Just why are we here?

Sometimes, when I am musing, I become convinced of the absurdity of life. What is the point? When I was younger, the question was always "Why are we here?" the answer, generally, was "to help others." Sounds nice, doesn't it?

If we are here to help others, why are they here? To provide us with a reason to be here? To be the victims of life's unfairness?

Then there's the whole question of "here"... If you look at the graphic in "I think I'm lost" you can see our planet sits about half of the way out on one arm of the spiral galaxy we call "the Milky Way" and that galaxy is one of billions in the universe. So my question would be, "Why this planet in this particular galaxy in this particular part of the vast (and seemingly endless) universe?"

I mean, that's what I think about when someone asks that old question about the reason for our existence.

And then there's all these other things that make no sense to me. For instance, I play golf. There is no real point to golf. Hit the ball, find the ball, hit the ball again. It's just an excuse to get out of the house.

Games of any kind amuse me. Not playing them but contemplating them. Card games, dice games, board games, mind games...

I like to play a computer version of Monopoly. It is a microcosm of life. Randomness intertwined with planning. The goals are similar to life:

Amass a fortune.
Acquire property.
Keep out of jail.
Crush your opponent(s).

Using guile and sneakiness and luck, you can outfox your opponents and wipe them off the board, taking over their property in the process.

Easy to do... if the dice fall your way.

And aren't these the basics of life?