A friend asked me over the weekend for help in understanding the London bombings, and I told her (as I'd recommended in a previous post) to go out and rent the 1997 British film, "My Son the Fanatic."
Well. No sooner do I come up with a brilliant idea but some smart-ass writer at Slate steals it telepathically out of my head (or out of my in-box or off of my universally-read blog). Anyway, don't forget that I said it first --even if she said it better .
Reafd Irfan's caveat before you view.