Twenty-eleven seems an awfully long time ago, and yet these fantasies are as fresh as onions. I don’t have to update this essay.
First I was a political scientist, then a newspaper reporter, and now I write fantasy novels. Somehow they all seem to be part of the same thing.
If you can believe the fantasies doled out by our ruling class, you should have no trouble with fire-breathing dragons and invisible flying men.
Ain’t that the truth.