Why?

It has always been my goal to change the world. Obviously it's childish, but I think in the back of everyone's mind; it's their dream too. As little kids, you want to create your own country on some little island because then everything would happen the way you know is best, and you could change the world. When we get a little older, we know this is beyond unlikely. Next, we think we can become president or prime minister of your country and bring it to a golden age. Once we grow up a little more, you realize two things about becoming the president.
1) I'm never going to be the president.
2) Even if I work hard, become well educated, raise the money, raise the support, and miraculously become the president (even orphans like Obama have done it once in a while), I can't really change the world. The president has to follow the rules the rest of us do. He is kept down by all of the obstructionist congressmen and senators that disagree with him, no matter how genius and revolutionary his strategies may be. In the end, the President has to make enough compromises that he has no more power than the rest of us.
At this point we may go through the stages of grief until we come to acceptance and decide to just be happy. Is it really that simple? Happiness is not an of/off switch. How can I be happy when all I see around me is a world in dismay, a world I can't change?
The first thought that occurred to me was to leave the world. I can't exactly go live on Mars, but, at least I could go somewhere that the world in dismay did not occur to me. I would run to the deep wilderness and there, I would live out the rest of my days. However, it would only be a matter of time until someone found me, or the wilderness I lived in would be destroyed. Then I would be in the exact world I was in before, but without money, a job, an education, or any other way of starting over. I couldn't keep going from forest to forest, because I would be without the means of getting there after the first venture.
Once that idea failed, I searched for a more aggressive approach. My second idea was to start a revolution. But from even the most basic history, I know that that too would be a failed venture. Whether a revolution is started on the basis of radical reform on religious, political, or economic grounds, it serves only to create the same problems by a new hand and under a different name.
It is obvious that I'm not the first person to ever have a crisis of meaning in their life, so I searched for what other people do. They grow up and have kids. There was my third idea. Even if i can't change the political structure of the world, if I have kids, and they have kids, and their kids have kids, I have changed the world. Until the end of time, I will have left an impact in the form of children.
And if that's not enough? I know I'm not smart enough to discover something incredible, I'm not artistically talented enough to produce a classic (of music, art, or film), and I will never be an olympian. I refuse to become another Unabomber. Not only did his strategy harm many possibly innocent people, he was altogether ineffective. No, I couldn't be a terrorist, no matter how pure my intentions. My fourth idea was realistic. I could start a wing in a hospital or a college. I'm a rather successful person, and I believe that if I continue to put in the effort that I currently do, that is completely within my reach. It would leave a significant mark on the world that would hold my name and most likely outlast the human species itself. And yet it does not satisfy the urge that the illusion of presidency once did.
At this point I wondered why I cared at all. Despite the annoyance that a world I did not agree with might pose, it is not altogether impossible that I might be able to live out a normal life and be content. There would be moments of depression and moments of bliss, but I would probably be generally happier than sad. The question no longer became why should I care, but why live? As Camus said, "Should I kill myself, or have a cup of coffee?" Eventually, everyone will die with either choice, so what difference does it make if it's today or in 80 years? Of course I believe suicide is idiotic. It is an utterly selfish act, to leave your friends and family miserable. Beyond that, it is like a cheat of life. It is the coward's answer to challenge. Frankly, I don't want to drink coffee either, but the point still stands. With the line between life and death so thin, I don't want to stand with life for no more reason than suicide being the unacceptable alternative.
I'm not searching for some universal meaning to life. I don't believe in any sort of intervening god, and I don't actually believe that there is any reason humans have any more meaning in their existence than the termites in their wood. However, I am thoroughly convinced that there is a reason to live. Beyond that, I believe there is a simple reason to live. Between the apes who likely do not question their existence and the overly evolved humans that question it all too much, there must have been creatures who questioned their existence on a primal basis. To have answered themselves, the answer too must be primal. And yet as the rationale to refute the simple solution contorted to become as convoluted as it is comprehensive, the question has remained the same, and I believe the answer on the other side of this twisted rationale must be too.
Somewhere near the beginning of this interminably long (and admittedly both self-important and pretentious) rant, I suggested that the simplest solution was just to be happy. However for me, saying this is the destination. To be there without the journey is pointless. The journey is the only way to truly cast out the alternatives. To remove any "what ifs" that fester in your mind. There is no secret to life, and saying that you just want to be happy helps nothing. I can't tell you how to be happy. I can't tell you how that the world is a place of wonder and that if you work as hard as you can you can change the world. If you ask yourself why the hell should I get up today and go to work, I can't tell you that either. But at the very least least, I can promise you that there is an answer.

Prediction

In science, one of the most important tasks is being able to predict what will happen. One of the greatest human desires is to be able to feel like they are in control of their future. To predict what will happen is an intrinsic part of that. We have learned to predict the interactions of subatomic particles and of unimaginably large supernovae. However there is one thing that humans simply cannot take science's word on. Since the beginning of human life, people have been trying to predict. But no matter how smart you are, or how hard you work, it takes your entire life to figure out what will happen after death.

I'm sorry

It is a sad day in the world when even in the country most obsessed with freedom and equality that a man will say to you, "You make a good point. You present it logically, intellectually, and passionately. What you say is incredibly important and affects the entire world, but I'm sorry. You don't have enough money to be right."

Popularity

It has come to pass that in a very large minority, popularity is the most despised of traits. Books like Twilight and artists like Justin Bieber are consistently ridiculed. Of course all pieces in the public eye are open to criticism, but it is amazing why these pieces are made a mockery of. Twilight is a bad book because "vampires are gay." But what about the content? Is the plot full of devilish surprise? Are the themes universally applicable? Is the writing full of witty turns of phrase and rich symbolism? Justin Bieber is a bad singer because "he sounds like a little girl," but does his he have palpably accurate intonation? Does he have stunning range and enthralling tone quality? Nobody cares. And yet the truth is that an opinion made sheerly in protest is as asinine as one made in blind accord.

Passion

A great passion is inspiring. There are people across the world who do nothing but sit on the piano bench or with a violin in their hands. There are people that do love their career so much that they will work into their 90's. Is this not the purest expression of passion; to have a nearly unstoppable compelling feeling of love towards what you do? And yet this love seems selectively dispassionate. If your child spends every hour of his day playing Call of Duty, is he passionate or obsessed? What if he becomes the best player in the world? If the game were soccer or basketball, the answer would be obvious, for this is a passion. Do I have a passion for earning money, or am I obsessed with medicine? Where do you draw the line?

Drummers

Cursed be the drummers, of whom even the most gifted musicians will do little but annoy their listeners.

Blessed be the pianists and those who strum the guitar, of whom the least competent are stared at in wonder.