"In a war, the normal codes of civilized behavior are suspended."
Terima kasih perkhidmatan torrent. Dokumentari ini dapat membantu kita meletakkan nilai pada fotograf-fotograf yang terhidang di media massa.
"What you see [in war or conflict] is unmitigated pain, injustice, and misery. It has occurred to me that if everybody could be there just once to see for themselves what white phosphorus [used in bombs, artillary shells, and mortar shells] does to the face of a child or what unspeakable pain is caused by the impact of a single bullet or how a ragged piece of shrapnel can rip someone's leg off - if everybody could be there to see for themselves the fear and grief just one time, then they would understand that nothing is worth letting things get to the point where that happens to even one person, let alone thousands."
Macam pernah dengar suara ini, tapi di mana ya?
"But everyone cannot be there and that is why photographers go there, to show them, to reach out and grab them and make them stop what they're doing and pay attention to what is going on - to create pictures powerful enough to... shake people out of their indifference."
Right after the Long case I went to the workshop, to see what can be done to that recently-flooded seasoned Saga. A routine as it seems, I stopped by Popular bookshop before pocketing away a lifestyle magazine - Off The Edge.
Well, you know, this sort of mag rarely features someone I'd like to have a cup of coffee with. Hmmm... it is quite a so-called middle class literature is much akin to KLue, with some heavy op-ed about what's going on out there, rather than bloated by endless reviews about entertainment (recall URTV? or Galaxie? or Mangga?).
Enter the November issue. It's him my goodness!
God, politics, everything Farish A Noor interviews Tuan Guru Nik Aziz Nik Mat Off The Edge | Volume 47 | November 2008
Click to jump into the gallery. Just a reminder - extra huge files.
Dedicated to his die-hard fans out there. Yes, I did snap all the pages - so check it out, eh?
Kau seorang tua berwatak hiba, Istanbul, saat menjemputku menjinakkan kunjungan ke kota atma yang dilumuri kenangan.
Katakau, kita adalah sahabat batini dan ruhi, jua keakraban tauhid dan rabbani. Lalu sesudah Subuh di Sultanahmet, kauhidangkan segelas cinta Uthmaniyah. Sungguh, tak terhirup manisnya sejarah yang terbancuh antara keras Theodosius dan ramah segaris Bosphorus.
Di situ kau masih seorang tua berwatak piatu, Istanbul. Saat merangkul Hagia Sofia kutahu ada ketar yang membengkak di dada itu. Sudah terlalu lama kau menghirup pedihnya aroma sekular yang meracuni camar-camar Eminonu juga iklim materi yang terlalu keras untuk masjid-masjidmu. Telahpun tenat segala angin dan rumput, juga batu dan manusia terhunus sebilah sihir Attaturk yang buas mengoyakkan roh tawaduk.
Seperti kau, aku juga perindu yang tegar menunggu kekasih masa lalu; seorang Al Fateh yang menyalakan matahari di tanah khazanah juga meranumkan ibadah di kebun Eropah. Betapa luka generasi yang tertanam di dalam doa panjangmu menitis darahnya ke pakaian kalbuku.
Dan fajar itu di pinggir Marmara kusegarkan sebenih doa paling hijau zaman yang menyirami biar bertumbuh generasi dengan degup Kavakci.
Mari Istanbul, hari masih pagi. Sama-sama kita nanti tibanya angin revolusi.