I sat, quietly, in the dirty seat, empty bottles of beer and peanut shells at my feet. My throat was sore from shouting chants and pleas, my hands bruised from fruitless rooting. <i>How could this have happened?</i> As the stadium emptied out, leaving behind only rows of orange and blue paint, an painful truth sank in: This is how it ends.

The Beeb has an animated "front line" Western Front feature. Its only weakness is that it is antiseptic, which <I>that</I> war was definitely not.

Play "Match the kink to the rock star" with Pamela Des Barres.

Gareth Rees calculates that the British archers at Agincourt might have rained 50,000 arrows a minute for a solid eight minutes onto the French. So if you were snorting derisively at the title's combination of "medieval" and "physics," consider this: Agincourt was, essentially, the first battle where conventional cavalry tactics met the equivalent of the machine gun.

Silicon Valley's culture didn't begin with Hewlett and Packard's garage or, for that matter, the "treacherous eight" from Fairchild Semiconductor. The stage was set in 1909, in the wake of the great quake&mdash;and at the birth of radio.

A moment of silence, please, for the mouse in my shed: I've had a trap there for weeks, baited with peanut butter&mdash;I should have just waited for the food poisoning to do its work&mdash;and the poor little bastard finally found it.