Last night, I dreamt I was trapped in a space capsule with Gene Wolfe and Patrick Nielsen Hayden, in a circumlunar orbit. It was pretty comfortable, as space capsules go; there was a wet bar. Mr Wolfe was pounding his cane on the capsule floor and demanding that Mr Nielsen Hayden immediately pilot us onto a collision course with the Earth...

In other, less sleepy, news, I have a home again. This one is absolutely totally not on fire, not even a bit. Believe me, I've checked. The damage to my books seems to be largely confined to soot on the covers, which wipes right off; sometimes the edges of the pages have absorbed a little of the stuff, and I'm not quite sure how to go about removing it without destroying the book, but this is a minor issue. I fear the dust jackets of some of the hardcovers may be beyond hope. Everything is still perfectly readable, though.

Unfortunately, the presidential election was not just some kind of horrible nightmare. Although when one learns that Alberto 'Torture Memo' Gonzales has been nominated to replace 'Crisco Johnny' Ashcroft as Attorney General of the United States of America, one begins to suspect that the line between nightmare and reality is becoming strangely blurred...

And for that, I, like millions of other Americans, am very and truly sorry.