Navel gathering this morning, coffee on the side, sans everything bagel. Searching for existentialism within a finite construct; aka, life. To wit: What, if anything, does a being’s sum of life constitute or contribute?
I use the word ‘being’ so to not limiting this discussion to plain old humanity. (“Consider the birds.” IYKYK). Also, ignoring the trite ‘why are we here’ question. Just beyond the why lies the ‘what’ (has an individual) provided to the compendium of all existence? Re: title.
If entropy, as defined scientifically, returns a value of ‘not zero’ an entity should be ‘> zero’ – at least until T=♾️ (or we’re deader that a parrot with five-thousand volts through it: an ex-entity). Please excuse my Monty Python references, but those members are/were educated. Granting my math sucks, somewhere, there is a remainder or reminder of one’s’ existence.
So, what have you left behind? Does it matter? If it does, on what scale? Our personal overrating of net worth doesn’t – shouldn’t – count. Have you procreated? So have dung beetles. Ghost writer for the Bible? Even the Vatican’s catacomb gnomes have lost that information. Some deity created the solar system? Big whoop. My second cousin’s next-door neighbor’s dog made a galaxy. Then tore it apart into interstellar fluff.
What of it? And are ‘we’ supposed to justify or at least quantify our short tenure of ‘life’? Arbitrary measures are simply that – arbitrary. By money? Nah, that other bloke has religion. By an inside track to God? Nah, there’s a happy family over there.
Rants Unto the Ether 