It was already raining lightly when I left the office late Friday afternoon. By the time I merged onto the interstate, the gentle summer rain had turned into a gushing torrent of water. Somewhere along I-459 south of Birmingham, I could barely seen the tail lights of the car creeping along in front of me.
Traffic was bumper to bumper in all three lanes of each direction. We inched along dangerously. I was afraid of what I might hit as I kept going forward, but I was equally afraid of being hit in the rear if I didn’t move fast enough.
I simply couldn’t see what was going on — and I was afraid that trying to pull off the road was no better since I couldn’t see anything and others couldn’t see me.
So I moved along blindly — barely moving — as buckets of rain continued to fall from the sky.
And then I saw something that seemed like a faint shaft of light in the sky off to my right. The rain still beat down furiously, but where was that light coming from?

FRIDAY FUNNIES
Irrational beliefs hurt all of us when you hand power to the ignorant
In dysfunctional modern culture, porn defines ‘normal’ for millions
Minnesota protects its citizens from the horrors of free education online
Tuesday’s Senate vote reminds me of German ‘Enabling Act’ of 1933
Whether it makes sense or not, I’ve learned to expect miracles
FDA’s war on margarine is really an attack on your freedom of choice
ObamaCare must fail in long term, but conservatives can’t stop it now
Law profs: the Constitution means whatever we say it means