The Meaning of Life

That’s right, folks, it’s the blog post you’ve all been waiting for: What is the meaning of life???  Why are we here?  We are born, taught how to eat. We learn to crawl, walk, run, skip, jump, drink, smoke, streak, dress professionally, invest… then we die. I found myself thinking about this the other day (someday I’ll upload all of my voice memos to myself regarding potential blog posts).   Mankind started life in tandem with nature.  This is not another nature loving tree-hugging post.  Just saying, we used to coexist — now we farm.  It’s a fact.  Moving on: at some pivotal point in our development (Mesopotamian domestication) the ancestors of Ancient Babylon (the actual location of the Tower of Babel, for you bible people) decided it was time (or they needed) to stop chasing herds and start domesticating plants and goats.  They settled down and soon came to live in huts, then clay buildings, then hotels and skyscrapers.  Living was the meaning of life.  Eat, sleep, make the babies, grow the food, and die.  Then, someone lived a little too long, or had a little too much time on their hands, and began to ponder life.  Why are we here?