Life happens. This is not necessarily inevitable, except maybe in our universe, and particularly on this planet at this time. It could be seen as a gift. The plasticity of language and broad scope of interpretation allow you to wrap the world in whatever decorative paper you feel is appropriate for the occasion. Call it good or bad, or some variant of grey tone maybe when your emotional printer is running low on colour ink. Call it whatever you like, life is here, but unfortunately not here to stay. It is a tenuous fragile thing, prone to fade at any moment, likely in less time than the minute of copulation that proceeded its advent. Scarcity drives value. Is it any wonder that capitalism has become the economic vehicle of choice? Time is running out. I'm more scant than Hailey's comet, supernovae, and Kim Kardashian's wardrobe. I will never happen again for quite probably an eternity. Therefore I have decided to tag life with the simple descriptor: Good.
Once existence is established and conveniently categorized, where to from there?