I suppose you could do something, but why?
The sun’s going to deplete its fuel in a couple billion years, become a red giant, and burn up the entire solar system, so what’s the point of yard work, really?
Besides that, (and much sooner), global thermonuclear war is looking pretty likely, so I can’t see why one ought to reorganize their sock drawer, even though it’s kind of a mess.
Plus, I’m going to be dead in a couple of decades, so does it really make sense to spend the limited time I have left taking bags of books and clothes to Goodwill?
Plenty of great art created by human beings has already been created; I’m certainly no Shakespeare, but even I were, I’d already have more than three dozen classic plays in my oeuvre; would another couple really make a difference? Probably not.
It might be noted that there is an endless number of social or political causes that are worth fighting for, but as a pacifist, how can I do so? Much better to remain peaceably ensconced in this here easy chair, right?
Some say that we are put on this earth to fulfill a purpose, but that suggests that there is something or someone who’s in the business of handing out said purposes. That’s a job I’d consider doing, but then how would I know that that was my purpose since I was the one handing them out? Who shaves the barber, you know what I mean?
Passing on one’s wisdom to future generations might be a thing, but given how royally screwed things have gotten during this lifetime, it’s probably better for everyone if I don’t even pretend to have anything of value to impart. Let it end here. Or over there behind the bushes as the case may be.
None of us ever asked to be born but if we had, Dolly Parton would likely have a lot more kids.
Thanks, Mom!
