The gimmick is as follows: you dream something, then you email Jesse to tell him about it, and then he draws up a spiffy four-panel illustration of your tormented, soul-baring, saucy imaginings. Opening lines include "I attended the 'How to be a Superhero' seminar," or "I was trying to find my way into a park that was surrounded by a huge fence," or "I had this device that translated chicken sounds into English." It doesn't make sense, logically. And yet ... somehow ... there's something universal and transcendant about the superheroism, or the walled-off park, and even the talking chicken. (It turns out that chickens just like to sing old Elvis tunes.) You don't know WHY it resonates with you, but somehow, it just does.
We found that after spending fifteen minutes reading the book, our brain had naturally adjusted to viewing everything around us as a surreal, Freudian lesson in decipherable semiotics. As we were riding BART to Oakland at the time, surrounded by several crazy muttering hobos, this was not an entirely inappropriate frame of mind.