“Inactivist” Grocery-Getting During “Plandemic 2020”

I just received a notification on my phone saying that Dana has finished assembling my shopping list and is preparing it for delivery. This is the first time I’ve ever tucked it back, straightened my tiara, and phone-ordered a pampering service for myself. I personally have no problem with this particular one, though, as I have not once in my life looked forward to going to the grocery store.

This works out great for me for a few other reasons as well. I don’t make shopping lists and don’t need to because I typically get the same boring items anyway.  In the rare occasion that I have the idea to add something new to my cart, I think of that item while I am in the middle of some other task, and by the time I get to the store I always forget and end up making do with what I’m used to. Cereal, mostly. Single dude life FTW. In this case I can add the item to my cart in the moment and order once I’m ready. Brilliant.

There is also the feeling that while I am in the grocery store, it is more important for me to get the hell out of there than it is for me to stand in the middle of an isle spending even a second thinking about what else I might want in addition to those few items that I absolutely need. It is like when I was in college, it was more important that I got my degree and left that four-year extension of high school than to hang around scoping campus for extracurricular fun. It’s a waste of time.

Food is a waste of time. The ritual of cooking and having a meal means nothing to me. If I placed any value on that at all, then I wouldn’t live alone, a thousand miles from my mother’s kitchen. Or, I’d be looking for a wife. OR, I’d become a culinary artist of some sort myself. But I’m not. Just give me the nutrition and substance I need in a bottle and my semi-weekly pan-seared filet-mignon, so I can quickly ingest it and get on with more important things such as writing this article about how I don’t consider shopping for food to be one of those important things. How meta.

So, I don’t mind this grocery delivery service. However, another reason I am using this service, as well as why I am getting two cases of Soylent delivered to my door semi-monthly, is because in the midst of this “plandemic” as it should be called, I cannot enter the store without wearing a mask covering my nose and mouth. I won’t give my full array of reasons for refusing to wear a mask here, but just know that it is almost as absurd as why people bring their own bags to the grocery store. It’s something like “if everyone did it, then we could make a difference.” I’m not opposed to that way of thinking, by the way.

But, whereas it would take literally everyone’s using their own grocery bags to actually halt production of disposable bags (which is the point, right?), the non-compliance of the mask-wearing law in the elitist butt-sucking state of Pennsylvania could make a genuine difference on the local level, inspire other localities to do the same, and catch on like a virus to reverse the very fear-virus that serves as the basis for this pre-communist malarkey that is keeping you from blacking out with your buddies this weekend.

To be clear, this isn’t activism. I loathe activism. Simply refusing to follow stupid rules — such as wearing a mask to prevent the spreading of a virus for which there is no evidence whatsoever of its being even as deadly as a typical seasonal flu strain — isn’t activism. Perhaps we could call it “inactivism”. Whereas activism, virtually by definition, involves adopting a shallow political belief on the basis of emotions and “raising awareness” of that unquestioned belief by whatever means necessary (often childish tantrums and belligerent violence), inactivism simply says “I don’t see any reason for this, so I am not going to change my behavior because of it.” No harm done, just peaceful civil disobedience for the greater good of individual liberty.

What’s more, inactivism has sophisticated philosophical origins unlike its tyrannical opposition. It’s real. It’s chill. It’s principle-based. It’s Kantian, even. It has pure intention behind it. It says “Don’t fix something that isn’t broken.” That unbroken thing being individual expression in society as it is, e.g. sharing a smile with the cute barista across the counter, even if there is a useless piece of plexiglass hanging from the ceiling between the two of you that someone can easily rub their “contaminated” mask on if they wish to show that none of this is in the name of safety.

I mentioned that inactivism is Kantian. In the unlikely case that your ears perked up, I’ll explain.

In Kant’s Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals his “universal law”, if I remember it correctly, states “Act only in accordance to that maxim which you can will as a universal law.” What this means in short (and in a very watered-down way) is to act not to produce a consequence, but only on the principle of good-for-good’s-sake and to accept the consequences that follow. Like a man. This forms the basis of inactivism because an inactivist uses his moral, unconditional intuition and doesn’t blindly follow behavior-altering rules set by anonymous “experts” who would lose their jobs if they didn’t manipulate data in order to conform it to a greater political agenda under which their entire institution is funded and operates. Activism, on the other hand, does exactly that, and more, by use of the appeal to pity fallacy, preying on the emotionally and intellectually meek to create a herd of castrated sheep that will blindly follow their agenda. This is a consequentialist endeavor — it is action to produce a particular, unquestioned consequence. In other words, the end justifies the means regardless of how malicious the means are and how meaningless the end is, such as in children getting banged just so a shitty Hollywood film, about how one chick’s beating up ten guys is sexy, can be produced.

Funnily enough, activism, consequentialism, communism, atheism, scientism, libtardism, Hollywoodism, feminism, etc. all go hand-in-hand without knowing it. They don’t know it because if logical consistency of views mattered to them at all, then they wouldn’t believe what they believe to begin with. They are all essentially relativist, anthropocentric sub-systems which ironically hold the human intellect as their God — and that explains in part why they reject God. The problem with this is that we humans by definition are NOT actually God. Did you know that?

No, we’re just dumb, actually.

If you’d like to be slightly less dumb than the average human, however, then be an individualist-inactivist. It is the only kind of “-ist” worth being because it is the only kind that means by definition “against ideology” while all other “-isms” are ideologies that overtly suppress the value of individual critical thought. Let me tell you, those ideologies, man… they’re like super ghey. Critical thinking is totally counter-culture and badass!

Anyway, my groceries just arrived on the front porch where I am writing this. The delivery operation takes two people, and apparently that is one too many just as the tale about two celibate and sexually frustrated monks fetching a pale of water goes — that it takes them twice as long because they always stop and take a jerk break on the journey or whatever.

But yeah, my entire order was wrong. That’s my luck being my first time using this service. I had ordered the usual: sandwich stuff, pasta stuff, apples, bananas, eggs, cereal, STEAK, and a few little things like butter and soy sauce which I had just run out of.  Instead, they showed up with four bags full of vegetables.

Vegetables! Useless!

Really, vegetables? What the fuck?

Luckily they hadn’t picked my order wrong. My stuff was still in the car, so it was a quick and easy fix as it would have been for the monks who have only water to fetch at the well. For my troubles I was awarded $35 off my next order. It’s one of those things that’s better off happening to me than to someone else, I suppose, since I don’t get angry. I don’t get angry because I get it. It’s a plandemic. People are confused. They’re just adapting to their new system just as I am to mine of not having to go to the grocery store. Life is hard.