From previous books we recognize Roscoe Forthright as the Prankster, like Coyote in Navajo myth, like the Welsh, Gwydion. Our Roscoe boinks beautiful young women, spouting philosophy as he spurts, quoting the Upanishads, the Tao and the Bhagavad Gita. We can hardly take him seriously. In this small book we notice a seriousness, an attempt to communicate the most difficult idea: Our human capacity for self-deception. Our general inability to accurately...