Despite their menacing appearance, black rifles are now the guns of choice for many US hunters, target shooters and would-be home defenders
By Andrew Park
Last February, Jim Zumbo, a burly, 66-year-old outdoors writer, got a phone call at his home near Cody, Wyoming, from the rock star — and outspoken Second Amendment champion — Ted Nugent. "You messed up, man," Zumbo says Nugent told him. "Big time."

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The Muslim's memoir describes his flirtation with radical Islam and subsequent dismay at aspects of the religion
By Jane Perlez
Ed Husain remembers the man as a kindly soul, not the sort you would suspect of recruiting for a radical Islamic group. As a teenager already in rebellion against his upstanding middle-class parents, who had raised him as a sort of Muslim choirboy, young Mohammed — his original first name — was an easy target.

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What could be more quirky than a vintage TVR sprots car?
By Rob Sass
Like the mythical Monty Python castle built on a swamp, which sank three times only to be rebuilt three times, one of Britain's last sports car makers has risen again after several near-death experiences and ownership changes.

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By Raymond Thibodeaux
At first light, thousands of Indians come to the temple landings along this bend of the Ganges River to bathe in the water, which in Hindu religious belief purifies their souls. But the water itself is far from pure.

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Phil Spector, the tiny, Napoleonic, gun-toting rock 'n' roll genius is laid bare, with warts aplenty including cruelty, possible inbreeding and self-destruction
By Janet Maslin
In December 2002, the British journalist Mick Brown was driven by Phil Spector's chauffeur in Phil Spector's white Rolls-Royce to Phil Spector's gloomy castle in Alhambra, California, for a spooky interview with Phil Spector, who wore black silk pajamas and made a grand entrance to the strains of Handel.

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Though the sort of sly self-awareness that exists in the `Baywatch' star's biography is a compulsive need to talk about how great he is, the man is quite likeable
By Leslie Gray Streeter
You can't judge a book by its cover, but the very first page of Don't Hassel The Hoff pretty much nails this brazen masterwork of self-promotion.

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