Society entails decoration. People, events, and all the details in between are ornamentations well beyond the necessity of bare reality. This is the central characteristic of the culture that manifests when hoards of men congregate. The basic thing elaborates and elaborates until it loses its form and the decorated surface becomes more important than the object itself. While in reality a man may only have, say, a handful of genuine emotions, society has instilled in him ten more so that he may be able to join everyone else in the complicated affairs of the day. Without these inessential and imaginary emotions the man would be a relative bore to the rest of the crowd. He would appear dull and lifeless to them; as if defective, awkwardly introverted, and so certainly a candidate for being ostracised from the pack. Such a hapless fellow would find himself in a precarious situation, with many of his intentions and ambitions either stalled or thwarted because his personality is rendered all too bland for the appreciation of his peers. He must then play the role, partake in the communal punch, and all the while try not to lose himself along the merry ride of pretending to be something he and no one else really is.