The tail is the point of the peacock. Meaning lies in embodiments of wasteful abundance.
Even if you have to settle for mediocrity along other vectors to enable it.
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I’m awful at dance because the point of dance is to waste motion beautifully. The point of martial arts is to never waste motion and I got a black belt before I ever took a dance class :/
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Then at some point, a Wise Peacock realizes the nature of its tail, has an existential crisis, and tears-down its own sense of meaning. Ironically, it has now out-Peacocked the other Peacocks by becoming a bona fide philosopher.
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