Every year, tens of thousands of Irish-Americans touch down in Dublin city, their holidays devoted to the goaTourists! Your Bloomin' Attention Please!
Every year, tens of thousands of Irish-Americans touch down in Dublin city, their holidays devoted to the goal of soaking up their ancestral culture like so many hyphenated sponges. Many of these visitors purchase Ulysses, a masterpiece by one of the 20th century's most influential authors, James Joyce (1882-1941).
Those tourists are big fat suckers. I tried reading Ulysses when studying literature at UCD. I worked hard on that novel for months. In despair I reported slow progress to my tutor. "What guidebook are you using?" he inquired. Guidebooks? What? "You're not trying to followUlysses without assistance, are you?" It turns out that there's more academic scholarship on Joyce than there is on Shakespeare, and even with PhD's most of those authorities can't comprehend what's going on.
Ulysses! Just read the wikipedia entry, fellow DFA's. Otherwise you'll go home with an impression that Irish writers (and their colossal guidebooks) are something to spend a fortune on, get three chapters into and then leave with a lightened heart in the Departures bin at Dublin Airport. Let me recommend instead a book accessible to readers who are not assumed to be proficient in Victorian etiquette and ancient Greek.
Adrian McKinty's The Bloomsday Dead takes place in a single day- the sixteenth of June, 2004. That's the centenary of the events in Joyce's novel, which since 1954 has been celebrated annually as Bloomsday. Joyce's goal was to distil all of life and being into one day. McKinty manages much the same, only with a lot more action. Through a series of chapters which mirror those of Ulysses, his hero Michael Forsythe must come out of his twelve-year Witness Protection Program refuge, battle for his life, find a missing child and survive some of the most dangerous figures on three continents.
That's one of the qualities I love about The Bloomsday Dead- Joyce limited all of Leopold Bloom's wanderings to one city. Michael Forsythe's day takes him through four nations with Jack Bauer-like speed. (If you enjoyed 24 before its characters, tortures and twists became cliché, this Dead trilogy delivers.) McKinty's descriptions of each locale are written with red-hot clarity and style far more memorable than any tourist guide-book. Here's a brief episode, completely free of plot spoilers, that takes place in Belfast:
I couldn't go farther down the street because the cops had blocked off the road for a march and "historical pageant" by a small group of Independent Apprentice Boys who were re-enacting a scene from the siege of Derry. The IAB were in full regalia, sweating in the humidity. Dark suits, black ties, black bowler hats, and orange-colored sashes. The scene was the famous one where the Protestant apprentice boys locked the gates of Derry to stop the Catholic armies from capturing the city- an actually historical event that had happened over three hundred years ago. I had never heard of the re-enactment being performed in Belfast before. They'd probably gotten a cultural grant from the European Community. The "Boys" were actually forty- and fifty-year-old men with beer guts, bad mustaches, and hair so unkempt Vidal Sassoon would have broken down and wept. They were all obviously the worse for drink. The Catholic army this afternoon was an intoxicated man in a green sweater with a pikestaff.
"You're not getting in," one of the Boys was saying to him.
"Aye, no fucking way," said the other.
"We're shutting the gates," a third managed between belches.
The man in the green sweater did not seem that put out. Right in front of me, another of the Apprentice Boys climbed on top of a parked car and began stamping on the roof. It had an Irish Republic license plate and the Boy was obviously under the impression that it, too, was a representative of King James's Catholic army. A peeler went over and told him to get down. The peeler was old, fat, and bored. He tapped his service revolver once and the Boy, spooked, got off the roof.
-Page 110, Chapter: The "Rat's Nest (Belfast, June 16, 2:15 PM)"
Forsythe barrels through a world full of such vivid images. I am deliberately not revealing a single beat of the plot, and encourage any interested reader to ignore the blurb on the novel's back. Let this one take you itself.
First-class tickets! Crooked politicians! The FBI! Cops with Glocks! Milkshakes! Tire irons, .38's, RPG's and flick knives! Literary allusions! Guys who lick money to prove it is poison-free! And a scorching hot redhead!The Bloomsday Dead has every element that a completely satisfying thriller should have- and it sends the reader away with vivid imagery of Dublin and Belfast. This is brass-knuckled, brainy, climactically cracking good craic.
Though The Bloomsday Dead is the concluding instalment in McKinty's Michael Forsythe series, there's no gaps evident. I picked it up on a friend's recommendation and read it straight through without any head scratching. My few niggles are that some of the Joyce similarities felt forced (the first line, for instance) and some of the baddies are similar to what's appeared in books before.
Critical Mick says: I recommend Denis McEoin/Jonathan Aycliffe's The Lost over Stoker's Dracula, too, so I may well be making enemies. Still, for a tour and a taste of Irish culture, skip Ulysses and pick up a masterpiece guaranteed to send you home happy, educated and enlightened- Adrian McKinty's The Bloomsday Dead. This one was shortlisted for the 2009 Oo award for Best Book Mick Read in 2009.
Agatha Christie, spinning in her grave, might be the clean renewable energy source the world has been looking for. This debut novel was exactly what IAgatha Christie, spinning in her grave, might be the clean renewable energy source the world has been looking for. This debut novel was exactly what I was looking for, anyway. ...more
Ten.C.S. Lewis, like Stuart Neville, was born in Belfast. Both became writers. Both wrote extraordinary popuTen Things You Must Know About The Twelve
Ten.C.S. Lewis, like Stuart Neville, was born in Belfast. Both became writers. Both wrote extraordinary popular fiction which used elements of the fantastic to expose deeper themes.
Nine. Can redemption be found in the bottom of a glass? The first paragraph of The Ghosts of Belfast, reads: "Maybe if he had one more drink they'd leave him alone. Gerry Fagan told himself that lie before every swallow. He chased the whiskey's burn with a cool black mouthful of Guinness and placed the glass back on the table. Look up and they'll be gone, he thought.
Eight. The Twelve who torment this former IRA gunman Gerry Fagan are visions of the people he has slain: three British soldiers, two members of the Ulster Defence Regiment, two UFF men, an RUC officer, and four civilians (one an infant) as collateral damage. Are these (as Fagan's prison psychologist stated) manifestations of his guilt? Or is their origin supernatural?
Seven. Either way, when the spectres begin demanding bloody vengeance from Fagan, it makes a hell of a good crime novel. The victims that Fagan's phantoms demand may now cloak themselves with respectability and wear politicians' suits, but underneath they remain the same hard schemers. These sharp survivors determine quickly that someone is stacking up bodies across Northern Ireland, and they have not forgotten their very efficient ways of pursuing who is responsible. In this book, Neville very cleverly makes an investigation into the nature of responsibility.
Six.The Ghosts of Belfast, also known as The Twelve, merits comparison with the best crime stories of recent decades. If Gerald Seymour (author of Harry's Game and Field of Blood) loved Martin Scorsese's The Departed so much that he somehow had sex with it, the bastard child would be Stuart Neville's The Ghosts of Belfast.
Five. Like fellow Oo nominee The Bloomsday Dead, the action in Stuart Neville's The Ghosts of Belfast takes place in today's Northern Ireland. From immigration to economic development to politics to crime to lingering sectarian hatred, Stuart Neville delivers a post-Troubles portrait that is brutal and fascinating.
Four. The character of Gerry Fagan is more than a loose nut that has worked its way free and gone jamming up the works. Glimpses of his past and budding attachments present him as a complex character. Fagan feels a strong attraction to tall, ash-blonde reporter Marie McKenna: a local outcast for taking up with a traitorous Catholic member of the RUC, seven years past. Can he, who has never known it, find love? What about the more realistic goal: a degree of comfort?
Three. The theme of old loyalties questioned and reversed in today's complex political environment is also explored through deadly Scottish interloper Davy Campbell. A former member of the Black Watch, amazingly serving the Republican movement-? And now thrown in (when introduced) with a splinter group holding up post offices south of the border-? One of the most interesting players in The Ghosts of Belfast, Campbell is as surprising a force as Fagan. Or is there just a violence in both men that needs expression-?
Two. Stuart Neville's writing is fast-paced and character-driven, with more depth, pressure and rapid turns than a submarine battle. Great forces are engaged, and things long buried come exploding to the surface.
One.Critical Mick says: for these reasons, Mr. Neville's absorbing debut novel, The Ghosts of Belfast, was hereby awarded the 2009 Oo award for Best Book Read in 2009. ...more
Despite his name, Cricket Martini-Curls was a tea man. He despised how fellow members of the criminal aristocracy assumed he could be appeased with onDespite his name, Cricket Martini-Curls was a tea man. He despised how fellow members of the criminal aristocracy assumed he could be appeased with one of those vermouth concoctions. Fools! One would think that the magnificent Martini-Henry rifles which had conquered half the world would have made a lasting impression. Two cups of Tetley’s, leaves couriered from the most underhanded tea shop in Edinburgh?, soothed his temper sufficiently that chief henchman Simcoe Alehops dared to approach his decommissioned Soviet Balzam-class intelligence ship’s command chair again.
"Apologies, sir, but there was a call on the sat phone. A distressing incident at your son’s school."
Ah, young Karl! Probably put a few of the older aspiring criminal geniuses into Schola Sceleratorum’s infirmary again. A generation of supervillains would long remember Karl’s cunning in battle and superior physical prowess- a miniscule price for any momentary trouble with the headmaster. "Proceed, Alehops. Spare no detail."
His henchman shifted from foot to foot, appearing ready to duck behind the radar console. "The academy requires a small tuition increase to cover recent damage. Very small. Well. Doubling, in fact."
"What?" Martini-Curls vaulted from his command chair as if the boat had been struck by a missile. "How? Why?"
"It seems," Alehops quivered from behind cover, "it’s all the fault of a student from Legatum."
"Legatum Continuatum!" Britain’s hated secret academy for young detectives. Every underworld kingpin’s nemesis was an alumnus of that exclusive school. Cricket Martini-Curls longed for nothing in the world so much as to cause its towers to crumble. Many of his peers had tried. None yet had been able to penetrate its defences or out-manoeuvre its faculty of goody-goody investigators to slay its brood of teen detectives.
"The student’s name is Amanda Lester. A descendant of Sherlock Holmes’ vile law enforcing halfwit, Inspector Lestrade."
"Amanda Lester, eh?" Martini-Curls hurled his teacup, missing a damned cat who leapt to the salvation of the comms station with a hiss. "Tell me more."
"The Moriarty family has compiled extensive files," Alehops shared eagerly. Blixus Moriarty, Cricket’s old roommate at Schola Sceleratorum! The world had not forgotten his illustrious great-great uncle, the lucky worm. "Amanda Lester, age twelve, transferred in this past January. Initially she had difficulty settling in to Legatum, with its classes on pathology, toxicology, disguise and other crime-fighting skills. I understand that detective work held no appeal for her. She aspired to be a film director like the famous Darius Plover, back in her native Los Angeles."
Film. As if endless enigmatic species of myxomycetes did not promise warty plasmodia enough for a lifetime of fascinating scientific study! Martini-Curls simply could not understand the youth of today. "We have a mole inside Legatum, do we not? Could our sleeper not sabotage this fish-out-of-water Lestrade and undermine the morale of the student population?"
Alehops furiously consulted his notes, white cat hair flying about. "Ah! Yes, sir, there are observations here that could only have been gathered by someone planted inside the school! Amanda Lester faced challenges considerable enough to make most children despair, but with the help of friends like Amphora Kapoor, Nick Muffet, Ivy Halpin and Simon Binkle she... well, obviously must have triumphed over those challenges if she was able to obliterate your son’s-"
"OBLITERATE?" Martini-Curls screamed. Schola Sceleratorum, obliterated?
"When I said tuition fees doubled," Alehops danced with practiced agility, dodging everything Cricket could throw at him, "I meant, doubled by a scale of ten. I don’t know the word for when they add an extra zero to the price."
"Yes, they simpletoned the bill. Place needs to be rebuilt, really."
Martini-Curls grabbed the nearest Chinchilla Persian and wound his arm back, but the spitting beast’s claws dug deep into sleeve and flesh and made it impossible to throw. Cricket felt like a fool, hopping around the bridge screaming expletives and flailing a cat. Simcoe Alehops eventually set a hot cup of relaxing tea at his command chair. Cricket collapsed, grudgingly appreciating that his chief henchman was not altogether worthless. "You handle the expenses for my son’s school, Alehops. Please tell me that you were trying to extort an inflated sum from your employer, like any competent criminal would."
Alehops blushed again. "I was, sir. Not quite ten times an increase. It’s eight."
"Damn that ingenious Amanda Lester!" Martini-Curls quietly savored a sip, belligerent Persian still clinging to his forearm. "This ship cannot afford any increase! Can you conceive how completely I have invested into this sugar opportunity? And today’s smuggling operation?" Rats squeaked in surprise. Cats stopped chasing them. The battered heads of the full crew swiveled at that too-loud pronouncement. "Mu-ha, I meant," Cricket recovered, "of course you’ll all be paid! Back wages and everything. Mu-ha! Alehops, please report the favorable news."
"Good news? Of course, sir, if you wish! It is not all easy sailing for Amanda Lester. She has weaknesses. Her best friend is blind. That should be a doddle to exploit. Her weakness for cute boys, too! Her relationship with her parents is notably strained. That is an area where adversaries like ourselves can cause her pain. Plenty of opportunity for conflict, unless she grows and develops."
"Excellent!" Martini-Curls drained his cup. Simcoe had ducked behind two of the larger mercenaries. "What now? Expound, Alehops, or be damned!"
"A second call came through, from our del- erm, smugglers," Alehops proffered. "I’m afraid they’ve been nabbed by detectives ashore. They rang requesting you to organize a solicitor."
"Dimwits! And the slow lorises?"
"For the vetting process, the buyer brought her own veterinarian, sir. All had a bad dose of monkey pox, I’m afraid. Wouldn’t part with a cent."
All those eyes stared unblinking again. "What, the scope of exotic pet smuggling is second only to illegal narcotics!" Martini-Curls vehemently defended. "There’s a lot of money in monkeys. Usually. Just not this time."
"So we’re not getting paid?" Simcoe dared. The crew menaced a step closer.
Schola Sceleratorum had a semester-long study of the Technique and Application of Mu-ha-ha-ha. Martini-Curls had earned one of his few A’s. He demonstrated now that his skills remained undiminished. The crew were visibly reassured. "Of course you will get your due! Mu-ha! On a completely unrelated note, look off to our port bow! No, your other port! Left, ‘port’ means ‘left’! Do you see that? Keep looking out to sea, quell! There, on the horizon, I see a purple rainbow approaching."
Pocketing the ship’s precious orange crystal, Cricket crept through the hatch and into his escape craft. Motoring across rough swells at speed, he realized he had forgotten his bug-out bag stuffed with bundles of tea and Swiss francs. Tears streaming from the salty gale, Cricket Martini-Curls vowed revenge against that meddling girl.
The cat on his sleeve growled and eyed him malevolently. ...more
Operation Robot Storm is the first of his new series wherein a hairy band of heroes (and their human friends) secArmed, Dangerous, and Covered in Fur!
Operation Robot Storm is the first of his new series wherein a hairy band of heroes (and their human friends) secretly save the world from a mad array of supervillains. The whole series is pure all-ages adventuresome fun. Action, comedy, cool gadgets, danger, twists, yaks sailing through the air: this is creativity that will spark any kid's imagination, and will keep Mom, Dad or whoever is reading to them amused. The series is perfect for reluctant readers or kids graduating into chapter books. Each new chapter opens with a few pages of comic book before blending into well-illustrated prose, and the educational content is present but never preachy.
Rather than summarize the plot of Operation Robot Storm, allow me to recommend viewing the promotional trailers on YouTube. They show what the book is about, and give a flavor for the style in which the story is told. My kid has watched each a couple dozen times, and he has gone and hooked his cousin and a friend on the Mythical 9th.
Any book comes with a few niggles, but when the most salient detraction that comes to mind is a typo, it's best to just skip to the seven-word summary: HIGHLY RECOMMENDED BY CRITICAL MICK AND SON. ...more
Author of academic texts such as The Cognition of Geographic Space, Maynooth-based Rob Kitchin demonstrates with The Rule Book that can also write ficAuthor of academic texts such as The Cognition of Geographic Space, Maynooth-based Rob Kitchin demonstrates with The Rule Book that can also write fiction convincingly. His debut novel opens with the discovery of a woman's body at the Glencree Centre for Peace and Reconciliation, murdered by a sword in what appears to be a bizarre sacrifice. Nearby is a typed note, headed "The Rules: Chapter One M: Choosing a victim R" and business cards which read "The Rule Book: A Self-Help Guide to would-be serial killers. In all good bookshops soon."
A killer- soon to be known in the media as The Raven- vows to deliver his rule book one chapter, one victim per day over the course of a week. To catch him and save six lives, a recently-widowed member of An Garda Síochána named Detective Superintendent Colm McEvoy must find the strength and smarts to identify the boldest serial killer Ireland has ever seen.
Praise is very much due for breaking the mystery genre's cornier rules. In almost every crime film or feature, for example, the baddie turns out to be a character with whom the detective has been acquainted all along. The murderer in 1980's courtroom drama Suspect, for instance, turning out to be the judge trying Cher's case. Ugh! That might be a twist that conforms to literary convention, but it's about as likely in reality as mega-hottie Paulina Porizkova developing a deep sexual fixation with an irreverent online reviewer.
The Rule Book deserves praise for breaking one other golden diktat of detective fiction, but for that readers have to wait for Kitchin's Epilogue. Nothing is predictable.
Critical Mick says: The Rule Book puts Rob Kitchin on the Irish Crime map. It's gripping, gruesome, and a hell of a fun puzzle. It shows careful research (right down to the latitude and longitude of various points around Dublin's Phoenix Park) and digs deep into an interesting character. I was kept guessing until the end, desperately hoping that this novel would not go the crappy Hollywood route. There is a town called Hollywood in Ireland, but this serial killer's spree gives it a wide berth.
The Dark Place follows Karl Kane, the gritty, gripping detective introduced in 2008's Bloodstorm. This second in the series conforms to the familiar n
The Dark Place follows Karl Kane, the gritty, gripping detective introduced in 2008's Bloodstorm. This second in the series conforms to the familiar norms of the PI genre: after a teasing, terrifying prologue Kane is seen sitting in his sweltering office on Belfast's Hill Street. In walks a woman in trouble- this time, a teenaged heroin addict whose younger sister, Martina Ferris, has disappeared. The client is deperately worried and the cops are not interested in looking for a recovering junkie with a reputation for running away, so it is down to debt-ridden Kane to take the case.
Kane's investigation takes him through the underbelly of city and society, into peripheral contact with corrupt and outmatched cops, and into his own painful past. As bodies pile up and his enemies circle in, Karl Kane learns what is rotten and terrifying behind the respectable facades of the city's elite and institutions (literally, in certain cases!). Fans of the PI form will be pleased- and be pleased that Millar is not afraid to break conventions. By the climax, there is no predicting which way Millar is going to play it out.
The places that Kane goes on his journey are exceptionally dark. Imagine Philip Marlowe investigating the disappearances from Se7en or Saw. Marlowe would probably take the first flight back to LA, but Kane is a wee harcore Norn Iron man. Graphic and violent with more deviant sex than Val McDermid and the most convincing drug trip since Gene Kerrigan's The Midnight Choir, Millar's Belfast is worlds away from the catchy punk rock jaunt of Colin Bateman's Divorcing Jack.
Like Bateman, Millar leavens his grit with humor. With Martina Ferris missing and other young, violated bodies turning up, Kane cannot sit comfortably back hammering out his own manuscripts and studying the racing papers. Is it because old Karl is a valiant knight at heart? Erm, no. He cannot sit still because he is the only PI in all of crime fiction with raging hemorrhoids.
Piles aside, Millar's dialogue is sharp and fast. The writing has real originality. I had never before heard of the villain's disturbing MO, and the manner in which Kane learns the killer's identity is both plausible and something that would never have come from an American PI novel.
WARNING: The country which invented the Internet is presently the most vulnerable to an attack from it.
In the 1970’s, the US Defense Department’s AdvaWARNING: The country which invented the Internet is presently the most vulnerable to an attack from it.
In the 1970’s, the US Defense Department’s Advanced Research Project Agency (DARPA) laid the groundwork for the Internet. This communications system, initially developed by the military, has over the past 40 years become used by industry, commerce, social networks- almost every aspect of contemporary life. Richard A. Clarke’s Cyber War: The Next Threat to National Security and What to Do About It is a wake-up call written from a White House insider, illustrating what would happen if a foreign power used the Internet against the US. Specifically: crashing the national power grid, SCADA systems (controls for utilities, generators, transformers, pumps, and similar systems), air traffic control, financial databases, and many other components of critical infrastructure which are currently accessible through the Internet and are alarmingly poorly defended.
More than forty nations control dedicated teams of cyber warriors, preparing methods of attack. Cyberspace has become a “battlespace.” While the US has the world’s best internet-based attack capabilities, other nations have superior defenses for their infrastructure. Clarke demonstrates how weapons systems and also the civilian computer networks that manage communications, transport, banking, utilities, can be (and have been- lots of real-world examples) damaged or controlled from a remote location anywhere in the world. Every year additional nations ramp up their cyberwar units- the US, Russia, China, France, North Korea. The world has gone all Die Hard 4.
Cyberwar was initially published in 2010, with this paperback edition released in 2012 with a new appendix about the Stuxnet worm- a real-life proven instance of how the US and Israeli cyberwar units wrote a malicious program to sabotage Iran’s nuclear program. His information is good and corresponds to reading I have done on it as a Computer Information Systems Security Professional. A good start towards more comprehensive details on Stuxnet can be found on Symantec's site. Also see their article on the Stuxnet 0.5: The Missing Link.
This book is certain to be updated with another “told you so!” appendix, as another of Clarke’s major reported real-world cyber attacks has been verified: the People’s Republic of China’s systematic theft of terabytes of R & D data from US military contractors and other companies. (They also hacked into Obama’s campaign computers when he was running for president in 2008, stealing draft policy documents.) In a damningly conclusive report released in February 2013, a computer incident and response company called Mandiant supplied proof that the intrusions and exfiltrations from their customers were state-sponsored hacking from the PRC. Specifically, they tracked a group of thieves they knew as “APT (Advanced Persistent Threat) 1” back to Shanghai and determined it was the 2nd Bureau of the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) GSD 3rd Department, commonly known as Unit 61398. That report is highly recommended reading.
Though written for a popular audience rather than a technical one, Cyber War provides accurate detail. Clarke points out that many unexpected devices are connected to the Internet- everything from elevators to photocopiers to valves at power plants. These are intended to “phone home” for maintenance reasons and to avail of software updates, but this connection can be exploited for other purposes.
Rather than just sound the alarm, Cyberwar proposes a Defensive Triad to improve the US’s posture. This book is a call upon Obama to improve security on the national Internet backbone, secure the controls for the national power grids, and vigorously pursue security upgrades for Defense IT systems. It is a message that should be heard by government, industry, and all people depending on the Internet today- which is just about everyone. No surprise that Cyberwar was a big seller.
The book is also filled with Clarke’s insider observations and insights. For example, George Bush I had an ulterior motive for destroying Saddam Hussein’s military might in 1991. The Iraqi army- fourth largest in the world- was equipped with Soviet-designed weaponry. Blasting that to shit (partly through the use of emerging smart technologies) was intended as a demonstration to the Chinese and other nations reliant upon those same types of tanks and guns. The new F-117 Stealth fighter-bombers were used in the 1989 invasion of Panama “because the Pentagon wanted to show off its new weapon to deter others.” (page 194)
George W. Bush was a president who comes off poorly in Cyberwar. Clarke freely admits that NSA under Bush and Cheney routinely performed illegal surveillance and other actions. He reports that Donald Rumsfeld and other Bush Administration officials advocated invading Iraq because Afghanistan did not have enough targets to bomb. George W. Bush was a president who would rush through decisions without giving the matter thought, one who left regulatory commissions vacant so that government security decisions were not enforced, a president who violated the Convention Against Torture and “never saw a covert-action proposal he didn’t like.” (page 114) When considering what actions that nation should take, Bush would defer to the CEOs of companies that had made large political donations to his election committees. True, there were moves to protect the government’s networks on Bush’s watch (Comprehensive National Cybersecurity Initiative and National Security Presidential Decision 54) but crucial time was lost as other nations took greater measures in the emerging field of computer security.
A final note: Clarke confirms (page 93) the CIA’s 1982 sabotage of the Soviet Urengoy–Surgut–Chelyabinsk natural gas pipeline. The KGB had been stealing Western technology: the CIA learned of this and introduced a flaw into automated pump and valve controls. The explosion was the world’s largest non-nuclear explosion- over three kilotons. This explosion occurred in a unpopulated area and so no casualties occurred. This early example of successful SCADA system sabotage demonstrates the potential of what could occur today if nations do not secure their systems correctly. CybrWar is real, with real-world consequences. Successful attacks have been occurring for decades, and will continue throughout this century. ...more