To be a winner.

I like winning. I like winning at races and games, but mostly, I love winning when my opponents aren't aware there's a competition. I race strangers reading quietly at their table by finishing my page first and flipping to the next with a dramatic flourish. I race people out of the building to my car and pump my fist into the air in victory.

I have no friends.

So I can identify with the pathetic asswipes who race to be the top reviewers on Amazon.

As I explored the murky understory of Amazon's reviewer rankings, however, I came to see the real Web 2.0 as a tangle of hidden agendas...

Hell, all of the Web is a popularity contest. But only a few are aware of it. Some (like me) are aware, but try not to care, occasionally declaring shenanigans when the bullshit gets too deep.

Back when the Internet Movie Database needed program reviews, the webmasters didn't seem to care what comments got posted. Five or six years ago, I used to look for movies and programs that needed reviews and I would make up one. Back then, the first review posted for a movie was the one everybody saw first. For about a year, there were some movies where my "fake" review showed up first.
At first, it was fun. But after seeing them there for a while, I felt regret. I felt like it was a lie and that some poor schlub might waste 90 minutes of his life on my recommendation, and wished I could remove them without getting found out by some unseen authority.

But I never sought fame or recognition from my shenanigans. But these Amazon reviews are different. Their reviews, whether honestly earned or not, dilute the whole process. What is your stamp of approval worth if every book gets one?

The whole nature of competition, of winning, of being at the top leads me to one conclusion:
We are alone and we fear death.