I had a dream the other night about the man who saved the free world. He sat at a table with other men in a waterworld, submerged from the waist down and stalked by predator fish. I went under the
water to investigate the source of the man's strength—but really just to stare at him unnoticed—but nothing physically differentiated him from other men. Then I realized: the man's strength lay not in his stature, but in his words, which reflected his clean hatred of oppressive human systems.
Because of this dream, I think I now have a title for the last of two books I feel compelled to write—the one that will shatter, for the world, the diabolical Christian doctrine of eternal torment.
