Whenever I see someone throw a cigarette out their window, I want to chase them down and make a citizen’s arrest.
Of course I don’t.
I think, Eh fuck it. I’ll be dead soon.
The children can worry about the environment when they grow up.
But they’ll be living on a space station anyway, in a pod, plugged into a nice clean virtual reality matrix, fed intravenously by a nutrient broth, so…
they’ll have that going for them.
Which sounds pretty nice.