I’m listening to Sæglópur by Sigur Ros, and the opening nineteen seconds are perhaps the most satisfying soundtrack for existential fatigue - the whole song is magical, but loop the first nineteen seconds, don your favorite crunchy sweater, and let your eyes fall out of focus, as if peering into the blissful, infinite void, and you’ll feel unbothered by the Impossibility of Knowing, the only certainty, when all this is over, being your booking a ticket to Iceland and never coming back, until realizing they offered asylum to conspiracy theorist and raving anti-semite Bobby Fisher, who I’ve been told was also passably decent at a board game, and I hope you’re all doing ok and boy quarantine is weird.