One of my dreams last night involved a portrait of Lenny Bruce made out of cornflakes. This is odd, because I very rarely think of Lenny Bruce, and almost as rarely of cornflakes. I wonder sometimes how the subconscious constructs these things. Does it just dip into a pool of nouns and come up with something random? Could it have just as easily been a bust of Zero Mostel made from rice krispies? Should I be sitting here trying to figure out exactly what Lenny Bruce means, and what the cornflakes mean, and what it has to do with sex? Like I have time for that. Well, I do have the time, but not the inclination. Figure it out for me if you’d like.