It’s four o’clock in the morning; January 6; Northern Hemisphere: The pilot light on my furnace is out and has been out all night long. Things have gotten chilly.
I have spent the past 30 minutes performing my wonderful Sun Dance. I am proud to say I invented the dance myself, and — quite unlike so many superficially similar, but merely superstitious dances of no real value — my dance has never failed to sooner or later cause the sun to rise. All should be well then.