Dear Mr. the Rabmag: Last night I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls, with vassals and serfs at my side; and, of all who assembled within those walls, that I was the hope and the pride. I had riches too great to count—could boast of a high ancestral name. But I also dreamt, which pleased me most, that you loved me still the same. What do you think it means? —Sincerely, Arline.

Dear Madam: Doubtless this dream represents a dim memory of your tragic origin story, and it is likely that you are well on your way to becoming a supervillain, if indeed you are not one already. The one consoling observation is the last part of the dream, which suggests that you may also be mad. Most supervillains are mad, and their madness invariably leads them to overstep the bounds of prudence in the execution of their diabolical plots. Although you will handily outwit the local police, and the entire United Nations will cower prostrate at your feet, it should be a relatively simple matter for the nearest costumed hero to foil your plot to destroy the world. You need not worry yourself too much about that, however: although you will appear to have perished in the blazing inferno that consumes your lair, future sequels will reveal that you survived by means of some exceedingly implausible plot contrivance.