This particular time, I was trying to find out what human flesh tastes like. I guess I could’ve done some field research as well, but I don’t think that would be very popular. Asking on twitter would’ve been another solution, but I have a funny feeling people would unsubscribe if someone answered; “They taste like chicken, quite delicious, really! Try with some mushroom sauce as well, and potatoes on the side. Oh, and find someone young, because old people-” You get where I’m going with this.

So anyway, this whole ordeal got me thinking; in today’s angst-ridden, terrorist-fearing, big-brother-is-watching type society: Can we possibly get away with researching anything we want?

What if you’re writing a novel along the lines of Tom Clancy or Robert Ludlum, with corrupt governments, homemade bombs and planes crashing into other planes crashing into five-sided buildings? What if your hero is a suburban housewife suddenly set upon by waves of drug-crazed hobos, and she desperately needs to get her hands on a fully loaded M4 carbine Assault Rifle. Maybe it’s 8:00 a.m on a Sunday morning, and your lead character’s crazy kids decide to Anthrax-prank someone – but you don’t know what that stuff looks like! (Or where to get it…)