Why laugh at the Apocalypse?

Because misery is not a goddamn moral requirement

A long time ago, on a gray, rainy day in central Ukraine, the body of my paternal grandfather was going into the ground. My cousin and I were charged with standing by as goodbyes were said and the coffin was eventually lowered, holding a portrait of Grandpa Anatoly that was much too big and heavy for two weeping kids. Nearby, a bunch of men that grandpa…