The author acknowledges the contribution of David A. Caputo.

Provides instructions for building replicas of firearms, including a desert eagle, jungle carbine, and an AKS-74U.

The author's suggestions for using common household products to controls pests of all types in the yard and garden.

America’s first great organized-crime lord was a lady—a nice Jewish mother named Mrs. Mandelbaum. “A tour de force . . . With a pickpocket’s finesse, Margalit Fox lures us into the criminal underworld of Gilded Age New York.”—Liza Mundy, author of The Sisterhood In 1850, an impoverished twenty-five-year-old named Fredericka Mandelbaum came to New York in steerage and worked as a peddler on the streets of Lower Manhattan. By the 1870s she was a fixture of high society and an admired philanthropist. How was she able to ascend from tenement poverty to vast wealth? In the intervening years, “Marm” Mandelbaum had become the country’s most notorious “fence”—a receiver of stolen goods—and a criminal mastermind. By the mid-1880s as much as $10 million worth of purloined luxury goods (nearly $300 million today) had passed through her Lower East Side shop. Called “the nucleus and center of the whole organization of crime,” she planned robberies of cash, gold and diamonds throughout the country. But Mrs. Mandelbaum wasn’t just a successful crook: She was a business visionary—one of the first entrepreneurs in America to systemize the scattershot enterprise of property crime. Handpicking a cadre of the finest bank robbers, housebreakers and shoplifters, she handled logistics and organized supply chains—turning theft into a viable, scalable business. The Talented Mrs. Mandelbaum paints a vivid portrait of Gilded Age New York—a city teeming with nefarious rogues, capitalist power brokers and Tammany Hall bigwigs, all straddling the line between underworld enterprise and “legitimate” commerce. Combining deep historical research with the narrative flair for which she is celebrated, Margalit Fox tells the unforgettable true story of a once-famous heroine whose life exemplifies America’s cherished rags-to-riches narrative while simultaneously upending it entirely.

This book really speaks for itself; it has plenty of action, adventure, and romance all mix up with horror, suspense, and mystery. The storyline itself is so hard to predict but yet so believable. But most of all, it is a general treat to read.

Widely acclaimed as America's greatest living film director, Martin Scorsese is also, some argue, the pre-eminent Italian American artist. Although he has treated various subjects in over three decades, his most sustained filmmaking and the core of his achievement consists of five films on Italian American subjects - Who's That Knocking at My Door?, Mean Streets, Raging Bull, GoodFellas, and Casino - as well as the documentary Italianamerican. In Gangster Priest Robert Casillo examines these films in the context of the society, religion, culture, and history of Southern Italy, from which the majority of Italian Americans, including Scorsese, derive. Casillo argues that these films cannot be fully appreciated either thematically or formally without understanding the various facets of Italian American ethnicity, as well as the nature of Italian American cinema and the difficulties facing assimilating third-generation artists. Forming a unified whole, Scorsese's Italian American films offer what Casillo views as a prolonged meditation on the immigrant experience, the relationship between Italian America and Southern Italy, the conflicts between the ethnic generations, and the formation and development of Italian American ethnicity (and thus identity) on American soil through the generations. Raised as a Catholic and deeply imbued with Catholic values, Scorsese also deals with certain forms of Southern Italian vernacular religion, which have left their imprint not only on Scorsese himself but also on the spiritually tormented characters of his Italian American films. Casillo also shows how Scorsese interrogates the Southern Italian code of masculine honour in his exploration of the Italian American underworld or Mafia, and through his implicitly Catholic optic, discloses its thoroughgoing and longstanding opposition to Christianity. Bringing a wealth of scholarship and insight into Scorsese's work, Casillo's study will captivate readers interested in the director's magisterial artistry, the rich social history of Southern Italy, Italian American ethnicity, and the sociology and history of the Mafia in both Sicily and the United States.

Cody Wilson, a self-described crypto-anarchist and rogue thinker, combines the story of the production of the first ever 3D printable gun with a philosophical manifesto that gets to the heart of the twenty-first century debate over the freedom of information and ideas. Reminiscent of Steal This Book by Abbie Hoffman, Cody Wilson has written a philosophical guide through the digital revolution. Deflecting interference from the State Department and the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, the story of Defense Distributed -- where Wilson's employees work against all odds to defend liberty and the right to access arms through the production of 3D printed firearms -- takes us across continents, into dusty warehouses and high rise condominiums, through television studios, to the Texas desert, and beyond.

Georg Groddeck (1866-1934), who was trained as a physician but became famous for his success as a healer, introduced a radical concept in The Book of It that we virtually always cause our own illness and injury; therefore, we can cure and avoid both. Groddeck utilized the technique of psychoanalysis - which had just been invented by Freud - to communicate with the source of the illness, which he called the "the it" (or the map of the psyche). He believed the "it" had the power to cure illness as well as cause it. Perhaps science is catching up with Groddeck's notion, for modern currents in medicine suggest there is a linkage between the way we live, the way we think, and illness. Readings in behavioral medicine indicate that we do have control over our immune system; and empirical studies of behavior show a strong relationship between stress and illness. In The Interpretation of Illness, Homer goes beyond Groddeck's initial insight to emphasize that illness is a communication to others, especially a call for sympathy. No one consciously likes to be sick or hurt; but we all, consciously or unconsciously, tell others about our ills, expecting them to extend sympathy. Homer argues that if we change this pattern of communication - either by learning to forego sympathy or by gaining it in less destructive ways - we can prevent illness or alleviate existing symptoms. The change in communication involves expressing ourselves knowingly and deliberately to others. Interpretation is a series of letters from Homer, writing under the persona Augie, to a friend. Appropriately enough, this style is similar to the format used by Groddeck in The Book of the It.