Note the almost happy and hungry-looking face in the chair.
Essentially, your human body will change you into a house plant. Your skin will wrap around anything it can get ahold of, and it will fuse you to it.
This has happened a few times that have made it into the news, for example this case from a few months ago. The man's own skin fused him to his chair, so even if he had wanted to get up, he couldn't do so.
Now, you might ask, how did he keep eating? That's easy. He had a roommate, and that man and his girlfriend made meals for the chairbound guy. It never occurred to them call anybody until one day they found their "friend" unconscious in his chair.
After the police cut the fellow out of his chair, which was covered in his own shit and hungry maggots galore, the man died—just like an uprooted houseplant.
And that was life…for that guy. For the roommate and the girlfriend, for some mysterious reason, life continues. What is their contribution? Their purpose? Why, to aid in your lurid entertainment of course.
Most of us don't like to hear such stories for lots of reasons. But chiefly, we don't like to hear that with ALL the glorious distractions to be had from living this glorified garbage-dump existence, some people just don't see any point to even getting up from their chairs any longer.
The moral? Who knows? We're all going to end up there, still and stupid-looking, lying on a slab, with the survivors gloating, warming the air around our icy corpses, and sucking out some hope for themselves (since they are still alive), while looking full-on into the fat or thin flesh of their hopeless future.
In the end, does it matter that you stood for righteous things, or ever opened your mouth to object to perfidious idiocy, or just gave some homeless guy some money (about which you didn't interrogate your brief brush with charity with concerns over how he or she would spend it)?
I don't know. Neither does anyone. We can only operate on the basis of very incomplete knowledge. But I do think there are such things as fashionable stances in this universe. There are lots of ways to go out, sitting in a chair. For example. But don't get the idea or the distracting passion, that one way is better than the other—except from the perspective of the cosmic catwalk.