Kyra Offline

He who has already lost has much to gain. We know the hallmarks of one labeled a loser: tube socks, a poorly planned haircut, and perhaps a hint of grunge. To be clear, there are very few verified “winners” in society, and those who envy them may very well balk at the ladder of repugnant deeds required to rise above the plebeians. The year is 2025. Let us end the charade that we are billionaires in waiting. We, the 99%, are the losers of this society, and cannot afford to allow anyone to convince us otherwise.

Cinema tells us that the loser is a familiar archetype. They are the everyman. The loser is our protagonist whose earnest attempts to pursue their desires despite all odds necessitates our loyalty, so that we may also justify our own dreams. In this sense, the loser is the foil to our billionaire, society’s chosen winner. Unlike the billionaire, the loser’s fulfillment comes from being chosen, whereas the winner’s fulfillment relies on the capacity to choose for others. The winner tells the story, the adage goes. Danny, our beloved winner of the dance competition in Midsommar, chooses the fate of her ex-love. Let the subsequent bear burning begin! After all, exacting one’s will on a world that once made us feel inadequate is a sadistic fantasy we have all entertained once the initial scorn has fizzled out.

As any experienced dominatrix will tell you, choosing the fate of others endlessly can grow exhausting. Boredom and agitation set in as you are consumed by your own reflection. Perhaps, this is why God gave man free will, to release himself of such monotonous duties. Despite this exhaustion, the primacy of ego in the winner circle dictates that there is no room for fulfillment through others. The cult of social Darwinism suggests that the winner’s superior faculties enabled them to reign supreme in the Antediluvian world. The risen apex predator cannot relinquish their throne now.

What sets the loser apart from the winner is not merely their status in society. Rather, it is the tautological origin of their dream, and the virtue derived from the honesty of their pursuit. The Italian ‘virtu’ coined by the infamous Machiavelli, muddles our contemporary conception of Judeo-Christian morals, or virtue. Rather, Machiavelli’s ‘virtu’ is synonymous with ‘power’, exerted over others as well as oneself. When examined through the lens of the loser, self-discipline emerges as the higher form. The loser’s destiny is one that is rarely considered beyond the credits. A satisfying tale should conclude with self-actualization for our protagonist that relies on the achievement of acceptance or communal harmony. There may be the acquisition of some greater status, but there can never be status without virtue. Those who pursue status alone are often framed as villainous and ill-fated, as this pursuit is a symptom of a greater moral deficiency. This is not a problem for Machiavelli, who claims politics and morals are mutually exclusive. However, one’s goodness, or aptitude, as it pertains to politics becomes dubious when humanity is de-centered. If only Machiavelli could witness the modern American state: an oligarchy of the highest order, comprised of increasingly scarce resources, and abysmal morale. Surely, he would approve. Power for power’s sake is a seed that can only beget rotten fruit.

In Machiavelli’s book, The Prince, it is better to be feared than loved. God says it is better to be loved. Rather than demanding mankind’s submission, God asks that humans willingly choose Him. Machiavelli would undoubtedly point out the great irony of One, in the possession of omni-virtu, requesting the submission of others rather than taking simply it, as is his universal right. But the Lord, claims to be a different kind of prince, a prince of peace who might argue that in sacrificing a bit of control, even greater satisfaction is gained from the knowledge that mankind’s acceptance is honest. If the only loyalty is gained through fear, how can one know where the allegiance of their allies truly lies? Again, the charade of virtu is exhausting, even for the Christian God. The exertion of power beyond its natural limits yields the erasure of self. Where does your will end and others begin? The Egyptian god of nothingness, Apophis, once consumed the entirety of the Earth in his primordial soup. When the great flood receded and the differentiation of land and sea was birthed, only then could life begin.

So what is the humble loser to do? The winners, despite their fatigue, remain adamant in their miserable endeavor to consume us all. And we, in our recognition of our present circumstance, can either remain transfixed on the fantasy of winning or look inward and exert our virtu where it matters most: ourselves. God focuses on his role as Creator rather than managing mankind’s affairs and in doing so, sharpens His knife against his adversary. When he does engage with humans, He does so not by overstepping, but rather developing a relationship, or social contract with his followers. Similarly, the loser’s journey culminates in the successful acquisition of social harmony through one’s own self fortitude. The losers must embrace the tools available to cultivate the very plot of land upon which they stand. Doing so is no easy feat, as our ancestors will tell us. To create, humans must enter into contract with the Earth herself. Contrary to the zero-sum narrative of the European conquerors, one must toil each season and measure the nuances of the wind in a dance of give and take. When our efforts bear fruit, the loser can trade with others, taking their rightful place as a champion of the social contract. Through the enrichment of one’s own soil, a new figure is engendered by the sacrifice of our dear ego. If one can withstand the pain of ego death, that nutrient rich blood can fertilize she who blooms in the rain: the rockstar.

The rockstar is the self-possessed other. In claiming their queerness, they are the self-actualized loser. More potent than the humble farmer who merely domesticates the Earth’s gifts and gives them to those deemed worthy, the rockstar takes on the Aristotelian title of our creator: mover. They are not the first, but similar to the One who catalyzed the beginning, they are those who use their agency to highlight the agency of others — who have become masters of self such that they remind those who remain dormant in claiming what is rightfully theirs that they do, indeed, have choices. It is easy to forget in a society obsessed with possessions, that we, indeed, possess ourselves: our bodies, our time, and our consumption habits. These rockstars are our activists, our artists, our whistleblowers, and those who society claims have gone mad. The rockstar is a master of generativity by claiming their tools and harnessing the power of the social contract to create necessary movement. If change is a resounding ripple in the ocean, the rockstar is the moon, exacting her influence through a dance of push and pull. The water, too, must choose to dance. By contrast, the billionaire is merely a child splashing in a kiddie pool.

While the joy of dissociation is not lost on me, my hope for all of us losers is that we snap out of our delusions of grandeur and tap into our dreams. One way to begin is by investigating the origins of our desires: was this desire implanted in me by the pacifying blue light we so adore, or did it bubble up from the Cain pit after I laid my ego to rest? Take your time to decide. Only we know the color and shapes of our dreams, so providing some standard of acceptability proves difficult. I fear the only example I can leave you with is a quote from my favorite loser:

“Her name is Noelle; I have a dream about her.”