Dear Mr. the Rabmag: Last night I dreamt that I was at work, except that the place where I worked was like this big one-room schoolhouse where we all had piles of construction paper and blunt scissors, and I remember the smell of paste hanging heavy in the air. The weather outside was bad, and I looked up and saw a big, angry tornado heading for us. So I started to herd people into the basement, where there were smaller classrooms also filled with construction paper and blunt scissors. And then my boss was there, and he had the Mona Lisa in his house next door—not the real painting, but the prop that had been used in the movie, and in the dream everybody knew what movie that was—and he told me to go get it from his house and bring it back to the schoolhouse basement where it would be safe. And I said, “Like heck I will! There’s a tornado out there.” And that’s all I remember. What do you think it means? —Sincerely, Ronald F. X. Ronaldson, Spring Hill.
Dear sir: It means you’re fired unless I see that painting right here in front of me in about two seconds, Ronaldson. I don’t care if it’s Noah’s Flood out there. —Oh, sorry. Sometimes we find ourselves channeling, and we don’t quite know what we’re saying. What were we talking about again?