the time before humans

I was thinking today about certain species that are entirely dependent on human civilization. How did they exist before humans existed?

For instance, where did bedbugs live before humans existed and their beds? Where did head lice live?

How about barn swallows? And wool moths? And parasites that only prey on humans?

I imagine some scientists out there have studied these questions, but Google had no answers for me.

Then again, why do I need to know this stuff? I don't think I really do. My husband always laughs when I ask these "what if" and "I wonder what" questions.

But I am always curious about all sorts of things. Is too much curiosity a bad thing?

is no news good news?

My father-in-law has not yet heard from his doctors after completing his battery of tests and scans. Is this a case of no news is good news? Or are the tests still being processed and evaluated?

He has a follow-up appointment with the oncologist scheduled in two weeks. If you've ever known anyone diagnosed with cancer, the doctor's office will usually call when there's bad news and move up an appointment by saying something innocuous like, "an opening has come up in the calendar." And then, in the doctor's office, boom, the bad-news brick arrives.

He has received no such call to date. With each day that passes, we wonder if this is cause for hope -- either multiple myeloma was not diagnosed or it's in an extremely early stage and thus highly treatable.

Hopefully this will turn out to be good news, but we nonetheless understand it may not be. I think the worst part of this whole process has been the waiting and not knowing.

I like to say we're hoping for the best while preparing for the worst, but there are times when I can't help but worry that the worst will happen. I remember waiting and worrying when my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer, and I suspect that has colored my thinking somewhat.

pussy flash pass

This photo seen below made me laugh because that's the kind of thing I used to do. I don't know if this is a real photo or composited together, but this has happened in reality.

At the same time I'm laughing, I'm also thinking this is a stupid thing to do. I certainly wouldn't do it now. He's driving a huge truck and could get so distracted looking at pussy that he runs off the road and/or causes an wreck.

So my 31-year-old self is not in agreement with my 21-year-old self. The latter would not even have thought about the dangers before I did it. Now, that would be the first thought in my mind. Funny but better not.

What causes a person's thinking to evolve like this? How does one become more responsible? I imagine parenting has something to do with it. Being a parent means (hopefully) your sole priority is no longer yourself but others.

I imagine when I'm in my forties, I'll worry that my sons will meet some girl who is like me when I was a teenager. Uh oh.

nutshell

I just finished reading Ian McEwan's latest novel Nutshell, published just a few weeks ago. I've written here before several times about McEwan, who is probably my most favorite of all novelists.

In short: The book is just perfect. It's gorgeously written, funny, astounding, witty, and sad all at once.

The story is a rather conventional crime drama with shades of Hamlet and told in an utterly brilliant way -- from the perspective of a sarcastic unborn child dwelling inside one of the criminals, a woman only a few weeks away from her due date. Somewhat wise to the world because his mother listens to podcasts and audiobooks all day, the unborn baby has an adult awareness of what the world outside sounds like but has no visual sense.

If you've ever been pregnant or close to anyone pregnant, I don't think you can read this book and ever forget it. You know those mysterious movements and pokes and kicks when baby is moving around inside you? They're not accidental, as this book reveals, but deliberate.

I will say honestly this is not my favorite McEwan book, just because of my personal tastes, but it's every bit as brilliant and memorable as his best works. Reading McEwan is a pleasure like no other, and I give his new novel my highest recommendation.

RIP carol brady

The indefatigable Florence Henderson, whose professional acting career spanned more than sixty years, died on Thanksgiving Day after a short illness. She was 82.

She'll arguably be best remembered for her wholesome mom role in The Brady Bunch, but off-screen she really wasn't very much like that character, except for her almost-always-sunny disposition. She was more recently known as a funny older woman who made some astounding public confessions, like in the interview where she said a former mayor of New York City gave her crabs.

I wrote an entry earlier this year about her still-active sex life, which in turn linked to her profile in Salon. It's nice to know an older woman was still getting her freak on all the way up to the end.

Except for the acting thing, which I wouldn't want, I wouldn't mind being a Florence Henderson in my older years. She still found love and fulfillment and had a big happy family. What a wonderful life.

my 3,000th post

Well, as the old saying goes, you only turn 3,000 once and this is my big day. According to Blogger's tracker of my entries to date, this will be post number 3,000.

I've put up daily posts on this blog since September 12, 2008, which would make about 2,921 posts up to September 12, 2016. So crossing the 3,000 mark was bound to happen roughly two and a half months after my blogiversary.

I have every intention on continuing this blog on a daily basis for the long term. Sometimes I make people angry, and I'm sure I bore people plenty of times, but I enjoy doing it as a way to bookmark my life as it goes along.

Based on my back-of-envelope calculations, if all goes well, I should hit my 4,000th post sometime in August 2019. I certainly hope I'll be around until then.

So for now, thanks for tuning in, and have an enjoyable day after Thanksgiving!

happy turkey day

Happy Thanksgiving to all my American readers, no matter where you may be when you celebrate this special holiday.

All of us have things we aren't thankful for, but we needn't think about those today. Celebrate everything and everyone you have in your life that makes you thankful.

We won't be attending an expat event this year. We're still waiting to hear the results of my father-in-law's tests so neither of us are in much of a mood for celebrating.

So no matter what you do today, if you can't be good, be careful!

submitted for your consideration

Someone posted this online without commentary. You may need to look at the enlargement to really see it. At first you take in the picture -- people in line somewhere in a city, perhaps queueing for tickets or a seat in a popular cafe.

And then you see them.

So, okay, what is this about? A lost bet? A social experiment? One cautious foot out of the closet?

It's in a hip city somewhere, where people have seen it all and are unfazed -- London or New York, probably. That's probably a good thing, because wherever they are, people can be free to be people, no matter what, and are left alone as long as they leave others alone. March to the beat of a different drummer and all that, although you might not want to march in those because they'll kill your feet.

But I have to say, I love the style and the contrasting heels and vamps in two shades of teal blue. They're gorgeous.

I'm afraid if I saw him, I'd have to ask him where he got them, because I'd want to get myself a pair. Would that be in poor taste?

the digital public library

Several days ago, I discovered the Digital Public Library website, a fantastic cornucopia of visual history and arcana. The site links thousands of libraries and other online media sources throughout the United States and other parts of the world.

The Digital Timeline is a fascinating feature that allows you to pick any year at random and see what they have archived from that time. I jumped back to 1636 and looked at original maps of North America. Then I powered ahead to 1906 to wander through original photographs of Los Angeles from that year. And on and on and on.

It's because of websites like this that I limit my websurfing to a fixed period every day. Otherwise, I'd spend countless hours online just surfing around.

If you like history and visual imagery, be sure to check it out. Oh, and they also have their own Tumblr page where modern digital animations of vintage photos and prints are often featured.

nailbiting porn

I bookmarked the photo below to use on my Tumblr, then decided not to use it. Later, I changed my mind again and used it.

I like pictures of men diddling women, because I like that done to me. However, I was ambivalent because of the male model's fingernails -- he is a current or former nail biter, which is obvious in the enlargement (the complete image set is also online as is a video of the scene).

A lot of children and adolescents bite their fingernails and almost all outgrow their behavior. Some adults still do it, nonetheless, and it's literally a filthy habit.

I find bitten nails on a man particularly unsexy. Male hands can be very erotic when used in the right ways, but gnawed nails are a real turn-off for me. I don't want to be diddled with that eyesore brimming with bacteria.

IMHO, bitten nails are almost as gross as nose picking. Inexpensive products are sold over the counter to make you stop, so if you're still biting your nails obsessively, go to the 24-hour drug store and buy a remedy right now.

In the unknown model's defense, he may be a reformed nailbiter. He may have finally broken the habit yet the damage was permanent. I tend to doubt that because the damage looks too new, but I may be wrong.

When I lived in Los Angeles, I had a friend-with-benefits who bit his nails so much they bled. I told him if he didn't stop, it was no more nooky for him. He promptly bought the remedy and broke the habit.

small day tomorrow

When I moved to Australia, I did not bring most of my CDs with me. I ripped all of them, gave most to friends and the public tomorrow, and brought one box of all-time desert island favorites.

Included in that box are a few of jazz group Manhattan Transfer's albums because they always cheer me up and I love to sing along with them. I also included Janis Siegel's album At Home. If you know Manhattan Transfer, you know Siegel is one of the quartet's singers.

She has a beautiful, pristine voice of great power, as you can hear in the song below, "Small Day Tomorrow," one of my all-time favorites. When I was a child and thought I could be a singer, I wanted a voice like hers, but alas genetics chose not to cooperate.

a star is reborn

I read yesterday that Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga will soon begin shooting yet another remake of A Star Is Born. Upon completion, this will be the fourth time the movie was made; previous versions were released in 1937, 1954, and 1976.

I'm usually not big on remakes, but I think A Star Is Born is one of those movies that can be tailored to a contemporary era and work as a remake as long as it's well done. It's a simple story: an aspiring actress/singer meets a famous star and a romance blossoms; her career then rises quickly as his plummets in the opposite direction.

I think the big wild card in this movie will be Lady Gaga. She has done television acting to mixed reviews, but she's never had a major role in a feature film.

She obviously can carry off the music portion but can she rise to the drama without seeming stiff and amateurish? If she's wooden or weak or chews scenery, the movie could end up a huge bomb.

Beyoncé was originally cast in the rising star role. I think she could've made it a stronger film, but in all honesty, she's getting a bit long in the tooth to be playing an innocent newcomer.

the underground railroad

By total coincidence, I finished reading Colson Whitehead's newest novel The Underground Railroad the same day the announcement was made that it had won the National Book Award, one of America's most prestigious writing prizes. The book tells the story of Cora, a runaway slave, as she struggles to make her way from a Georgia cotton plantation to freedom in the North.

I am not at all surprised it won. The book is beautifully written and highly imaginative. Some of the passages are deeply haunting and truly unforgeteable.

The novel is a genre amalgam of sorts, a combination of historical fiction and fantasy fiction set in a parallel universe United States. Therein lies the reason why I was not blown away, but that's entirely due to my own personal taste -- I've never really been a fantasy fiction fan.

I prefer fiction grounded in reality, whether it's modern day or historical. While characters can be entirely fictional, I like their world to be based in what is entirely believable, something that actually happened or could actually happen. When it's historical fiction -- and I read a lot of that -- I like the historical part to be true.

The historical part of Whitehead's novel is partly true but part of it is entirely fanciful, an alternative reality of sorts, a fantasy fiction version of nineteenth century America. I was not captivated by that idea, but again it's personal taste -- I read some reviews after I finished the book, and the critics praised the fantasy element.

So I recommend the book, particularly for those who like a well crafted tale in beautiful prose. But be forewarned it's not always grounded in reality, if that is an issue for you, too.

possibly good news

My father-in-law saw the oncologist yesterday for a first examination. While he definitely has a lesion in his skull, the doctor was not really sold on multiple myeloma as a diagnosis.

The oncologist said he was showing no other obvious symptoms in the physical exam, and his recent blood tests weren't suggesting any signs of multiple myeloma, either. He ordered a much more extensive battery of blood test to look for a wide variety of markers plus a series of X-rays and other imaging.

My father-in-law has reported no symptoms of any kind, save for the double vision. Both his cardiologist and now the oncologist suspect that was caused by a slight TIA, short for transient ischemic attack, a brief interruption of blood flow to the brain.

The oncologist will know much more once the blood test results and images come in. It could still be bad news but then again it might not be.

We're keeping all our collective fingers crossed. As always with issues like this, we hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

lost at sea

I bookmarked this article for my husband about an abandoned homemade solar powered boat that drifted from Canada to Ireland in a short period of time. The thing looks like a wooden tank.

James served two decades in the Royal Australian Navy and much of that time was at sea, so I thought this would interest him. He told me he wasn't surprised such a big piece of crap could make a sea voyage across the Atlantic. As a landlubber, I always thought the ocean surfaces were pristine because they look that way from the windows of transcontinental flights.

He responded that any human debris that floated would likely be found on the ocean. He personally saw floating furniture, sheds, doors, small boats of many varieties, and all kinds of trash bobbing in the water hundreds of miles from shore.

The southern Indian Ocean, he said, is often quite calm below the Tropic of Capricorn in the so-called Horse Latitudes. This was where he and his shipmates most often saw this human flotsam in the places where they sailed.

That left me wondering, if humans died out as a species, how many millennia would have to pass for all traces of our civilization to disappear? I don't mean big stuff like buildings -- I mean every trace of us. I'm guessing many thousands if not millions of years.

hallelujah

Kate McKinnon did an absolutely lovely solo performance of Leonard Cohen's song "Hallelujah" in a cold opening during the most recent episode of Saturday Night Live. The video clip is on YouTube and already has over seven million views.

Leonard Cohen died last week at age 82 of cancer. IMHO, I always thought he was a better songwriter than performer. I've never really been into gravely voices.

The song is right for the mood I've been in lately, so I looked to see what covers were online. k.d. lang has a very nice version, but I think the best is Alexandra Burke's seen below. She makes this song her own. I'm not alone in my opinion, considering this video has more than fifty million views.

no quick cure

Since my post yesterday, I've spent several hours reading about cancers online, specifically multiple myeloma. Like many laypeople have done, I imagine, I wondered how likely a cancer cure is anywhere on the horizon -- can those of us who are younger live long enough for medical advances to save us with a permanent solution?

The short answer seems to be "unlikely." There are literally hundreds of cancer types, and each of those has variables that can vary from patient to patient in a variety of permutations and combinations. Everyone of them requires a separate form of treatment, and many have multiple options. While some forms of cancer have seen significant improvements in treatment to the point where most people survive, others are a quick death sentence, no matter what.

My rudimentary research was all rather depressing. One in three women will develop cancer in their lifetime as will one in two men. I would imagine, statistically, that means almost every family will have several cancer victims in their ranks.

When you think about it, most of us will die in some rather unpleasant way. If it's not a horrible accident, it's a horrendous natural disaster or a terrible medical condition.

Aren't I just a bundle of sunshine today.

a shitty end to the a shitty week

We went to visit my inlaws yesterday, as we often do on the weekend. When we were there, my father-in-law said he wanted to talk to my husband and me. I could tell from his face and expression it was something serious.

He told us he had a CT scan of his brain early in the week because he had been experiencing really bad headaches for the first time in his life. While this may not be the cause, the doctors discovered he has something called a lytic lesion on his skull bone.

He will now have further tests this week to find out whether it's benign or malignant. The doctor suspects the ultimate cause is multiple myeloma, a cancer of plasma cells, but that's not definite without further tests and diagnosis.

If it does turn out to be multiple myeloma, the average survival period is a year-and-a-half to five years, depending on the cancer's stage. So it's not as fast as some cancers but not as slow as others.

While a cancer diagnosis at this date is only speculation until further tests are done; my father-in-law's mindset is hope for the best but prepare for the worst. He's taking the news incredibly well and is very stoic about the whole thing.

James, of course, was stunned by this news because he's always been very close to his father, like all his siblings. He's being stoic about it like his dad, but I know this is hurting him.

I love my father-in-law dearly. He's now much closer to me than my own father ever was. Just the thought he might only be with us a short time longer has saddened me deeply.

We are all hoping this turns out to be a false alarm and the lesion is benign. But the thought it might not be is a really grim ending to a pretty shitty week.

cookie cutter writing

A few days ago I finished reading the new novel Mischling by Affinity Konar. The book has received glowing reviews, but I was left feeling indifferent after reading it. I didn't hate it, but I didn't love it, either.

This is about the fifth or sixth book I've read this year by a writer who came out of a prestigious MFA program, and I realized after I read this most recent one, the books all have a sameness about them.

They written for adults but about children. The writing is often twee and whimsical to a point of being cloying at times. The authors all dabble in a sort of derivative magic realism. The plots are often meandering and downright episodic.

I'm thinking I should stop reading novels written by graduates of prestigious MFA programs. Hemingway and Faulkner and Fitzgerald and the like didn't learn about writing in classrooms -- they learned about it while living life.

Konar's book is set in Poland, and I recently read an interview with the author where she said she's never even been to Poland. Apparently "write what you know" is not taught in prestigious MFA programs.

Earlier today I received an email from the library informing me another book I reserved has arrived. It, too, received glowing reviews, but the author did not graduate from a prestigious MFA program, so maybe I'll like this one.

sex symbol?

I seem to regularly read here and there about how Benedict Cumberbatch is a sex symbol. I think he's a brilliant actor, but I disagree he's a sex symbol.

He has this aloof froideur that makes him almost seem sexless, IMHO. He's happily married with a child, so he obviously floats his wife's boat, but for me, it's just not happening.

a sad day

Needless to say, I am not happy about the election results now that they're all but final. The only consolation is you-know-who will not win the popular vote. But Al Gore will tell you that's not worth an awful lot at the end of the day.

Hillary Clinton is now the fifth general election candidate who won the popular vote but lost the electoral vote. NPR ran a short piece yesterday about this bit of history.

The Electoral College end-run has now happened twice in many of our lifetimes. In all candor, I do not expect the system to change anytime soon. While Democrats certainly would be motivated to make this change, it would require amending the US constitution. Given Republicans have twice benefited from Electoral College quirks, they have no incentive to change it.

This will be my last political post for a while. I'm very bummed by this election outcome, so I won't be spending much time reading about it in the near future. This blog will not be turned into a polemic against you-know-who.

Given I'm 10,000 miles away, I can largely tune out what's happening in US politics for a while. Right now, I need that to keep myself from getting too depressed about what happened. Those of you wanting to leave the US because of this election should look into relocating to Australia -- it's a lot warmer here than Canada!

In the short term, I imagine my posts will be brief and light because I'm not really in the blogging spirit right now. But I've had a daily entry for so long, I don't want to break that tradition and will continue onward.

I'm sick to my stomach

I'm posting this at 3pm here in Sydney, and the polls are just closing on the West Coast in the United States. It's too early to call the presidential race yet, but it's not looking good for Hillary Clinton.

We're leaving in a few minutes for a family function tonight. We have to get there early, so that means I'll be offline until late evening here. That's probably for the best so I won't stay glued to the computer fretting as the returns creep in.

I fear for our country if Donald Trump is our next President. I hope that will not be the case.

I am very sad right now. I hope there's a happy ending. Fingers crossed.

women's suffrage

This is a curious parody of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance," but I think it's better than the original. On this hopefully historic day, it's fitting and uplifting tribute to the enormous journey women have taken since earning the right to vote only ninety-six years ago.

Happy Election Day!

tomorrow is the most important day of your life

Hyperbole much? I know, but if you're an American, that is not an understatement.

Tomorrow is the American election, and if you're a registered voter, you must vote against Donald Trump.

It's almost certainly the most important decision you'll make this year. Maybe even this decade. And possibly your life.

This is not a left-versus-right thing. This is not a Democrat-versus-Republican thing. This is not a man-versus-woman thing.

This is a democracy versus dictatorship thing.

Yes, Trump's opponent is not perfect. She has some baggage.

But voting the other way is like saying, "this sandwich seems a tiny bit stale, so I'll just eat this filthy vacuum cleaner bag, instead."

I have collected literally hundreds of links to articles that articulate why you must not vote for Trump. Linking them all here would be serious overkill.

So I'll just link three.

First, this article from earlier in the year by a conservative columnist writing for a conservative publication lays out "Five Reasons Every American Should Oppose Donald Trump."

Second, this op-ed from a few days ago and written by a Republican speechwriter details why a vote for Trump is a vote against American democracy.

And third, this very comprehensive piece from last month provides a detailed point-by-point rationale about why a President Trump would be catastrophic for both America and the world.

Please vote tomorrow. And please vote for anyone but Donald Trump. Don't make a mistake you'll regret the rest of your life.

fart fire

I always thought flammable farts were an urban legend. However, a Japanese newspaper recently reported that a woman passed gas during surgery, which in turn sparked a fire that badly burned her.

A surgical laser allegedly ignited methane in her fart. The sudden fire burned much of her body, including her legs and torso.

An independent review body determined that no flammable materials were in the operating room when this happened and none of the equipment malfunctioned. As a result, her flatulence was deemed the culprit by process of elimination.

I have to suspect that this is an extreme rarity. I asked my MD brother if he had ever heard of such a thing, and he replied in the negative.

Nonetheless, avoiding high-fiber foods for several days before surgery might not be a bad idea if you're particularly obsessive compulsive.

life with kendall

Some guy with a mustache who gave himself the name Kirby Jenner has a growing internet following because he Photoshops himself into pictures of Kendall Jenner and bills himself as her fraternal twin brother.

His Instagram is filled with his handiwork and has 368,000 followers. He also has a Twitter where he writes about his "adventures."

Some of the photos made me laugh so hard I had difficulty catching my breath. My particular favorites are the ones where he's eating messy food in some glamourous shot and the ones where he sports a Morris the Cat T-shirt.

These are extremely well done. And on a more serious note, the whole endeavor nicely mocks superficial people whose life goal is to be a reality TV "celebrity."

autumn in new york

My favorite uncle back in the states sent me some autumnal photos he had shot in the last few weeks. He said the colors this year were the most vibrant in his memory.

It's November and spring is in full fling here in Australia. I've been living here eight years and this is the season when the inverse weather always seems the strangest to me. Summer in winter is not nearly as strange nor is the reverse.

But November makes me think of Thanksgiving and Christmas approaching, but you look outside and all you see are blossoms. The fruit trees are in full flower, and the garden and year are a riot of spring flowers.

I started humming "Autumn in New York" yesterday. I had seen some autumnal pictures online of Central Park and it just popped into my head.

Many famous artists have recorded the song -- Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra, Sarah Vaughan, and more -- but IMHO the absolute best version is this one with Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. The others were more melancholy while Ella's was more hopeful -- the absolutely perfect choice.

walker evans on the subway

I'm reading a book that mentions the legendary photographer Walker Evans's classic series of portraits made on the New York subway system. He shot all of the images with a hidden camera while riding on various cars hither and yon.

The results bluntly candid and often feature weary people without any sense of self-consciousness. Undoubtedly that would not be possible had they known they were being photographed.

The photos don't have the crisp sharpness of Walker's famous WPA works, but that likely was caused by the camera being hidden and the lack of studio lighting. There are hundreds of photos in the series, but unfortunately only a fraction of them are online.

The Metropolitan Museum seems to have the best large-scale sampling of the subway series online.

sweating the polls

Any semi-regular reader of this blog will not be surprised when I say I'm obsessed with the American election this year. I read stuff online every day about it. I pour over the latest polls.

My anxiety level has increased over the last ten days or so. Notwithstanding he's the most unqualified person ever to run in a general presidential election, Donald Trump is somehow a Teflon candidate and has been improving in the polls.

Every day more and more comes out about why he's monumentally unfit to serve. He opens his mouth and adds to the reasons why he must never be elected. He was an idiotic buffoon in the three final debates. Yet his chances keep improving.

The odds are still against him, but perhaps not as long of odds as they even recently were. Five Thirty Eight continually tweaks their aggregate polls, but they're giving him at this moment a 30 percent chance of winning. Ten days to two weeks ago, his chances were less than 15 percent.

Other poll aggregating websites are less optimistic about him. The New York Times is giving him a 12 percent chance of winning right at this moment, which is up from 7 percent only a few days ago.

From there, the other five or six poll aggregating websites I follow show his chances as much smaller. HuffPo right now has his chance at a little over 2 percent. The Princeton Election Consortium is about the same.

I think part of the reason I'm feeling anxious is because I'm halfway around the world and can't do anything myself to help stop Trump. If I was back there, I'm sure I'd be volunteering, doing something like registering voters so they could vote against him.

Six more days to go. Come on America -- I'm counting on you. Send him packing.

the pigeon tunnel

I just finished reading John Le Carre's new book The Pigeon Tunnel, which was published two months ago. This is his first-ever non-fiction book and an episodic memoir of sorts, hence its subtitle Stories From My Life.

While it's an enjoyable and fast read, I was left somewhat underwhelmed by the end. I've read some of Le Carre's books so many times that I've lost count, but Pigeon will not be in that category.

In some ways the book felt redundant because many of the best stories mirror passages about the same event in Adam Sisman's biography of Le Carre published last year. Pigeon may be a rebuttal of sorts, with the distinguished novelist giving his own spin on events.

I ended up wondering why Le Carre decided to write Pigeon after he cooperated with Sisman's book. He had to know there would be redundancy. While Le Carre tells better versions of events sometimes in his book, Sisman for his part tells better versions about other events.

The most fascinating part of Le Carre's life was arguably his time working as a spy for MI-5 and MI-6. Other than briefly and vaguely mentioning he worked for both agencies, he consciously provides no specifics in either this new book or Sisman's. Legally he may still be constrained from doing so, but that leaves any telling of his life as incomplete.

If you're a Le Carre fan like I am, I'd recommend Pigeon because you'll recognize some of the factional roots of fictional events in his novels. If, however, you've only read a few of his books, I don't really think Pigeon is worth your time.