A brick could be renamed something clever and cute, like President, and repackaged and resold to a solid base of sheep consumers every four years. The sheeple will never even notice that every new model...

A brick could be used to make the world safer for our children. Well, not our children, as I don’t actually have any kids—but certainly your children. Skeptical? A brick could better protect your children...

I use blankets like armor for cold.

A brick could be used measure the volume of love in any given bathtub. But for the test to be accurate, I’m going to need you to disrobe and step down here. Don’t worry, I’m...

A blanket could be used in exciting medical advancements, curing everything from shivers to tonitrophobia.

A brick could be used as an idol you can worship. But be careful, lest God smite thee with His wrath.

A brick could be used as a stamp on a letter, to increase the weight and boost the cost and profitability of the postal service. It would be government efficiency at its finest.

A blanket (twin, full, or queen-sized) could be placed squarely over the state of Rhode Island, and there’d still be enough blanket space left over to keep an obese man warm through a blizzard.

One brick could be used to do the work of two men, if both men are dead. In this case, a blanket could be used to cover up their decomposing corpses.

Bricks could be used like trophies. And if we give them to everyone, just for participating, then collectively we could build a big House of Emptiness.

A brick could be used to commit genocide on a small patch of grass, if you lay the brick down on the lawn and leave it there long enough. But I do not condone this...