I have to start somewhere

As if it's necessary for there to be one more voice floating out in the ether; and in more ways than one it's not, I feel compelled to add my valuable two cents. Not that I will be regaling you with lurid tales of my own personal fetishes; there seems to be plenty of that about; nor will I be dishing about other people as I know very few and I see no reason to offend what few people I still know. I feel the responsibility to pontificate in grave voice on the meaning of all things whether I know what I'm talking about or not. And let's be honest, this isn't a medium of august rumination; look at it's affectation: blog. More like something found in a living room after a party gone bad. It may turn out to be just that. A billion notes played in no particular order. This then is my toot. Whether I truly know anything is mostly beside the point, which is to throw out my notions, thoughts, and predilections. Some things hold my interest more than others, and since my job requires no real thought on my part, my brain tends to go off on it's own; leading to these profundities. So why write anything at all?

 I'm interested in the base and the profound; simply, why are we here; what does it all mean; is there any real point to it; is it planned or happenstance; do we wait for some glorious or horrible afterlife, or do we make the most or least of our time because there's nothing beyond it? We, as humans, have the gift of seeing ourselves in outsized manifestations of our importance in the cosmos. We're not merely the byproduct of cosmological forces, over which we have no control; no, we are meaningful characters in God's infinite play; ready to strut and fret in our leading role. It is the scope and force of that actors distinction that gives us such dread. Are we really a leading force or a bit presence adding nothing more than diversity and color ( as if the universe needs more )? Perhaps a more simple way to state it is why are we here? Beyond the obvious; I'm at this location at this time doing the following for the following purpose. What exactly is the reason for life, for being, for existence? Are we part of a grand design? Are we just a cosmological ( I just love that word ) nanosecond; less than a blink in the eyes of the universe? What exactly describes what we're meant to do? What is life? Is it really anything other than a period of time existing on a planet in a galaxy in the universe? Are the answers in philosophy, theology; the works of humanity's great thinkers? Is it more than a way to kill time until the sun dies taking the Earth and all it's history with it?

Does there have to be something at the end? If so; why? Why can't it just end, or more specifically play out as all other heavenly bodies do when their energy is exhausted? Is that so terrible? Why do we seem so fearful of being nothing more than a small part of a much greater whole?

Those are the questions I intend to explore. I might also go on a periodic tangent as concerns politics and baseball and the pungent miasma that washes upon my shores.