind in the slightest. At the end of my allotted time period, my marksmanship had improved and Wiesława was mine for the taking. What bothered me was that it felt too easy somehow. Weird huh; that 'easy' would bother me. "You don't hang around men much?" I questioned the Pole as the weapons were being put away. "No," she sighed. "The last male in my hold died eight years ago. That is one reason I was re-assigned here," she informed me. "What department are you with?" I asked as we waited on the elevator. "Security Detail," she answered. "Fantastic," I murmured. "Elsa is a great boss. The two of us get along great." "Really? That is good news," Wiesława sounded upbeat. "How close are you?" Hint, hint. "Like the Cobra and the Mongoose," I grinned. Into the elevator we went. "I'll let you figure out which is which." "You are the Cobra," she patted my thinly covered cock. Yay! No personal boundaries. Less I forget I was still on the list of approved prey animals the door opened on the first floor and Brielle, her buddy, and Oneida stepped onboard. I had no clue where Wiesława was supposed to go. I guessed she was along for the ride. "Good morning, Cáel," Brielle greeted me before licking my left nipple. Wiesława was confused; could she have been licking me, and getting licked by me, half an hour ago? "What are you doing?" Oneida squawked. "Yum; someone has been to the gun range this morning," Brielle smiled at me. "Oh, and; sorry about your paternal person," she hastily added. "They are called Fathers," I sighed. To defuse Oneida, I slipped a hand to the small over her back then wiggled three fingers between the top of her skirt and panties. It was 'dangerous' enough to give her pause before going after the other women. "It is good to see your new, exalted status hasn't gone to your head, Cáel Ishara," Brielle looked very naughty. "Sisters first, last and always," I responded. "I'm not going to take credit for my ancestors being kick ass." "They must have been very courageous women," Wiesława stated. I snorted. "Wiesława, my Ishara lineage goes down the male side of the family, so those lethal ancestors were all male," I chided her. "When the Dacian-Thracians moved into the region, they joined with those tribes fighting the Celts. Later, they joined with the Dacian kings and fought against the Romans. Germans, Avars, Bulgars and finally the Magyars came their way; my ancestors impressed them all enough to be accepted. I know this because my Father's name was Nyilas, which means Archer in the Magyar tongue. We were fighters under the Arpad dynasty the same way we had gone to war with our Amazon War leaders thousands of years earlier. I also know this because of my bloodline; if the female folk had been raped, the bloodline would have perished," I explained. "Where exactly was your family from?" Wiesława inquired. "My grandfather said we Nyilas' were from Székelys Lands in Northern Romania," I replied. "My great-grandfather grew up under the Romanian King, hated it and died fighting as a Hungarian soldier against the Soviets in World War II," I continued. "That is why my great-grandmother took her children and came to America. They had lost their homeland in her opinion. Dad said she was bitter until the day she died," I sighed over my forerunners intransience. "She even wanted to be buried at her home town of Szászrégen," I let them know. "That never happened." The elevator door opened, I waved good-bye to friends new and old then raced to Katrina's bathroom. Katrina was at her desk, working away. "Cáel," Katrina acknowledged my passage with a wave of her hand. "Hayden and I have been examining a list of possible; " "That boat has sailed, Katrina," I cut her off. "I'll take care of my business without Hayden's help, thank you very much. I know you tried to warn her. I should have known there was no use dealing with the Council in any way, shape, or form. There isn't." I paused. "Tell your allies that there will be many in House Ishara and Warrior-Fathers too." "Aren't you worried in the least?" Katrina requested. "We both know that some of these bitches want to face their end like the lead characters in a Wagnerian opera. All we can do is remind them they are traitors to their Race, not patriots to some modern day concoction of a cult of gender blood purity," I stated, "as we work to save our people." "Those 'Old Guard' broads have forgotten what an Amazon is supposed to be," I explained. "And a man is going to show us the way?" Katrina studied me with emotionless intent. "Yes," I muttered. "A man who prefers love over hate and counts his worth by the lives he saves, not the one's he takes." "Do you ever fear this 'softness' will weaken your masculinity?" Katrina mused. That hurt; not because of her words, which could be true for any man. It hurt because the bastion against such thinking had just died. "My only fear is that I won't live up to my father's example," I responded. "Not only as a man and a father in my time, but as a human being," I delved into the wounded portion of my soul. "He never went to college, served in the military, or even got into a fight until that last minute of his life. He covered for co-workers with family issues, never failed to answer a call out to work in inclement weather, and did all that normal boring shit few here even understand. He let me be weak and let me be strong. His greatest lesson was that no matter where my life led, I had to take responsibility for it. The strong ask for help. The weak ask for someone to do the task for them. Love is not a word. Love is the star you chart your life by. The worst weakness is letting fear stop you from pursuing what you want. That is what I have to measure up to," I finished. In the interim, several of the new hires showed up and were observing the spiel. "I would think he would be happy if you measured up to what you wanted out of life," Katrina said. "I aim to do both," I grinned. I went to the bathroom and quickly changed into my work attire. The meeting started on time with the additional of a gnat-bite; Dora was two minutes late. At the time, nothing seemed out of sorts to me. It was a day on the job with Rosette. Around 3:30 pm, Pamela stopped our knife training (her with her wand and me with my weighted, wooden blade). She went to the corner of the room, ran her finger along the central point and drew back a finger with dust on it. She raised the finger so I could clearly see it. "It's dust?" I shrugged. "Normally they do a much better job," Pamela noted and back to training we went. The nightmare became real with one phrase in common usage: 'I'll get to it when I can', one Runner told Desiree when Desiree gave her a task. One of the most fascinating things in my book about Havenstone was that it hummed along like a well-oiled, organic machine. Tasks were completed, back-ups were always on call, and promptness wasn't a virtue; I was the absolutely expected. "What did you say?" Desiree asked for confirmation. "I said I'll get right on it," the woman sighed. I caught the look in Desiree's eyes. Something was wrong, but she couldn't put a name to it. Oaths and obligations; the lubricant for patently lethal Amazon society. Those words tossed out without too much consideration were now fraying around the edges. This wasn't the Plague, boils, lesions, leprosy, rickets, or the Home Loan bubble bursting. Those you could fight. How did you counter the devaluation of someone's word? Ishara's curse was crawling toward a very bad end unless I did something, but what? Personal respect would remain. Hierarchy? Amazons would begin to question why they were prioritizing their lives around someone they didn't know, or knew and didn't like. We weren't at that final destination, yet it was coming, and best of all, every woman in the company had a weapon, or quick access to one. A phone call grabbed me before I went in for the 'end of day' meeting. It was Brooke. "Christopher Cáel-umbos," I murmured. "Economy Class Oriental tours. How may I help you?" Laughter; and more than Brooke's. "Libra and I were getting ready to head out to the Hamptons and wanted to give you one last chance to come along," Brooke pleaded. An impressive dicking indeed. Thousands of reasons not to go; safety, responsibility, risk for other; "Sure, I'd love to come along. Can you pick me up at Havenstone at 6:10 pm? We'll make a quick run to my place to pick up some stuff and then head out, unless that's too late?" I offered. "See you then, Cáel," Brooke purred. "See you," Libra called out as well. It was a loathsome indicator of how out of control my life was ;  that me, a working class kid, was going on a romp with two rich, high society girls to some mansion for a weekend of hedonistic fun; because that was more 'normal' than my week had been. I entered the meeting, took my teasing and made for the gym. This hour was devoted to a hardcore workout and nothing but. Rapid repetitions, quick shifts, rolling through the muscle groups. Even a few of the dedicated lifters gave me appreciative looks. I didn't have the time today. I hit the showers and made the doors before I hit a snag. Security held me up yet again. They seemed nervous, so I asked and got a bottled water and made some jokes. These ladies were going to be my allies, damn it, before I was done. Troika caught up with me a minute later. She extended a handful of round, brownish-yellow balls in a necklace. Each ball had a symbol inscribed on it. "We received this and a message this morning," she snapped. "We have decided to reject it." "It is horse-hoof," Pamela whispered in my ear. The gears went spinning. There was one person I knew who would send me keratin scrimshaw jewelry. Those nasty bitches were piling on the stupid. I looked it over; it was old, maybe going as far back as Timur aka Tamerlane to the English-speaking world. The 'cord' was made of hair; probably horse tail hair. I had no reciprocal gift to offer; absolutely nothing this valuable. But wait, I did! Somewhere there was a Havenstone bureau, department, or office that hung on to the artifacts ALL the Houses had accumulated over the passage of years. Some of that shit was mine; Ishara's. Our house had expired before the colonies became states. That still equated to a long period of pack-ratting. I'd put a minion on it right away! I'd pray that they didn't have plans for the weekend; later. "It arrived this morning and you are only giving it to me now?" I grumbled. "That message was meant for me, not for any of the rest of you. Where is the rest of it? Oh, and you're on the list." "It was consumed in its examination," Troika blatantly lied. "You have a visual copy," Pamela sounded bored. "Give it to him." "I do not carry such things around on a handheld device," Troika parried. "Ah; that's theft," Pamela gave a slender grin. "Just so we are clear." "If Cáel Ishara wished to put forth such an accusation to Hayden, I will be prepared to defend my actions," Troika gave a hostile glare right back. "That won't be necessary," I snorted. "I'm good. Pamela, I'm out for the weekend. Have fun." I turned and walked away. "Count the days, Troika," Pamela menaced. "I'm not afraid," she countered. "I don't care, but in 21 days, Cáel's ban on internal conflict will be at an end. Like me, he will not go to a corrupted Hayden for justice. We will be exacting it in our own way and in our own time. That you should worry about," Pamela gave a tilt of the head, a feral grin and joined me in departing. In Hittite, she said;  "A matron, 21 Runners and one archaic mistake," Troika joked. In Hittite, she said; "But how many more 'Runners' can he recruit between now and then?" one of Troika's bodyguards worried. "More than enough to raise your daughters after you are all gone and forgotten," Pamela shouted over her shoulder. (Starting Friday Evening in the Wrong Damn Place) Waiting outside for me were two beauties and a small car. I hefted my bike, detached the front wheel for easier storage and climbed into the Lilliputian backseat. "Sorry," Libra in the passenger seat sounded embarrassed. "I'm not sure Brooke and I thought this through. Do you have a seat belt?" She was referring to the rear-mounted cup holder I was sitting in. "This is not rated for human occupation," I grinned back. What that really meant was there were three conflicting emotions pulling events along. Wanting me to fuck them; the easy one. Loyalty to your social/sorority sister; the relationship under stress. Me being a 'suitable' human being; the one that they were both stumbling toward which made the second emotional force such a problem. Had I solely been a fuck toy for either one, the other could have gracefully exited the field (with the occasional sharing). I was far from 'husband' material yet I was closing in on being the 'crossing a crowded club to greet me' kind of guy; already passed the 'not embarrassed to introduce me to their friends' phase. "You can sit in my lap," Brooke offered. With her driving and our height differential; we'd be lucky to be pulled by the PD before we wrecked. "How about you drive, I sit in Libra's seat and she sits in my lap?" I offered. "That's no fun," Brooke shot me a pout. "It sounds like fun for me," Libra giggled. "Now Libra remember, for the seat belt to be effective, you will have to sit facing me;” I sighed. "Facing you?" she winked. "Yes; facing me naked," I assured her. "Hey!" Brooke protested. "How come she gets to be naked in your lap?" "Otherwise me being naked would be pretty pointless," I explained. "Libra," Brooke demanded, "you get to drive." Petty arguments and playful exchanges followed. I left a message for Timothy and Odette, letting them know I was heading out to some address on the far end of Long Island. I even shot myself in the foot with the Nerf gun and told Timothy so he'd feel better. Brooke and Libra were dressed similarly. Red and khaki almost 'short-shorts', white/yellow bikini tops under white wife-beaters covered with a denim shirt (sleeves rolled up) and white cargo short-sleeved shirt, tennis socks and canvas shoes. In a way, I was a victim of my own success. Both ladies wanted to fuck me bad, but their desire to prove to me I was more than a fuck toy meant I didn't get sex at my place. If you are a girl, that will make much more sense. The car ride out was an issue. If I drove, Brooke and Libra promised to put on a Sapphic display for the ages. If Libra drove, I promised to publically molest Brooke at every stop. The reverse went for Brooke driving. The solution was that the girls would take turns driving and I would be a truly diligent cunnilinguist, with a strong background as an anatomically astute Braille harpsichord player. Our destination turned out to be the hamlet of Sagaponack, aka the most expensive place to live in the United States. Why was I doing this to myself? For starters, Brooke thought our host, Brennan Sulkanen, lived in one of those $50+ million homes; funny, I thought those were called estates. The girls laughed when I told them that. My utter lack of forethought, underutilized intelligence gathering capabilities, and even not acting my age were coming back to chew a huge hunk off my heine now. Brennan was a fraternity brother of Trent; warning indicator #1. Brennan didn't actually do anything, but his father was loaded; situation getting worse. Brennan was the youngest of the three sons from the first marriage with three other children from two other marriages waiting in the wings. A quick search revealed that the third and current Mrs. Sulkanen, was very elegant for a thirty-two year old lady. His current Mom being the same age as his oldest brother could be an issue. I was living proof how good parenting could help build up a child. Improper parenting; could do the opposite. Nothing was guaranteed though. "So, why are we going to Brennan's?" I hazarded to inquire as we cruised down Highway 27 through East Patchogue. In the back of my mind, I realized I was due south of scenic Doebridge and their frisky policewomen/Stasi law enforcers. "Oh, we met in college when I came up for one of Trent's; that loser; frat functions," she told us. "He was very drunk and tried to hit on me," the tale continued. "How and where did he 'hit' on you?" I prodded. "He stumbled into the Ladies' room, knocked my drink over and tried to give me his, but I was insulted by his inebriated pawing and left," Brooke said. Lone drunk men DO stumble into Ladies' rooms; usually to vomit. Frat brothers hit on each other's girls; men are pigs. Greeks are pigs with tie pins and secret handshakes. Drunk people do not demolish another person's drink then offer up their own. The spilling of alcohol is a drink-worthy event which you can't do if you have given your drink away. Man math: Brennan stalked Brooke, ambushed her in the bathroom and tried to roofie her with his drink because our host was a dirt bag and a total ass-bandit. How had I failed to do some basic 4 1 1 on this bastard? Oh yeah, brought an extinct First House to life, multiple threats to my well-being, treated like crap by most of my co-workers and then my father was murdered. "I repeat; why are we going to this guy's house?" I asked. "He's been persistent ever since Trent bailed and he sounds so worried about me," she answered. "Oh, I don't want you to think I'm using you as Brennan-deterrent, Cáel," she added. "I wanted to get out of the city and be with you; and Libra." I was more than Brennan-deterrent alright. I was a 'Highway Closed Indefinitely' sign for his edification. This was okay with Brooke (and me) because of all the sex we were going to have. "Thanks," Libra teased her pal. My dilemma was that despite all the positive emotions wafting my way, I wasn't one of 'them' yet. I couldn't simply say 'this dude is a scumbag. Let's go somewhere else.' This was going to take some tact and pretty much annihilated my hopes for a weekend to unwind. I had to play nice and at the first opportunity pull our host aside and politely inform him that I was going to floss his teeth with his still functioning intestines if any of us partook of something we hadn't asked for, ended up in some spot we hadn't wanted to go to, and/or doing something we didn't want to do. My diplomatic approach was from some movie that was way before CGI. It was ('you' meaning 'me': 'I want you to be nice; until it is time; to not be nice.') I was going to give Brennan's survival instincts the benefit of the doubt. I felt certain he wasn't enchanted with the idea of personal pain and I was going to let him know there wasn't a bank account deep enough to protect him from my wrath. If there was ever any doubt; I'm an idiot. We pulled up to the gate right before eight. Yes; one of those nice wrought-iron, automatic opening double gates. Brooke answered the security screen and in we went. Two people, definitely staff, met us as we parked. There was six cars present already, all variations of the high-performance, turbo-charged, 'Daddy/Mommy don't love me so they gave me this deathtrap instead' ideal. Cargo space? Fuel efficiency? Excessive safety features? Not a concern for this crowd. There was a momentary bout of confusion as the male staffer came for my baggage. I thanked him. He looked at me funny. Brooke insisted the female staffer give directions to where her/Libra's luggage was going so I did the same with the guy. My stuff was not only not heading to Brooke's room, I was being banished to another branch of this sprawling villa. "Take my stuff to their room," I directed the man. "Sir, a different room has been set aside for the gentleman," he insisted. "Oh; okay," I nodded. I took my bags from him, much to his surprise, and followed the 'maid'. Brooke and Libra laughed at my obstinacy and tagged along. Our introduction to the 'pack' was delayed and, by his look, Brennan wasn't happy with my detour. I wasn't happy either, but for a different reason. "Brooke; Libra, right? Cecil?" he clearly was disrespecting me straight out of the gates. Brooke and Libra said 'hi'. I was a little less diplomatic and I was staring down the barrels of a serious crimp in my main battle plan. There were two dissipated young ladies, three men of the same caliber and two guys I identified hangers-on. Most likely rich; just not rich enough to be treated as equals by the majority. Then there was this one girl who was certainly the unsuspecting party favor. You can learn all kinds of thing about the darker side of male-female relationships at Spring Break if you pay attention. The vacation can be wonderful, but seeing fuck-head bottom-feeders getting girls wasted for the eternal glory of Girls Gone Wild and the ability to stick their prick into someplace it doesn't belong, and they haven't earned the right to be in, truly sucks. For the moment, I had to look past her. The focus of my anxiety was a couple, both African-American and from a different mold than everyone else there. I knew the guy because he was somewhat famous. "Hey Bitch," I replied in an off-handed manner. "What?" Brennan hammed up his confusion. The 'Home Alone' gasp. What had he done wrong? "What?" I responded. "Did you just call me a 'bitch'?" he clarified. "No," I lied. "I didn't even know you were talking to me. Hi, I'm Cáel Nyilas. Who are you again?" "I think you called me a bitch," Brennan watched his whole weekend plan to dispose of me coming gift wrapped here in the opening round. He looked to the 'famous' guy. I am an idiot. "Well, with your family money, I'm sure you can hire top notch Otolaryngologist to handle that hearing problem of yours," I grinned. "Orlando, what do you think Kibble here said?" Brennan indicated the guy. "Orlando Keyes," I smiled. "Man, you are one mean son of a bitch. That fighter from Ecuador; missed his name; you broke his left cheek with one hit during that MMA bout in New Orleans last Thanksgiving. The only thing almost as impressive was that guy managed to stand up afterwards." No, I wasn't buttering this guy up. There was no point. I only knew about him because the whole 'martial ardor' doesn't have to be yours to get some tail. Girls who like watching physical combat; MMA, Kick-boxing, Boxing, and the NHL (WWE if they are somewhat gullible); will jump on your bones at the completion of that match. "I think this cunt called you his bitch," Orlando came my way. I gently pushed Brooke and Libra aside to give me space. "You are mistaken," I kept smiling at Orlando. "I was calling that lady over there," I pointed at the lady he had been talking to, "my bitch for tonight. The acoustics in this place must suck." Outdoor pool; the Atlantic Ocean crashing less than 100 meters away; this place rocked. "You are going to die," Brennan laughed at me. Keyes kept coming. "Right, or left?" I asked him in a pleasant tone. He glared yet hesitated. "What does it matter?" Orlando studied me. He had stopped being a hired thug and returned to being a modern day gladiator. "I'm packing so I wanted to know which knee you can live without," I stated. "He's got a gun?" one of the other males mumbled. "Gun?" Orlando's eyes narrowed. "Knife," I corrected. At this point, everyone but Orlando and I felt better. In that snippet, Orlando and I exchanged a vital piece of information; I was going to hurt him. No matter what he did, I was going to put a knife into him. How did he know? I had warned him and I laughed at Death. I wasn't bluffing and Orlando made his life's work piercing his opponent's deceptions. "That's my fiancé," Orlando grumbled. I extended my hand. "I apologize then," I said as he shook my hand. "That was rude of me and uncalled for. Not only is she one of the classiest ladies here, she was hanging out with you, a man not known for accepting anything short of the perfect match. Besides," I whispered, "we both know who I was truly talking about." Orlando wasn't happy with me, or forgiven me. What he did accept was that I'd given him an out. I had backed down and apologized. Brennan was frowning. Orlando and I didn't care; we were both fighters and we'd both ponied up on the promise of pain. If there was to be a conflict, he wasn't going to do it for Brennan. He was going to do it because he always wanted to know how tough the other guy really was. Names floated around. The only people that mattered to me were Anima and Casper. Anima was Brennan's 'girlfriend' which I translated as a debauchery enabler. She was under the delusion that life was boring and pointless, so she should punish the world for her ennui. Her life's cup had been emptied at twenty-three? Bitch, I worked with real women who couldn't even consider such nonsense. Casper; Casper was going to be a problem. For starters, Anima had taken Casper under her wing; was going to show Casper the 'ropes'. Casper proudly proclaimed that. Casper was also not as rich as the 'in crowd' and not a hanger-on; she was the weekend's amusement, or would have been if Brooke hadn't shown up. And, of course, she couldn't see the danger, she was so eager to be with the super-rich. After the name game came the initial party shuffle. Who was aiming for whose bedroom tonight and how would they get what they wanted. Brennan sent two backup boys cruising for Libra while he angled in for Brooke. Anima and Casper were supposed to keep me busy. Libra promptly showed she'd thumbed through my Book of Social Fugliness. "I only date real men," she shredded the 'second-stringers' to pieces. The blast socially staggered them. "If you have to think about it, boys, you are not a man. Don't strain yourself trying to be something you can't even comprehend. Now one of you go get me a drink while I think about what Cáel and I are going to do to Brooke tonight." In social parlance, that was shooting someone with both barrels of a shotgun then using the stock to tenderize the remains. That was one flank secure. Next, Casper and Anima. Anima had the feeling I didn't like her; good for her. "Would you really have cut Orlando?" Casper asked me softly while she ran a fingernail over my right forearm. "Casper, to begin with, call him Mr. Keyes. There will come a time when you can freely use his first name, but you ain't there yet," I cautioned her. "To answer your question: yes, I would have sliced down and across, cutting his right hamstring." Keyes heard me, as I had intended. "Brennan says you are a co-worker of Trent," Anima cooed. "Kind of," I shrugged. "Trent is a big-shot with the Far East Unit while I remain in Personnel in the city (Manhattan)." They both looked disappointed then Casper handed me a plum. She wasn't stupid, just willfully blind. "Where did you learn to use a knife then?" Casper tried to 'salvage' me. She was doing herself a favor by trying to make me look better to the rest; doing me a favor. Nice. "I'm with the Records Redaction Unit of Havenstone's Executive Services," I lied. Blink. "That doesn't make any sense," Casper's brow furrowed. "You delete records?" "No Casper," I returned her arm rub, "someone creates a list with names on it. I am part of the team that reduces the number of those names on that list to zero." Blink. "You fire people?" she remained uncertain. She had to believe I was playing with her, which I was. "No," I shook my head. "That implies extra paperwork. We take a more ergonomic approach. No termination rigmarole; no traceable termination at all." "That sounds vaguely like you murder people," Anima murmured. "Murder is a crime. Converting all the data of a given person into one, misplaced file is a way of circumventing the whole 'exit interview/providing references for other jobs/pension' process." If you believed that this nation, nay, the whole world, was run by soulless corporate monsters that made scary sense. "What do you do with the people?" Anime was showing the tiniest bit of enthusiasm for this conversation. "What people? People have names," I smiled. "Bodies with no records are normally handled as John and Jane Does and are buried in Potter's Field, or used at medical schools." "Do you enjoy sex with multiple partners?" Anima smiled; veering the conversation off in a different dir

Welcome to another exciting episode of the **Boss Uncaged Podcast**! I'm your host, S.A. Grant, and today we have an incredible guest joining us—Sardor, a true "serial tech boss" and a visionary in the realms of AI, software development, and entrepreneurial strategy. In this episode, we dive deep into Sardor's insightful predictions about the future of AI and software commoditization, the critical role of creative marketing in the AI era, and his journey from humble beginnings to becoming an influential angel investor and tech entrepreneur.Sardor shares his personal experiences with AI tools like Fathom, the strategic significance of linguistic skills in global networking, and the profound impact of his family on his personal and professional life. We'll also explore Sardor's innovative business models, including his ventures in the shared economy and customer-funded businesses, providing invaluable lessons for aspiring entrepreneurs.Join us as we discuss the power of perseverance through failure, the importance of evolving business strategies, and Sardor's advice for tech entrepreneurs. Plus, you'll get recommendations on must-read books and hear about Sardor's ambitious plans for his company, including the groundbreaking PreIPO platform. So, buckle up and get ready for an episode packed with actionable insights, personal anecdotes, and expert advice that you won't want to miss!The CRO & Managing Partner at Jafton Of akhmedov.co: Sardor Akhmedov AKA The Serial Tech Boss - S8E19 (#270)About meSardor Akhmedov is a serial tech entrepreneur and a public speaker who currently holds a position as the CRO and managing partner at Jafton.com - Top Software and App Development Agency in the US.Sardor is also an angel investor who backed companies like Fathom, Assets Grow and Nutra First.Among other notable achievements is being the youngest member ever of the Forbes Business Council, first Uzbek to join Harvard Business Review Advisory Council, and being the youngest speaker ever to perform on the biggest business forum called Synergy Global and the biggest podcast conference called Podcast Movement where he spoke among people like Mark Cuban, Gary Vee, and Richard Branson.Sardor is currently based out of Miami,FL but he comes from Uzbekistan where he grew up aspiring to become an entrepreneur. He first came to the US in 2014 after winning a scholarship to attend a private high school in Granby, MA after which he attended multiple universities before he dropped out in his second year of college. Sardor is a subject matter expert in IT outsourcing and bootstrapping businesses without capital using customer-financed funding model.Listen and Subscribe To Boss Uncaged Podcast Here:https://podcast.bossuncaged.comWebsite: https://instagram.com/akhmedov.co?igshid=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/sardor-akhmedovFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/akhmedov.co?mibextid=ZbWKwLFacebook Business Page: https://www.facebook.com/sardor333?mibextid=ZbWKwLYoutube: https://youtube.com/@sardorakhmedov9200Twitter: https://twitter.com/akhmedovco?t=ZbqDZGs319Ir-BLijTrJ1A&s=09Instagram: https://instagram.com/akhmedov.co?igshid=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@sardorakhmedovco?_t=8ejfl8Oc1lH&_r=1#App #Website #B2B #AppDevelopment

The Church & The State Matthew 22:15-22 For the bulletin in PDF form, click here. The Distinction The Relationship The FutureThis Week's Growth GuideGod's Word is both central and critical to your spiritual growth. We invite you to utilize the Growth Guide during the week to further your application of the Truth from the message.•. Monday - Matthew 5:13-16•. Tuesday - Matthew 22:15-22•. Wednesday - Romans 13:1-7•. Thursday - 1 Timothy 2:1-4•. Friday - Philippians 3:20-21Home Church Questions1. Have someone read Matthew 22:15-22. The goal of the two groups was to trap Jesus. Why would this question about paying taxes potentially be a trap?2. What is the meaning of Jesus' answer to their question. Why does He answer this way?3. This passage suggests a distinction between the Roman government and God. It was mentioned in the sermon that some governments have not recognized a distinction between the church and government. What are some of the negative consequences that can occur when there is no distinction between these two spheres? For example, why would it be a problem if the state tried to force someone to convert to a particular religion?4. In an ideal situation, what should Christians expect of government? What is the responsibility of the government to the church?5. While the government has responsibilities to the church, we have responsibilities to the state. First, we are supposed to be salt and light (have someone read Matthew 5:13-16). Why is it important that we are being transformed by the Gospel and becoming more like Christ in order to have an impact as salt and light wherever we live? What are some ways you are representing Christ to the people in your neighborhood, your workplace, your school, your team?6. Second, we also have certain responsibilities to obey the government God has placed over us (see 1 Tim 2:1-3 and Romans 13:1-6). Why is it important for Christians to be diligent to obey the laws?7. Third, we live under a government in which we can have an influence on policies and laws. What are some ways we can have an influence and why should we try to have an influence?8. Philippians 3:20-21 reminds us our ultimate citizenship is in heaven. If we truly believe this, how should this impact how we live as citizens in Conway? Mission Highlight - Pray for the Unreached: The Northern Uzbek in Uzbekistan Uzbekistan has a population of 27.5 million, with Islam as the main religion and Uzbek as the primary language. Christians make up less than 0.1% of the population. While the complete Bible is available in both written and oral form, no movement of the gospel has been reported. An estimated 550 workers are needed, with a ratio of 1 worker per 50,000 people. Focus Prayer on sending long-term laborers to the Uzbeks, fostering religious freedom, and spreading the Good News through strong local disciple-making households. The goal is for Uzbek families to embrace Jesus and build movements of faith across the country.FinancesWeekly Budget 35,297Giving For 10/20 35,240Giving For 10/27 14,135YTD Budget 600,052Giving 511,958 OVER/(UNDER) (88,094)Fellowship 101We invite you to join us next Sunday, November 10, at 9:00 a.m. to learn more about Fellowship. This is a great opportunity to hear about our mission, values, and our ministries. If you're new to Fellowship, join us in the conference room (first floor) to hear what God is doing and where He is taking us. During this time, you will meet some of our ministry leaders and get to ask questions. Register at fellowshipconway.org/register. New to Fellowship?We are so glad that you chose to worship with our Fellowship Family this morning. If you are joining us for the first time or have been checking us out for a few weeks, we are excited you are here and would love to meet you. Please fill out the “Connect Card” and bring it to the Connection Center in the Atrium, we would love to say “hi” and give you a gift. Feed the Need - TODAY 10-2:00 p.m.Join us in filling the Conway Ministry Center's food pantry. Simply grab a list of preferred items at one of the participating grocery stores, purchase the items, and drop them off with the volunteers at the truck in the store's parking lot! Fellowship is hosting the Wal-mart neighborhood Market today! Operation Christmas Child - Our 2024 Operation Christmas Child season is in full swing! Your involvement in Operation Christmas Child is one of the easiest ways to place your fingerprints, or your children's fingerprints, on the great things God is doing worldwide. These shoeboxes are Gospel opportunities used by God in church planting, multi-generation discipleship, and changing the lives of entire villages across the world. Would you consider how many boxes you and your family might be called to pack? For more information go to fellowshipconway.org/occ. If you want to volunteer at the Dallas Processing Center, email Paul Bradley at paul@fellowshipconway.org. The last day to sign up is November 10.Fellowship Kids Family HikeFellowship families plan to join us on Saturday, November 9, at 10:00 a.m. Please bring a picnic lunch and meet us on the playground at Woolly Hollow. We will head out for a fun hike and come back to enjoy a picnic lunch together. Prayer During ServiceWe love to pray for one another. Our prayer team will have people at the front of the Auditorium under the signs Hope and Love to pray for you after the message. Please feel free to walk up to them for prayer or encouragement during the first worship song after the message.

How are the popular Ikat designs made? BBC journalist Ibrat Safo explores Uzbekistan's love story with textiles. Plus, Sanjaya Dhakal of BBC Nepali explains why a group of Kathmandu artists launched an inventive campaign to repatriate their country's stolen art.'Silk Roads' is at the British Museum in London until February 2025.Produced by Alice Gioia, Caroline Ferguson and Hannah Dean. (Photo: Faranak Amidi. Credit: Tricia Yourkevich.)

Mark Reese began his thirty-year career in Central Asia as the first Peace Corps volunteer to serve in Kokand, Uzbekistan, from 1994-1996. Through the University of Washington, he subsequently established and managed a Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs program centered around Islamic studies and curricula reform in Uzbekistan through the Department of State's Uzbekistan Partnership Program in Islamic Studies. Mr. Reese managed translation and cultural advisement task orders for a broad spectrum of government and private industry clients. Over seven years, he conducted groundbreaking work through dynamic educational program development as Founding Director for the Center for Regional Studies at the United States Naval Academy. His flagship work surrounds his translation of Abdullah Qodiriy's O'tkan Kunlar, the first full-length novel in the Uzbek language. For his efforts, the Republic of Uzbekistan's President Shavkat Mirziyoyev awarded Mr. Reese the Presidential Order of Do'stlik for furthering awareness of the Uzbek language and culture. In 2023, he was awarded the Tourism Fo'ydasi for developing tourism content in Tashkent, Uzbekistan. As CEO of Suhbat LLC, Mark is currently engaged in strategic communications and cultural program development for a variety of clients in Central Asia.

Maliha Shirzay-Research Fellow, RWI Afghanistan Programme in 2024 is collaborating with other research fellows to support the mandate of the Special Rapporteur Richard Bennett on Human Rights in Afghanistan. More specifically, in this episode dedicated tshe shares insights from her research on investigating the rights of Afghan women, particularly focusing on education and empowerment. Maliha delves into the marginalized position of ethnic groups, specifically the Uzbek women in Afghanistan, and the obstacles encountered by Muslim women. Her research delves into the intricate nature of intersecting identities and the vulnerabilities experienced by these women.

Some paleontologists argue the ancient footprints found in South Korea show flight may have evolved in multiple dinosaur lineages. And, COP16 will tackle questions like who should profit from non-human DNA, and who is responsible for financing critical conservation projects.Do Fossil Prints Show Dinosaur Flight Evolved More Than Once?Researchers studying tracks fossilized in Cretaceous-era lakeshore mud in what is now South Korea argue this week in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences that the dinosaur footprints are “indirect evidence of pre-avian aerial behavior” in a tiny microraptor.The tracks, which belong to a sparrow-sized theropod related to Tyrannosaurus rex, are spaced far enough apart to indicate that the tiny dino was moving across the mud very quickly. That speed, the researchers argue, is faster than the animal should have been able to go just by running with its hindlimbs. However, if flapping wings were added into the equation to give a power boost, the spacing might make sense.If the microraptor did, in fact, have flight-capable wings, that would mean that the ability to fly may have evolved in multiple lineages of dinosaurs, not just the descendants of Archaeopteryx we see as modern birds. Other researchers are not convinced of the analysis, arguing that the tracks may not all have come from the same individual at the same time.Jason Dinh, climate editor for Atmos, joins guest host Sophie Bushswick to talk about the debate, and other stories from the week in science, including an archeological find of medieval-era Silk Road cities in the Uzbek mountains, breathing differences in people born with the inability to smell, and the surprising ability of hornets to hold their liquor.Biodiversity's Biggest Event Is Underway In ColombiaFrom now until November 1, bureaucrats from nearly every country in the world will be gathered in Cali, Colombia, for COP16, better known as the United Nations biodiversity summit. This “conference of the parties” comes together about every two years to deliberate on the biggest issue in conservation science: how to stop ecological collapse.At the last summit, COP15, nearly every country agreed to a deal to halt biodiversity loss by 2030. This year's conference will take a temperature check on how nations are doing in their quest to meet this goal (spoiler alert: not well).Also on the agenda are the questions of who should profit from non-human DNA, and how a $700 billion funding gap for conservation work can be filled. Joining guest host Sophie Bushwick to parse through these big ideas is Benji Jones, environmental correspondent for Vox based in New York.Transcripts for each segment will be available after the show airs on sciencefriday.com. Subscribe to this podcast. Plus, to stay updated on all things science, sign up for Science Friday's newsletters.

Eric Adams Uzbek Straw Donations Blues by Matthew Russell Lee, Inner City Press, Oct 12, 2024 Books: https://www.amazon.com/author/matthewrusselllee Four Uzbek businessmen Send Mohamed Bahi to meet with them Ten thousand dollars, break it in five When the Fed show up, respond with lies Every week, a new indictment To Tish and Andy it's just incitement Each of them wants to rule Room 9 Kathy dropping the axe, just a matter of time Story: Eric Adams Staffer Bahi Is Arrested for Obstruction and Released on $250,000 Bond https://www.innercitypress.com/sdny617fifhlehrburgerbahiicp100824.html Documents on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/filing-eric-done-113328392 Extras on Substack: https://matthewrussellleeicp.substack.com/p/extra-eric-adams-pleads-not-guilty Books: https://www.amazon.com/author/matthewrusselllee

Monocle's Fernando Augusto Pacheco speaks with the founder of Ostinato Records Vik Sohonie, who just released a new compilation entitled ‘Synthesizing the Silk Roads: Uzbek Disco, Tajik Folktronica, Uyghur Rock & Crimean Tatar Jazz from 1980s Soviet Central Asia'See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Aleksandra Kilczewska, known by her stage name "Apsara Afsanera," is a dancer, choreographer, and alternative model based in Warsaw. She is a pioneer in her country, specializing in Persian dance as well as other Silk Road styles, including Uzbek, Tajik, Afghan, Azeri, and Uyghur dance. In addition to her expertise in these forms, she is also a skilled Tribal Belly dancer. Before delving deeply into Silk Road dances, Apsara trained extensively in various Indian dance styles and has a strong foundation in ballet, modern, jazz, and contemporary dance techniques. She continuously seeks to create her unique form of expression by blending these diverse techniques, drawing inspiration from music, poetry, literature, and film.In this episode you will learn about:- Historical connections between Persian and Georgian dances- Types of Georgian dance- Benefits of training in various dance style- The psychology of teaching kids vs seniors- University degree for dancersShow Notes to this episode:Find Apsara Afsanesara on Instagram, FB, and Youtube, and website.Previous interview with Apsara Afsanesara:Ep 20. Apsara Afsanesara: What Do You Know About Persian Dance?Details and training materials for the BDE castings are available at www.JoinBDE.comFollow Iana on Instagram, FB, and Youtube . Check out her online classes and intensives at the Iana Dance Club.Find information on how you can support Ukraine and Ukrainian belly dancers HERE.Podcast: www.ianadance.com/podcast