I came back here to comment about Her Thirties:

I was born at a time when we did not know of the truths below the facade we were allowed to see. The 50s to the 80s were our years of innocence.

For instance,:

Then I really began to get weirded out. I wondered if this was all some government psych ops project and whether I was undergoing some kind of mind manipulation—that would certainly account for the dreams.

None of us of those years would have had such thoughts. They only belonged to science fiction, instead of to hard cruel facts or real possibilities of our lives right now.

When I was young, I wished I could live those years of the science fiction I loved reading; now, I sometimes wish the world had not allowed me to see how ugly it has become.