the sky is actually the floor of Heaven’s Barber Shop.
clouds are the freshly cut hair of the gods strewn across the divine barber’s floor.
a tornado is the barber pole, therefore the Midwest is the entrance to Heaven’s Barber Shop.
lightning is the sparks that fly when the divine barber clips the electrified hair of the gods.
the wind is the divine barber’s broom sweeping up the clouds.
planes are lice; even our gods are lousy.