But I love this. We did this thing this week where we asked people to tell us what they would do with their last five hours, just in case the Hadron Collider did in fact bring about instant oblivion. There was a really strange sense that came from what people wrote. I don’t want to take it all too seriously, but there was an amused serenity about the last things they wanted to do. And I wondered if that was something you might find individually in the face of a quiet little death, or if it was a function of this collective anticipation … if us all going down together made it somehow easier to navigate.

Poor Warren. He just got fucked up. This is the song he wrote when they told him he had cancer. Cool riff.