(my apologies if this one isnt good; my mind was just lost today)
Why do people want to be famous *so* badly?
Interacting and cooperating with others is good, so is being appreciated by them; it's *infinitely* more efficient to work together to solve problems rather than being all by yourself, and it gets even better when everyone's on the same page and treats each other with respect. It's how living objects managed to arise from whatever hole on the ground they crawled out from and became more than just beings that existed in this wet marble of boredom and misery. But like most things in life, it's only good in moderation; there's a point where it's all too much and it ends up being bad for you. Your finite brain (or whatever serves as one) can only remember so many complex interconnected relationships before it gives out and you forget some things. You can also only spend so much time on befriending others; all socializing and no work has all sorts of problems. Then there's the biggest problem of all: being renowned throughout all the world isn't one of the things you *really* need to sustain your existence.
Fame isn't food. It isn't water. It isn't shelter, nor air to breathe. It can help get you some of those things, sure, but is it not those things themselves. You *could* just decide to give up all work once you're this big famous person and live on donations and support from your loving fans for the rest of your days, but repeat the same gag long enough and people will start to hate you, even if you've got so much going for you. Just ask Needle. Beyond a certain point, being recognized by more and more people just stops being useful. If anything, it might end up being the opposite; people already hate on random nobodies with nothing to their names for no particular reason, and having a name known globally will just paint a giant target on your back. Make one mistake, one slight infraction, and your life will be in tatters. Even the most surface-level glance at everything that goes on among the rich and famous shows that it's just not worth it, that the drawbacks of popularity *far* outweighs its benefits, and that it's something to steer *very* much clear of.
And yet, people still seek it. Most people dream and yearn for the validation and appreciation of all those around them, even though it's so clearly and blatantly a trap. They'll spend years and years, a considerable portion of their lives, participating in a Battle for Dream Island or some other terrible task because it thinks it'll get them closer to stardom. They'll be willing to sacrifice their morals, or betray their allies, or humiliate themselves in front of the world if they think it has even a *remote* chance of netting them glory. They'll keep chasing that goal as far as their little legs can take them, running around in circles over and over again until it ends up driving them mad, or gets them crushed by the inconsiderate hand of reality. What gives?
Loser wants to know that more than anyone. He thinks.
He's the poster child of everything good and bad about the pursuit of popularity. One day, random chance decided to give him just a taste of fame and fortune, and ever since then he's always wanted *more*. More people celebrating him. More cheering his name. More that worshiped him like a deity. He spent all his time and effort into sowing that desire and reaping its rewards. Anyone that's anybody knew him, and also adored him with all their heart and soul. Even the most remote and desolate corners of the Earth had positive things to say about the beige cube. His appearance always brought about a tide of merciless chanting, cheering, and celebration of his presence. He's *the* Loser. The most famous... *anything*, in the universe.
Then he got all that taken from him. Twice.
Every step and breath he took earned him nothing but yet more praise. At some point, it started to cloud his judgment; he thought he could do pretty much anything, and just... get away with it. Looking back at it, there were certainly some instances where he should've ended up getting reprimanded; what he did to Needle? That's just... *wrong*. But nobody cared. They never cared. He could say and do whatever he wanted, and they'd accept it. He could commit every crime there is, and that's just legal now. Not only was he the most famous, he was the most powerful.
