The Beast of Perfection

We Love Him: Chapter 1: Simplicity’s Hideous Inelegance

Everyone knows the beast of perfection. We grew up with him, were him, or want to be him. From an early age, the animal child runs around screaming and yelling with his parents encouraging his beastly stunts. They enter him in peewee games where he bites, scratches, and slams into things as his parents cheer him on, praising his antics. They pat their animal child’s perfectly chiseled head when he wins trophies and say, “Good boy! Be proud of your accomplishments. You can have anything you want in this world. You deserve the best.” 

He deserves and receives the best. 

Throughout school, he throws the ball, catches the ball, and learns to crush the guy with the ball. Extolled for his ability to stampede, throw objects, or hit people, adults provide him with special privileges. The animal child learns he does not need to work hard at academics because teachers revere his chest pounding and knuckle-dragging across the athletic fields and don’t want to hold him back from success. 

He passes with exceptional grades. 

His viciousness makes him popular amongst the girls who fawn over his arrogance formed from random genetics that elevate him to popularity, the alpha of the herd, and likely to become king of the prom. They throw themselves at him, and he takes them as he pleases, and the girls are proud or at least feign pride, having become another trophy after blowing or fucking him in the bathroom at a party, hoping he will choose one of them. 

He is such a hero and so rewarded for his sacrifices. 

Colleges let the troglodyte attend for free so he can continue playing his chosen sport. He is even allowed to date rape at will because he is gifted with hurling balls, manipulating sticks, running fast, and of course, striking opponents hard. They give him tutors and extra academic support, and before he even graduates, contracts that pay millions are placed in his hands so he can perform his athletic act professionally. The goat boy colliding skulls in peewee games and walloping peers without a care in the world has actualized the dream of sports and fame. 

We love him! 

Popularity holds more importance than knowledge. Opportunities come to those who jump the highest and crush their peers beneath them. The other animals admire the brute and strive to be just like him. The smaller less-genetically gifted creatures snap, sneer, and spit at one another vying for the scraps of life the beast boy tosses away uncaringly. They emulate him, exalt him, and love him. They memorize his stats and jersey number. They do these things as they study hard in school, graduate to work crappy jobs, and struggle through life, often just to subsist in poverty. 

Still, we love him!