Here is a recent column I wrote for Slate. It still amazes me how much you can learn by surfing news stories and really getting into the guts of the matter. I feel as though I know Muhammad Naeem Noor Khan quite intimately at this point. A rat he was! Of course, there's a question -- low-level grunt or Al Qaeda communications kingpin?

Note, also, that the Reyman family lives on Little Bushey Lane in Hertfordshire. What are they, fucking hobbits?

For no particular reason whatsoever, I leave you with this quote from Chapter 8 of Ulysses. Leopold Bloom is lamenting the poor marketing skills of his former employer, the stationer Mr. Hely.

His ideas for ads like Plumtree's potted meat under the obituaries, cold meat department. You can't lick 'em. What? Our envelopes. Hello, Jones, where are you going? Can't stop, Robinson, I am hastening to pruchase the only reliable inkeraser Kansell, sold by Hely's Ltd., 85 Dame street. Well out of that ruck I am. Devil of a job it was collecting accounts of those those convents. Tranquilla convent. That was a nice nun there, really sweet face. Wimple suited her small head. Sister? Sister? I am sure she was crossed in love by her eyes. Very hard to bargain with that sort of a woman.