At the end, when the last star dies and the cold begins to seep in, what will be the totality of our accomplishments? What will have been the point? And will anyone notice that we're gone? If the true terror at the center of cosmic horror is the vast indifference the universe has for us, does that mean the closest thing we have to any sort of compassionate connection is . . . our cats? Ah, we may be doomed.But, in the interim, perhaps there may still be some spark that can illuminate the grace and compassion that persists against the vast endlessness of unrelenting emptiness. Come with us, the...

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