The Golden Calves

It finally happened. A surge of insight that fired and reproduced neurones in the fleshy grey matter of my brain. The moment of clarity arrived when I observed a girl being touched by her peers, each chanting compliments and hiding their envy through thinly veiled praise. I was terrified by this open display of devotion, so much so, I moved a lighting bolt distance away from the girl and kept one eye cast to the sky. There is something about the human condition that makes us all gibber with excitement when we cross paths with the famous. But when there are no starlets to be had, we content ourselves with someone from our own social hierarchy. They are the chosen ones, destined to do great in all aspects of life whether it is love, work or experience. These pinnacles of aspiration can be spotted from a crowd and they bask in the adoration of their followers. These people are the Golden Calves of society, false idols that serve as a reminder that we, the common, will never be accepted unless we conform to the worship that they delight in. 

I am a self proclaimed scavenger of society, I circle around a varied number of social packs picking off the weak and the sick. Always on the periphery of gatherings I watch and bide my time to swoop in and feed off the carcasses. As a true scavenger, I fastened a guise of politeness and interest that allows me to walk from one pack to another. It was such a disguise that led me to the Golden Calves. We view these people with a certain amount of righteous malice that can be mistaken for envy. Since society has claimed that these approval junkies are the epitome of standards, we the outcasts, gnaw on our own livers and wrack our minds to find the answer to this complex riddle. Why them? Why not us outcasts whose ideals and observations are far more grounded than theirs? The days of honour and loyalty are far behind us and the Golden Calves hold no stable moral standard. It changes according to their desires and this fluctuation is what makes them into the diseased predators of our society. Fed with tarnished silver spoons from infancy they are not to be envied but pitied. 

It is extremely hard to let go in situations where we are passed over because a Golden Calf has entered the scene. But taking a step back, would we want their position in the hierarchy? As scavengers we are genetically wired to survive, we are the thinkers, plotters and realists of our world. We are loyal only to our own and favour our intelligence with a startling amount of affection. For every Golden Calf there is one of us, the murky grey area between dark and light, holding our cards close to our chest as we contemplate our next move. Golden Calves are malleable; we prey on their insecurities, we twist their words and all the while pity them for being so. It is too easy to fall into envy for these forerunners of a changing society. They are the first to fall, we know this because we help bring it about. We keep the balance of society, we don't worship or fawn over others, nor do we expect it in return. We are simply the deciders of change and with effortless ease we put our pawns into position.