h/t Daily Timewaster
The future is always a foreign country, and nobody so far has come back to tell us what it looks like in any great detail.
Anything may happen, but as far as the choice lies in my hands, I'm doing my level best to go out in one of two ways:
I'm either going to die of old age, in a brass bed, surrounded by the living remnants of my tribe;
Or in a bed of hot brass, of old ideals, surrounded by the former members of someone else's.
I'm getting less picky about which, with each passing day.