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I remember have very weird dreams last night, which were, for some reason, in a Lord of the Rings theme. (This is particularly bizarre because I hadn't come into any particular contact with any LotR stuff.) My brain made a few...er...alterations to the script, though.

However, the real oddity was that at some point, I got up, scribbled something in my sketchbook, and went back to bed. This morning, reading it, it says:

"But our fathers told us to watch for God!" the men said.
"My father told me not to play with blowguns and to always have enough fire departments," said God, and walked off down the street.

I got no idea on that one.

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it's a single panel
intended for
the New Yorker

Seems like good advice to me.

My father told me not to play with blowguns and to always have enough fire departments," said God

Words to live by.

Digger would surely approve of that. :) (I imagine that they take fire very seriously indeed underground.)

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I think this is another reminder about the no raw bacon rule. :)

I must say, I'm intrigued by the LotR dreams. What "alterations to the script"?

Well, the one ring turned into a small glowy orb, I (as Frodo?) could pass through walls, Gollum was a small, obnoxious child chasing me, and Aragorn died. And when encountering the ents, the chief ent was heard to say "Quick! Everyone put your faces on!" and showed up looking like giant mutant Campbell soup kids.

It was a little odd.

Sounds like fairly normal dream-odd to me... but what's a Campbell soup kid?

(I don't live in America, you see, if that makes any difference.)

Here's an idea. maybe the men were watching for God by the light of blowtorches?

It has the same sort of feel to it as a certain West Wing episode anecdote, about how there's a guy whose house is being swallowed up in a flood and people keep offering to rescue him and he keeps refusing becaue G*d will save him, then he drowns and when he gets to heaven, he asks G*d, yo dude, you were supposed to save me, what's up with that? And G*d says, who do you think sent the neighbors, the firefighters, the Red Cross, and the National Guard over to your house in boats, moron?

Or, ya know, something to that effect.

So I can see this as the moral of a long story involving men who are certain of their salvation and the protection of G*d, running around with blowguns, and who have failed to properly fund their local fire departments because, after all, G*d will save them (I wonder if that's why our local ambulance service is going bankrupt), and then civilization collapses around their ears, and... well, there you have it!

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