Is there a clear definition between fiction and reality? I’d argue there isn’t. We spend an enormous amount of our lives asleep, ostensibly dreaming. Some of my dreams are as real to me as anything that’s happened in real life. I have recurring dreams that cycle back like a comet every decade or so. In reading fiction we invest our mind into worlds that in many cases don’t exist. And yet, they do. Combine that with being “psychedelicized” (as the Chambers Brothers put it) back in the ’60s, and some days it’s hard to tell the difference.