The commercial machine aims to sell packages, expensive packages whose majority contents you likely by far don’t need. I’ve spoken of this before here and there. And still I continue to witness these transactions at every crevice of my travel:
Simple dreams combined into one complex, meals whose nutritional majority yields no health benefit, tours whose logistical majority, once digested, will not produce remarkable experiences perceived by your mind, trips to the exotic that short of glamour will little contribute to your philosophical journey, academic programs composed of mostly the non-essentials and the canthurts, gadgets whose majority features will not improve your life, comforts that not only you might not care for but that render you more fragile, explanations, demystifications where your mind would prefer to revel in mystery, supplements whose chemical majority renders hardly any increased benefit, if doesn’t altogether compromise, insurance whose amortized premium don’t justify the amortized risk, supervised learning when unsupervised will do just as well, more sugar than vitamins, large portions when the little already satiates the palate.
Be mindful of the packages. Be mindful of the simple, independent components that you really care for. Seek to acquire these by independent, far cheaper means. The packages carry an exorbitant markup. Refuse to pay for them. Refuse the remainder, the remainder of little marginal improvement to your perceived existence. Refuse the packages.
Questions, comments? Connect.