Been a while, but this morning I had one of those dreams about saving the world. The threat to it is almost always extra-terrestrial in origin—I guess I just haven't done the research to concoct a Tom Clancy-type thriller overnight, nor must I consider economic or environmental scenarios exciting enough for my super-powered alter ego with all his Freudian compulsions—and seems this time only I knew, because everyone else blinked when the solar eclipse revealed the sun to be a orbiting spherical alien device (opening its eyelids like the robot spider in Jonny Quest, but also resembling flaming Solaris in Grant Morrison's DC One Million) clouding their minds in anticipation of, what else, the inevitable invasion. I don't remember the rest, if there was any more than teaming up with another hero and scaling the side of a cliff together, then getting stuck in a jam at a toll gate on the 110, miles from downtown, wondering how I was supposed to reach there on foot. My Matrix-like abilities didn't include flying tonight.