In the near future, you’ll call your kids over to sit around the burning garbage can that heats your shack, its walls and ceiling made of scavenged corrugated iron. As they miserably chew on yet another grilled rat, you’ll cheer them up with mythical tales of the past.
“Once upon a time, there was this magical document called the Constitution. It protected you from bad people who want to do bad things to you. Then, one day, a mean, stupid man came along and tore it up…”
