Sitting in the fading sunshine of the dead end of a summers’ day with a beer and a smoke, outside a bar or on a hill or at a river or at the beach or in my living room, not moving at all, blinking into the sun, with the knowledge that at the same time I’m propelled with 1,674.4 km per hour away from the sun and into the dark side of the Milky Way just by sitting here on this uneven rotating ball of cooled-down magma and salt water together with the other 6.9 billion lemmings.