Imagine how things used to be: before men and monkeys, before the dinosaurs, before any creature crawled on land, or any fish swam. There was no television in those days, no internet, not even a single shopping mall. And yet, life did exist. Tiny organisms, insignificant, primitive, yes: but life was there, in abundance, and the sea was its home. The sea waited, brooding, biding its time, until it spat out some of its children to dry earth, so they could begin their long adventure: they were to evolve into you and me.

Now imagine how all this must end. Eventually, the Sun will run out of fuel. Long before this happens, life will have become unpleasant, then barely tolerable, then impossible. As the temperature begins its inexorable rise, as carbon dioxide levels fall and photosynthesis slows down and stops, will any sentient creature still be around to contemplate its fate? Any creature that even remotely resembles us?

Here, mid-way between life's watery birth and its fiery death, humankind longs for patterns; hints to give us precious insight. Patterns leading to a hard-won understanding; one that could allow us to predict or modify our mortal destiny.

And so, my sweet love, from this dizzying perspective, consider with me if you will, the deepest mystery of all life's mysteries. Sprinkle enlightenment, if you can. Tell me now, and tell me true: why does it matter so much if I leave the ****** toilet seat up or down?