A Note From the Brink of Disaster

The think tank is spooky at night, and the hairstylist wants to know if I am afraid of ghosts. There is not a spirit who I wouldn’t be happy to meet, I tell her, and if there are any in this building they will certainly come looking for me. Because my creative impulses are finding similar beats in people ready to make some noise. Thieves are in charge, more here in Iceland than anywhere else in the world, and they are using the national values of family to keep the citizenry in the dark. So people fed up with being ripped off by a handful of redneck aristocrats find my quixotic campaigns either amusing or inspiring, and new friends seem to be everywhere, tuned to the possibilities of revolt. It makes for an interesting new year, when anything can happen and probably will.