If I've got this right, things work like this (though I admit, I'm no economist):

We live in a universe that is almost entirely empty space. The emphasis here goes to, "Almost." The universe is an eternity of nothing, punctuated by a very (relatively speaking) small, yet still infinite number of somethings.

That's the macro end of everything. On the other end, things work like this:

Inside everything, way, way down, there are molecules. Air, water, mescaline, brown shag carpet, everything. Molecules attach to each other (one way or another) and make (capital S) Stuff.

Creepy? Yeah! Then even deeper than that, way way way down, there are atoms that make molecules. Now, these atoms have little electrons and gizmracks and other words that don't really mean anything. All these little words are charged one way or another, and they buzz around. What do they buzz around? Well, it's strange, but they buzz around a lot of nothing. The majority of space in atoms is empty.

SO! We're made of mostly nothing (except some buzzing somethings and smaller somethings that are surrounded by nothing), living on a something in a sea of almost entirely nothing.

I guess that's why I find it funny when people say:

"There has to be a reason for all of *This*!"

This what? There isn't much of this. Maybe the this that is was an accident.

So, the planets of our solar system revolve around the sun in a similar pattern to electrons around the protons and neutrons of an atom. Some day, and some day soon, we're going to really *need* to face the fact that this solar system is an atom in a candy bar that's been on the shelf for WAY too long.

Nate