Last night, Ronald Reagan appeared to me in a dream. He was young and spry, and dressed as a line-dancer, in a horrid pinkish shirt, a string tie, a cowboy hat and boots. He was sitting on a rocking chair on a wooden deck, strumming an acoustic guitar. In this dream, Reagan spoke to me...

He told me how happy he was, running his abortion clinic; and how happy he was that Jesus had made him queer.

Was this just a dream? Or a message, from beyond the grave? Is the pneumatic essence of Reagan queerly aborting babies in Heaven even as we speak? This is clearly a matter for theologians.