We call this, "Feed your winners; starve your losers".
When your starving for something... a sense of history, dedication, a phenomenal experience you go to The Palm.
One of two things will happen: you'll start receiving a quick peck on the cheek from your starving fourteen-year-old son or your grocery bill will be cut in half.
The reason you're shoplifting is not because you are a) oh gawd, just really, really ditzy and forgetful, b) a student, or c) too poor to clothe your starving Kosovan family.
Play something like Lucas Pope's Papers, Please and, while there's very clearly a game system at play, the "ethical implications" of the system, such as who to let through the border and how to feed your starving family, are arguably the whole reason to experience the game.
One might think that the French wouldn't permit such unsavory characters to commandeer the neighborhood, but if you've got the cash, you can sign the deed even though the money was obtained by plundering your starving and disease-ridden citizenry.
But a few hours later, your starving!
Partly, that's because you've set yourself at war with your own biology: starve your body, and your body is likely to react as though it's being starved, hanging on tight to the next lot of surplus calories it's offered.
You go to the gym; discipline your body; starve yourself; run your feet into the ground, so "you can dance, for inspiration".
"When you come back home, you'll see your family, your children, your sister and your wife starving.
