How does one cope with the fact that, at some point or other, one is going to die? Some of us tap our feet with impatience, muttering “Come on, already,” but for those to whom the concept of mortality is less welcome, coping strategies are available. The two suggestions here are that you live life moment to moment, not focusing on the inevitable end, or that you live life in constant awareness that death’s tapered digits are never far away from proffering that final touch on your shoulder. I suppose that both of these philosophies have aspects to recommend them, but they do seem like an awful lot of work. I’m going to stick with laying in bed in the middle of the night fantasizing about a giant sheet of ice that descends upon the city unannounced and puts me in cold storage for eternity. That and heavy drinking. The heavy drinking really helps.