NIGHTTIME FIGHT CLUB

Last night saw a bunch of weirdly confrontational dreams that I'm not sure how to interpret, if they even need to be.

- Matt Fraction and I are rival English professors. Fraction has written a play about John Malkovich, and he and I sit across a desk from each other in one of our offices and trade slit-eyed verbal barbs for an indeterminate amount of time.

- I'm at a private school, and somebody says something that causes me to knock him to the floor. I then proceed to beat the everliving shit out of him (a lot of elbow drops and kicking), but oddly, he doesn't fight back. As I'm being hauled away by the other students, I yell "I wish I had a truck and some chain -- I'd drag you facedown for a hundred miles!" What in the hell did this kid say to me? I don't remember.

I assure you that my time in the waking world is far less fraught with aggression.