You know who wins the Darwin Award? All of you out there who have no children who have no children. That means the unique DNA within you that has managed to survive since that primal First Fuck comes to an end with you. In Darwinian terms you have failed. You exist now, but once you are dead that unique blend that your mom and dad accidentally created in the midst of their orgasm (or your dad’s orgasm, anyway) and that contained every single thing that you are today will not blend with whoever you in turn are orgasming with to create a brand new person with half of what created you in it. Unless that happens then once you die absolutely nothing of you survives, and you could even be more dead than the dinosaurs in the Natural History Museum because one of them might theoretically have genetically morphed into a chicken. You won’t genetically morph into anything, not even theoretically. And unless you eat that chicken before she has babies, then your chicken dinner wins and you get the Darwin Award. Congratulations.