Sunday, October 24, 2021

On the Topic of the Course at the Halfway Point...

Thus far, I am enjoying the course and its subject matter. Frankly, I tend to enjoy English and Literature courses quite a bit, as the coursework doesn't really feel like "work" in the same way that other classes do, likely because it is less formulaic. 

The blog posts are a chance to interact with the texts while expressing thoughts in a largely informal manner, which allows a high degree of freedom in discourse. Similarly, the research excursions, while they do feel a bit more like work than the rest of the classwork, are still fulfilling to investigate and to unify into a cohesive presentation.

The weakest point for me, personally, is the class discussions. That's not to say that I dislike or would change anything about the discussions, and I do find them to be enlightening, especially with the varying perspectives about how the book is interpreted and how peers view the characters. For instance, I was surprised by how little my classmates liked the character of Karamat while still sympathizing with him, as I found him to be one of the more enjoyable characters in Home Fire. Class discussions are my weakest point because it takes a while for me to generate complete arguments; I understand that discussions aren't debates, and that you should throw out ideas and have the class as a whole build upon them, but I just don't like putting out incomplete ideas. 

Overall, I find this course to be both entertaining and enlightening, and the activities only serve to further foster this sense.

On the Topic of the Intertextuality Final Project...

Just based on what we've done in class so far, I am fairly interested in researched the intertextuality of themes of Justice vs. Law. That being said, I'm fairly certain that it is a considerably broad theme, especially taking into account how long law has dominated human history; with that in mind, there should be a way to narrow down the topic while maintaining relevance to the assigned readings. Taking these into account, I have drafted a clear topic for the final project: the debate of law vs. justice in nonfiction-based democracies. 

Democracy as a form of governance was a fairly recent breakthrough, with the Athenian direct democracy being the progenitor of the system. Following the decline of Greek civilization, democracy showed little prominence until modern history, with the United States spearheading the spread of democratic systems across the globe. This should, in theory, narrow the temporal scope of the topic to 500-400 BCE and 1700-2021 CE. It would be interesting to discover stories about law and justice within democracies between these two time periods, but it would be unlikely, or at least I would assume so given that democratic ideas, let alone actual democracies, were far and in-between in that time period.

Regarding the medium, I am conflicted between writing a traditional essay and using Neatline; if I were to write an essay, it would probably be business as usual, but if I were to use Neatline, I could show where, geographically and chronologically, where each story was written, as well as a description of each story and its relation to the theme of justice vs. law. At present, I am leaning more towards Neatline than an essay, as it inherently allows for a form of presentation that I believe better fits the subject matter.

That being said, I am moderately concerned about how I would go about finding these stories. For most research excursions, I use the MLA database, which details a great variety of articles, journals, reviews, etc., but searching for the theme I have selected likely wouldn't elicit clear results. I'd probably consult Kelci on this, since it is somewhat unfamiliar territory for me, and I can't say finding scholarly sources for book themes entirely makes sense in this context to me.

On the Topic of the Blind Prophet...

As a member of the discussion group who formulated this question, the answer was not immediately obvious to me. The seer was an individual who gave advice to Creon, but there wasn't a singular individual who Karamat listened to above others; people who Karamat listened to included his personal assistant and his head of security.

That being said, after thinking about the role of the seer a bit more, it became incredibly obvious that the parallel to the seer was Karamat's wife. Circling back, the role of the seer within the story was to incite change within Creon to rescind his decision to prevent Polyneices' burial. In the case of Home Fire, the individual responsible for changing Karamat's mind about Parvaiz's burial was undoubtedly his wife; in class, it was mentioned that both achieved this means through threatening Creon and Karamat respectively. While this is true, the seer's threat was the only reason that Creon revoked his stubborn law, whereas Karamat's wife used a political threat as a pretense to get Karamat to come and speak with her as a father and husband rather than as a political façade.

The most clear parallel, and one I hadn't noticed for a while, was the names of the two characters: the seer is named Tiresias, and Karamat's wife is named Terry. As is clear, Shamsie didn't shy away from making one-to-one adoptions of Antigone's names and modernizing them to make the names of her own characters, and so Terry being a modernization of Tiresias is more apt than any other character in the novel. 

Monday, October 18, 2021

On the Topic of Antigone vs. Home Fire...

The theme of justice vs. law is portrayed in both Home Fire and Antigone, though the latter is much shorter, and focuses on that theme moreso than the former, which has a variety of themes to explore. That being said, I believe that despite Antigone's focus on the theme of justice vs. law does not lead to a more developed commentary on the theme than in Home Fire


Central to the theme of justice vs. law in both narratives is the character in power: Karamat Lone and Creon respectively. These characters symbolize the law, and oppose justice as represented by Aneeka and Antigone. That being said, the characterization of Karamat is far superior to that of Creon; we do not see very much of Karamat in Home Fire, but what little he has goes a long way for his character. 

We see Karamat console Eamonn following his first heartbreak by dropping a massive frozen fish onto Eamonn's bed; this draws the disdain of his wife and daughter, and the action in a vacuum is arguably deplorable, but it is just what Eamonn needed to move on. When Eamonn goes to inform Karamat of his decision to become engaged to Aneeka, Karamat is amicable, and is supportive right up until it is revealed that Aneeka is sister to Parvaiz, who Karamat knows is affiliated with terrorists. Karamat's relationship with his wife and daughter are genuine, and he sees, to some extent, the fault of his decision to keep Parvaiz from being buried in Britain, though he needs a heart-to-heart with his wife to do so. One could argue whether or not Karamat was wrong in preventing Parvaiz from returning with respect to justice, but as a politician, his actions were logical and consistent. 

The biggest component to Karamat embodying the law is that he divorces his identity as an individual from his identity as a politician. This is to the extent that he creates a false persona for Eamonn to give to the media, ignoring the wishes of his wife and Eamonn himself. His personal desires are irrelevant to what he must do as the home secretary, which is why Eamonn accusing him of taking actions based on personal animus so painful and detrimental to Karamat's image.


Creon, on the other hand, is a much more one-dimensional character. The inspiration for Karamat's character seems to more or less draw on a general analysis of Creon rather than specifics. Of the things that Creon disavows, there are three that he regards as absolute evil: anarchy, money, and submission to females. Note that the second of these is never expanded upon outside of passing mentions of "ill-gotten gains," and the third is shown through his attack of Haemon's character.

As a character, Creon never truly undergoes development, which is in stark contrast to Karamat, who changes following his talk with his wife. The parallel to this would be Creon changing his mind following the prediction of the seer, but Creon's decision to free Antigone was not based on a change in is character, but out of fear. Now, fear for Eamonn was a component of Karamat's decision, but he also felt empathy for Aneeka through his own experience with his mother's death. Creon had no empathy for Antigone, he simply feared that he would die a dog's death that the seer predicted, and acted wholly out of self-interest.

Furthermore, Creon does not portray the law to a degree that allows for critical thinking in the way Karamat does; one could even say that Creon is a bit of a strawman. There are several points in Antigone where Creon is shown to act purely out of self-interest, and regards Antigone's disregard for his law to be a personal affront. This stands in stark contrast with Karamat, who removed himself from his position, and solely sought the best interests of the country. Creon, more than embodying the law, embodies a position of power when abused; obviously the law is going to be seen as inferior to justice when it is portrayed through a dictator. Karamat was many things, but he was no dictator, and so the discourse of law vs. justice was more nuanced, the two stood in opposition to one another as concepts on both a national and personal level. Creon allows for none of this nuance, because not only is his character shallow, but the play outright states that his arrogance and laws were inferior to that of gods, of justice. There is no conceivable way to argue for the side of the law when Creon is the one portraying it.


Overall, Home Fire poses a question of whether the law or justice should take precedence over one another on differing scales, and allows for nuanced discourse for either side. Antigone is an overt statement that justice supersedes law, and uses tyranny as an example to do so.


On the Topic of Antigone's Textual History...

It is honestly impressive how long Antigone endured as writing on papyrus. I'm not sure how durable papyrus is, but the fact that legible scraps of papyrus were found in Egypt is mind-boggling. I'd have to imagine that the script was brought by land rather than washed ashore, though the positioning on the coast of Egypt doesn't indicate a clear answer; that being said, it wouldn't make sense to me for the papyrus to still be legible after spending enough time in water to be washed onto the shores of Egypt. 

Anyway, it is just as impressive how the story was adapted through over a millennia's time. Certainly, the specific diction may have been altered with the passage of time, but the overall narrative remains unchanged.

With regards to the change of the speaker at line 572, it is merely the translators/adapters trying to reason who, with knowledge of their characters, would be more logically suited to speak the line. It is not difficult to see why it would be assumed that Antigone would be more suited to a line addressing Haemon, her unwed husband, with adoration. Could someone, the earliest confirmed being the Aldine, have knowingly changed the speaker of line 572 to Antigone? Perhaps, but again, this would have had no impact on the greater narrative, and would have made more sense to the isolated story of Antigone. The most damage done would be to the reputation of the editor, and the sin, if you could call it that, of knowingly changing the text that one is assigned to faithfully adapt.

On the Topic of Antigone's Performance History...

The most interesting part of learning about Antigone's performance history was hearing about the circumstances around which the stage plays were performed in the first place.

It was amazing to hear that the Sanctuary of Dionysus, where Antigone would be performed, was such a well-developed viewing area. Hearing that the seating capacity was roughly fifteen thousand was incredible, as modern sports coliseums can only house up to four times that amount; I was convinced that due to technological limitations coupled with generally lower populations would necessitate a much lower number of viewers, but I stood corrected.

Frankly, the amphitheater naturally allows for better sound dispersion through the audience, but I still can't understand how a stage play could be audibly heard by an audience that could hold fifteen thousand people without some sort of projection technology. I'd have to assume that the issue wasn't solved just by having the actors talk louder, because that would require an absurd set of lungs.

Additionally, it was fascinating to hear that Antigone was performed as part of a festival, funded by the state. This context as to why Antigone was based around Thebes rather than Athens is somewhat indicative of the extent to which media and art is allowed to critique government, and how draconian this nature has been and will always be.

Apart from that, the description of the view from the Sanctuary of Dionysus sounds vibrant; being able to see the harbor on a clear day indicates a high elevation, fitting for a sanctuary devoted to a god.


Monday, October 11, 2021

On the Topic of Symbolism in Home Fire...

    I am going to assume that "major symbol" refers to a reoccurring symbol in Home Fire, of which the only one I can think of immediately would be hot/cold, which encompasses snow and the seasons.

    As a bit of thinking out loud, I feel that at a first glance, the symbolism of the temperature is somewhat inconsistent. In Isma's section, there are several mentions of snow; as a class, we hypothesized that the snow symbolized a variety of things, namely forced assimilation, ostracization, and general inhospitality. Despite this, Karamat Lone, who parallels Isma, prefers warmth over the cold. This may be explained by saying that Karamat as an individual rather than a politician desires acceptance and the like, but he says that "a man needed fire in his veins to burn through the world, not ice to freeze everything in place." (Shamsie 227) The immediate correlation of the symbolism of heat versus cold would be progress versus stagnation, but it would be odd to use this lens when considering Isma's section. 
    To explain why Isma and Karamat having differing views on the temperature is somewhat boggling symbolically, we have to do minor character studies of the two. Isma, at least outwardly, accepts conformity, and her religious beliefs, although strong, shows incredible distaste for extremist Muslims, stemming from her hatred of her father. When she steps into the US and is met with snow, it could indicate her need to conform to beliefs that she doesn't necessarily hold, or it could indicate her isolation from those she cherishes.
    Karamat Lone is Isma's character pushed to an extreme. Although Karamat is not Islamophobic, he takes a firm stance concerning the behavior of Muslims in general, and detests extremists who are "Muslims who make people hate Muslims." (Shamsie 244) He doesn't simply accept conformity as a positive good, he is the one spearheading conformity and rallying the public to force conformity. As a whole Karamat spends his character arc desiring warmth and fire rather than having it. His hands are cold when drinking coffee, a sensation he finds mildly displeasing; drinking the coffee and having the heat sear his throat is desirable. When he is barred from the warmth of his bedroom, Karamat makes his way out to the veranda, where the night wind laps against his cheeks, cold. In these contexts, it would be reasonable to assume that warmth is human connection, and cold is isolation. Unfortunately, temperature is brought up in situations beyond that of simple emotion.
    When speaking to Isma about her family, Karamat says that should an angel bring Aneeka and Parvaiz back on "wings of fire," he would still keep them from entering Britain. Could the angel's wings symbolize bringing Isma's family back to her, where she was previously cold and isolated? An argument could be made, but the emphasis placed upon the phrasing and the strength of the statement makes such an interpretation feel somewhat lacking. Also, going back to the quote that was used to kickstart this discussion, Karamat's desire for heat permeates into his political career, where he actively distances himself from his family. It doesn't make sense for him to crave heat as a politician if heat were to represent his bonds with those he loves. 
    Now, the largest contradiction with the idea that the temperature has relation to bonds is that Aneeka covers Parvaiz's corpse in ice. The symbolism with the aforementioned interpretation would mean that Aneeka would be isolating her twin, whereas her character arc shows that she is staying with him even in death. Furthermore, the ice melts with time, which can't be clearly explained with the stated interpretation, as the only one with a connection to Parvaiz--Aneeka--hadn't changed in the few days that the ice took to melt. Despite this, it would be incredibly odd for the temperature to symbolize progress versus stagnation, as the instances of progress depicted in the novel are varied in nature and morality, while the symbol itself--heat--is largely the same for all of the different instances. Thus, it is my belief that the symbolism of heat is a bit more specific: it represents the willingness to bring about change.
    Isma's section is characterized by snow and the cold because, at that point in the story, she was content with conformity; snow was also featured when Eamonn left because he was the inciting factor in her thinking of changing, and so his departure ended that line of thought. This symbol comes full circle when Isma visits Karamat, and places ice cubes into the drinks he offers, melting the ice cubes, thereby showing her willingness to go against conformity in order to be with Aneeka, her only remaining family.
    Karamat as a politician needs fire because he needs to have the drive to incite change in the populace in order to meet the needs of the nation. As an individual, Karamat craves warmth because his character arc is spent in an internal dilemma of keeping Aneeka from returning to Britain with Parvaiz. Deciphering the symbolism in his story was difficult because, despite what he says, Karamat spends his section actively disavowing heat. He rejects the notion of a higher power bringing Aneeka and Parvaiz back on wings of fire, and pulls himself away from warmth in order to compose himself. This is because he refuses to change his stance on Parvaiz, the cold reflecting his unwillingness to change said stance. Mentions of warmth are peppered throughout the story to mirror his internal struggle, not fully realized until he empathizes with Aneeka through his experience with the death of his mother. 
    Aneeka encases Parvaiz in ice because she refuses to allow him to change from her perception of him when they were still completely open with each other. Aneeka's section was filled to the brim with her in denial, thinking of Parvaiz as they were as children, always in sync, always as one. Parvaiz's section indicates that they had grown dissonant, especially as Aneeka decided to go to Law School, effectively leaving him alone in his mind; irregardless, Aneeka clings onto the past, unwilling to let it deviate from her memory, and so ice is prevalent in the end of her story. I can only assume that the ice is melting because realization settles into Aneeka that Parvaiz had changed without her, but Aneeka's headspace is largely unreadable following her section because she has practically no dialogue in Karamat's section, and her expressions and body language make her out to be a moving corpse, which, to some extent, supports the symbolism of ice and her belief that she and Parvaiz needed to be in sync as they had in the past.
    This is my best shot at analyzing the symbolism of ice, fire, snow, and general temperature in Home Fire after about a half hour of pondering. To be honest, although a lot of ends feel tied with this interpretation, I feel that there could be an interpretation that ties all the loose ends, and I just can't think of it. It's moderately infuriating, but something I'll have to settle with for now.

    As a side note, or a bonus, however you view it, my favorite "symbol" of sorts is Parvaiz's new name that he adopts in the caliphate: Mohammad bin Bagram. The word "bin" means "son of," so Parvaiz's surname is "son of Bagram," Bagram being the place that his father was supposedly tortured to death. Mohammad is the Islamic prophet, the final prophet, as it was. Putting it together, Parvaiz as he is in the caliphate was born from the suffering of his father, which is not inaccurate given the personality he adopts while under Farooq's influence and tutelage is centered around the legacy of his father. He is also the final prophet, which fits with his affiliation with the caliphate, and their forceful institution of extreme Islamic beliefs.
    The name, although seemingly innocuous at a glance, gives significant insight into the character of Parvaiz immediately following his entrance to the caliphate: a boy infatuated with ideals he doesn't completely understand the repercussions of, and in the process of chasing the rose-tinted legacy of the father he knew only through a glorified legend.
    Concerning more concrete symbols, I liked the lion-unicorn paperweight used by Karamat Lone, and the plastic comb used by the man from the Pakistan High Commission. They are both symbols that are easy to visualize, and both represent enforcing conformity: the lion-unicorn paperweight keeping things in place, and the plastic comb being manufactured uniformity. I do prefer the lion-unicorn paperweight though, as it also reflects Karamat's character as a politician and a side of him he believes to be idealism, plus the mental image is just visually pleasing.

On the Topic of Neatline...

    Neatline is an incredibly useful tool with which readers can visualize the events that take place within a novel, assuming that the novel is nonfiction, that is. Not only can it show the extent of the distance spanned in a story, but it also functions as a chronology of key events that occur, and how they relate to each other geographically. I can only imagine that using it for the research project for Kamala Shamsie's Home Fire would have been incredibly useful for getting a sense of where events took place beyond the general areas of Britain and the Middle East. 

    Learning Neatline was fairly simple, although not all of its functionality was explained. For the most part, using Neatline seems intuitive, and its capabilities are labeled clearly. Maybe dolling up exhibits is more difficult, but in general, completing cohesive maps with Neatline is extremely doable, though I'm uncertain how using it for a research project would function.

    Part of me regrets not using Neatline for Home Fire, and I could easily see how it would be done. The 1939 bombing referenced in Home Fire was a single instance of "Plan S," which saw attacks on innumerable key structures in Britain from 1939 to 1940. I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this. A timeline of each attack along with a description of damage dealt would have been incredibly useful in seeing the extent to which the IRA attacks impacted Britain, and there would have been a significant number of points on the map to explore. One difficulty that would have arose is that, at least in the MLA database, there are nearly no articles specifically about Plan S, let alone a cohesive list of each attack, their location, and their effects. 

On the Topic of Justice vs. Law...

Justice and the law are two very different things, and despite nomenclature tacking justice onto courts, they have inherently different purposes. 

Laws are made with the intent to protect a nation and, to a lesser degree, its constituents. Within the story of Home Fire, this concept is embodied by Karamat Lone who, although extreme and draconic at times, takes measures to ensure terrorism has no effect on Britain. Not dissimilar to the US and the Patriot Act following 9/11, Karamat sacrifices the personal freedoms of his citizens, namely British Muslims, in exchange for what he believes to be heightened defense against Islamic terrorism. Despite what Eamann says, Karamat is not doing so out of personal animus, which Alice told Eamann to say in order to damage Karamat's image. Karamat entirely sets aside his personal biases and wants when in office, going so far as to completely separate himself from his familial obligations while on the clock.

Justice, on the other hand, is an inherently personal quality. When Aneeka brings Parvaiz's rotting corpse outside the embassy, that is her justice. Being alongside her twin and sharing his fate is just for her. Legally, there is no reason for her to be there. Legally, the presence of a rotting corpse in a public space is an instance of public disturbance, and even if it isn't in this scenario, it could be in others. Despite this, legality is irrelevant to Aneeka, because her twin has been wronged and she will stay by his side in death as she had in life.
Justice is when Eamonn goes to be with Aneeka in Istanbul. Legally, going to Istanbul is detrimental to the narrative the state has so painstakingly crafted. Legally, there is no reason for Eamonn to go support a deceased terrorist and his sympathizer sister. Yet for Eamonn, he had unwillingly abandoned Aneeka in her time of need, and it was his personal justice to be there for her, at least to make up for when he couldn't.
Justice is when Karamat Lone makes preparations to allow Aneeka and Parvaiz's corpse to return to Britain. Legally, Karamat Lone's stance is the same, as his logic is unchallenged and should thus be unchanged. Legally, allowing the twins to return to Britain could set a dangerous precedent for terrorists, and displays acceptance that he spent so long purging from the nation. No matter the reasoning that he can use to validate keeping the twins in Istanbul, Karamat had a heart-to-heart with his wife, and, taking from the death of his own mother, felt empathy for Aneeka; allowing her to mourn her twin, to have the same opportunity that he himself had, was only right, was only just.

Justice is personal, which means that it cannot truly be denied or stifled. Laws are general regulations that, in theory, protect as many constituents of a nation as possible. Shamsie doesn't make a statement on which should supersede the other on a larger scale, but, based on the character arcs in Home Fire, it is clear that she believes that, on a personal basis, justice should take precedent over laws.

Sunday, October 3, 2021

On the Topic of Library Research...

To start, I will say that I did learn a bit of using the SCU Online Library in my CTW class last year, so I knew just a little about searching on MLA.

That being said, I am still highly curious about how research on the actual, on-campus library will function. There were several mentions of archives, but I frankly can't imagine when I would need to go to the archives to further research relevant topics. Additionally, citing seems much easier using the electronic library. I am personally interested in original texts and things that would be in the archives, but objectively I can't say that I think I'll need them.

Going forward, I think that research in this class will be just fine. The writeups for the research projects aren't especially demanding, and the specifications for what constitutes a "scholarly article" are pretty fair, and there should be a plethora of articles that fit the bill within the databases provided by SCU.

The research topics are also liberating, in that, so far, research is really just whatever topic interests you that is linked to the book. This reflects the opinion that research should fundamentally be fun, and that research is something that should be carried out naturally; you see something that piques your curiosity while reading, and then it's a Google deep dive for anywhere from a couple minutes to some hours. As an assignment, this research project is simply the more academic progression of that typical activity.

Basically, I'm somewhere between indifferent and excited about the research project.

On the Topic of Perspective...

 I'd rather not be hasty in trying to analyze Shamsie's motives in dividing the sections of the book into separate perspectives, but I think that sufficient information has been given to at least posit a decent guess.

To start hypothesizing the intent of multiple perspectives, we have to first analyze the effects it had on the reader.  At times, the shifting perspectives was somewhat disorienting, not aided by the quick skips in time within each section. There were many parts in the story where I had to go back to previous sections to see how the narration changed how certain characters were represented. The unfortunate portion of analyzing confusion partway through a story is that you can't truly be certain if it is a lack of reading comprehension or a series of plot points to be concluded later in the story; however, for the purposes of this analysis, I will assume that the confusion is an intentional aspect of Shamsie's story.

So, if there is a overarching plot point to be concluded with the final sections of this story, then that's the final answer? No, that is the purpose of the different perspectives narratively, but the confusion in and of itself has a purpose: to show the reader how different outlooks produce a vastly different world. This is evident by the style of the narration in each section: Isma's is verbose and conflicted, Eamann's is methodical then simplistic as he progresses his relationship with Aneeka, and Parvaiz's is uncertain and malleable as his role models shift. 

Overall, the contrasts between the perspectives grants further insight into the world that Shamsie is trying to portray, and the parallels show how each experience can be used to display empathy for one another. To delve into this subject for a moment, Isma has to feign conformity towards British ideals in order to survive in America and not be designated a dangerous individual, whereas Parvaiz has to feign conformity towards extremist Islam ideals in order to not be labeled a traitor and executed. The two are at complete odds with each other, yet taking a step back shows how they have much more in common than their ostracized positions indicate.

The reason that Shamsie placed the stories in the specific order she did was likely to cause the aforementioned disorientation. She reveals the motivations of characters in an order that allows the reader to question the events and beliefs of all parties involved, which should promote introspection and further contemplation concerning the deeper themes.

On the Topic of Research Interests...

The research project has always been lingering in the back of my mind, towering behind me while I read through the novel, yet despite the emphasis I placed upon actively trying to find a research topic, the one that I came to settle on appeared naturally. 

When beginning to read the Eamann section, I assumed that references to the High Road in close proximity to the canal was symbolic of how Eamann and his father, but mostly his father, carried themselves above others despite being the same as others, which was mirrored by the "High Road" despite canals being level with or below walking ground. As I read further and more information was disclosed, it became apparent that the canal was actually a raised bridge, not dissimilar to an aqueduct. 

The concept of such a canal in and of itself grabbed my attention, as I was of the opinion that aqueduct-like structures were mostly defunct given modern infrastructure; the moment I wanted to look further, I stopped myself and noted it as a prospective topic for research. Frankly, even now I can't imagine what it looks like, and it's moderately infuriating. Neither can I imagine why someone would place a canal in the middle of a bridge presumably for the purpose of traversing over unpassable terrain. The whole IRA bombing in 1939 is icing on the cake, and I'll have to research the IRA by extension to get the full picture of the imagery and symbolism latent within the section.

Other potential research topics include the 7/7 terrorist attacks, and for a slightly more shallow and mundane tone, there's also the topic of the "cherry pitter." I would strongly recommend against the latter, but it's a funny thing that I wasn't aware existed up until reading this book.