Greetings From the Department of Worm Meat

Dear Dingo:

I was visiting Washington DC and noticed how incredibly seriously the humanoids take themselves. Everyone rushing off to everything else, because they are so very busy, so very important and so very well dressed to impress. Why are they racing to the grave?

Answer: 

Peacocking, status seeking and basically trying to avoid thinking about the unpleasant fact  that with 7.8 billion people on earth, most everyone is a forgettable nothingburger. Destined to eventually become worm meat like any ordinary pauper, plant or piggy.

Here's a test: list from memory how many dead people you can actually recall, let alone name their accomplishments. At most this will be around 100.

Divide 100 by 7.8 billion other humans--and that is the probability that anyone will remember how important you were. Except maybe the red worm feasting on your noggin. 

So rest assured--to the worm, you will be very important :)