That life as such is not worth living, and that humanity (and, by extension, all life) is best perceived not as a transcendent nor a particularly meaningful cosmic enterprise, but rather as a monstrous serpent that devours only itself. The burning wheel of samsara catapults us forever onward into oblivion, with no faithful steward tending the light at the end of the tunnel, and with no redemption in sight.
That, in the final analysis, suffering is the true name of this despicable game, and the few precious moments of beauty and mutual solidarity that we are afforded in this life are but brief respites from the interminable nightmare of an existence carved out of the suffering of untold billions of biological progenitors, all of them wallowing in the same cesspit of unfathomable torment punctuated by brief intervals of sustaining pleasure lest they lose their will to survive, let alone the desire to reproduce more of their wretched kind.
That we are "cursed, cursed again and like we have been continually, and we'll wind up dead this way, knowing very little and getting that little fragment wrong too.”