In the multiverse, Earth can be a wonderful place to live, and for most people is a definitive place to die. Still, despite these near certainties, there are many misunderstood points about life on our planet, and although technology has helped us better explore the mysteries of the universe, it has not provided all the answers, like why we feel lonelier the more we use it.

For example, the planet is set on vibrate and earthquakes are text messages from God. Unfortunately, no one has yet figured out how to read them on plate tectonics or when God will send another message (if He’s angry or trying to rekindle what has been, since its inception, an on-again/off-again relationship). There is less confusion over whether or not rainfall represents God’s tears. It doesn’t.

Dear Mr. Killyouwithfire,

Thank you for submitting your work to Laughing Fire Magazine. Many of the works we publish come from absolute nobodies such as yourself, who have never written anything worthwhile or had even considered writing something that others may actually want to read. Normally, due to the volume of the work we receive, and because we don’t have to, we do not send personal rejection letters to our submitters. However, on this occasion, we feel that an explanation is necessary as (we really hope) it may prevent future rejections and hard feelings.

I can no longer bear this sudden absurdity I’ve found myself in. You first approached me in class after one of my short stories had been workshopped. You told me you liked it. Now I can hear you in the bathroom exfoliating your face or darkening my towels, whatever it may be. That doesn’t even make sense. I wrote an imaginary story on paper, a silly and blatant lie, and now I have to engage in dirty, dirty coitus with you. What happened between those two points? What is this syllogism?

Author Philip Roth, quoted in a New York Times article about his recently announced retirement: “Every morning I study a chapter in iPhone for Dummies, and now I’m proficient. I haven’t read a word for two months. I pull this thing out and play with it.”

Day One: Wow, is this thing amazing! It fits so perfectly in my hand, I just can’t stop touching it. Warm to the touch, responds to my every whim. The manual says I can even make it vibrate?!

In 1847, the unrepentant 29th American Congress voted to repeal a piece of legislation, enacted in 1812, that forbade “public procreation and all acts of a carnal nature” from “finding roost within the civic eye.” This repeal caused an outcry at the time, particularly in the then-fledgling Western states. One Oklahoma columnist expressed her outrage in a church circular: “Damnation shall rain like fire upon the heads of our deeply misguided congressmen.” This prophetic conjecture was wrong in its particulars, but correct in its general thrust. Four days after that circular went to press, Democratic Speaker of the House, John Wesley Davis of Indiana, was vaulted into a fiery fissure that split open the floor of the Capitol building.