Introduction
From early childhood, we were inspired by myths and stories about ancient adventurers and hidden treasures, extinct mammoths and dinosaurs, pyramids, and ancient cities, distant stars, and mysterious galaxies. During the first half of our lives, we believed that our parents were hiding many answers from us and that one day, when we grew up, all our questions would be answered. Time passed by, we grew up and became more experienced and more knowledgeable in many aspects of our lives.
When we hit our (so unwelcomed) forties, we realized that we are on the top of our “life pyramid,” and soon, slowly but steadily, we are going to go down. Gradually, the roles are changing, and the next generations are asking the questions we were asking our parents. When we try to answer the question: “Who are we and for what purpose are we here?” we realize that we have no clue about our source of origin—except the one described in the Old Testament. After communicating with older and presumably wiser generations, we realize that all their wisdom does not go beyond human relationship, politics, and philosophy, and the main question of our appearance on this planet remains unanswered.
In search for answers, we realize that—except for the common desire of happiness for ourselves—the meaning of our lives gradually transforms into the process of providing better life conditions for our direct descendants (our children and grandchildren). The fate of generations after them strangely becomes less of our concern. Happiness is a process of growth, including physical, mental, financial, and other types of growth.
After reaching its apogee, any decline of the former growth leads to an eventual loss of interest in life. Eventual admission of our helplessness before Her Majesty—the “Time”—and awareness of our eventual approach to the final destination gradually leads to our self-reassuring and revengeful defiance to the heavens: “I will pass away, but my descendants will live on.” With this self-calming slogan, millions and millions of people are passing away to nothingness.
If we look at all living things on Earth from a computerized point of view, we can describe ourselves as carriers of different programs. A newborn child is nothing more than a “brand-new memory chip” that observes and collects information from the first days of its life. The recording of this information occurs involuntarily, and we have no control over our craving for information. That is the reason why every parent desires to fill their offspring’s mind with a mentality similar to their own; otherwise, it will be filled with who knows what. Independent of race and nationality, a child born in a different society absorbs the language, traditions, and understanding of that particular environment.
During our lives, by “downloading” this or that “program,” we are forming our personalities. Therefore, our physical and intellectual characteristics can be described in this way: “We are what we eat (food wise), and we are what we absorb (information wise).”
By weighing all the facts we collected through the existence of our civilization, we can explain the appearance of our universe and reconsider our own appearance on this planet. All we need to do is accept the arguments of our ancestors and try to look at the subjects they have described through their own points of view.