"I don't want to be remembered," says Yuri Orlov, played by Nicholas Cage in the movie Lord of War.  A movie I stumbled upon recently, Lord of War tells the story of real life international (and illegal) arms trader Yuri Orlov (who went by a range of aliases) and the immense web of armament exchange he built around the planet.  It's a cold tale, really, the story of a person who profited from warfare, any war, regardless of its motive or place on the political spectrum.  Money is all.
     If money is all, Orlov was entirely right in his sentiments.  Once he's gone, his money is, too.  His wealth will go to someone else.  Why should anyone remember him?  Why should Orlov want anyone to remember him?
     It's a heartless view of reality.  Yet, broadly speaking, one day, none of us will be remembered.  One day, when the earth draws to its close and whatever is still on it fades away into the darkness, no one will be there to remember anything.  Everything will be gone, forever.
     And there will be no one to judge, either.  Whether or Orlov's occupation was morally right will not matter:  who will decide?
     That's why, some say, we need a God.  Perhaps.  But it seems we need a God even more to ensure that, in an impersonal and empty universe, morality exists, that ensure that life and emotion and imagination have meaning.
     We fool ourselves if we suppose that, in ourselves, we know we have such things.  How do we, accidental as the next moment, really know?