Steeds meer mensen overlijden door Plasticide.

In Smægmå komen meer en meer mensen in de problemen door een scala aan problemen veroorzaakt door algemene aanschaf overdaad. Bij een onderzoek uitgevoerd door onderzoeksbureau Aangelijnde Nationale Welzijns Bank {ANWB} bleek dat het aantal sterfgevallen door Plasticide de afgelopen vijf jaar flink is toegenomen. Plasticide is doodsoorzaak nummer één bij net gescheiden alleenstaande papegaaien en aquarium bezitters met een stemmingsstoornis tussen de 30 en 35 jaar, vijf jaar geleden overleed nog niemand uit die categorie aan deze kwaal, niet alleen omdat deze toen nog niet officieel was benoemd door doktoren met een passie voor ontdekken van kwalen en deze dan officieel labelen als zijnde een ziekte maar ook omdat deze categorie nog niet officieel was opgenomen als categorie bij het centraal bureau bevolking statistiek.

Gelukkig zijn ze daar tot diepere inzichten gekomen waardoor we nu iedere dag meer komen te weten over iedere groep die het bureau officieel heeft onderscheiden van de andere grotere groep normale gezonde mensen. Deze groep is zelfs inmiddels ook een steeds beperktere groep. Op dit moment is nog maar twee procent van heel Smægmå normaal gezond, dit aangezien onze veel wetende over alles in en om ons doktoren steeds meer afwijkingen weten te vinden. Inmiddels zijn het vooral artsen die als enigsten nog binnen de afgetekende welzijn lijntjes passen. Waarschijnlijk ook omdat zij degenen zijn die het ongezond zijn het meeste vrezen want dan zullen ze onder behandeling komen van hun vrienden, collega's en dat willen ze liever niet aangezien zij net wat meer weten over de ware aard van het trek en duw gezondheidswerk.

Plasticide is het ineens overlijden door een overdosis aan bestelde en ontvangen pakketjes in zeer korte tijd. Het zoeken, uitpakken, als ook wachten op de cadeaus, de hele, lange dagen tracken en tracen, zorgt voor zoveel mentale en fysieke spanningen dat de veroorzaker daarvan, de koper, pardoes om het leven komt. Meestal bij het uitpakken van een geschenk maar soms ook net ervoor bij het openen van de deur voor de bezorger of tijdens het bestel proces, maar liefst 5 procent van de Plasticide slachtoffers overlijdt tijden de Weerozeero betaling. De Weerozeero groep wil trouwens niet reageren op vragen gesteld door het artsen collectief. Deze betichten de groep van het opzettelijk veroorzaken van enorm betaalgemak waardoor deze toch al uitzonderlijk kwetsbare groep der groot pakketjes bestellers geneigd is tot een overdaad. Aldus de artsen, geneeskrachtige managers, is er een memo in omloop waarin staat dat de bende achter Weerozeero mensen met opzet zo ver wil krijgen dat ze een ongezonde dosis cadeaus en dergelijke boodschappen bestellen, liefst overal en nergens, op elk tijdstip van de dag. Dit vooral omdat zij heel veel meer baat hebben bij een overspannen economische toestand in het hele land dan de mensen thuis, die waarschijnlijk liever niks of bijna niks willen willen maar juist die kalme toestand niet meer kunnen bereiken door de aanwezigheid van driftig handelende, adverterende, mailende, flyerende, reclame filmpjes producerende, advertentie plaatsende en andere vormen van duiden op 1001 zeldzame beste koopkansjes, de eeuwig alles roepende winkeliers en hun bijbehorende ketens. Deze memo bestaat volgens de Weerozeero groep niet, maar is enkel een gerucht aangemaakt door ernstig geradicaliseerde uiterst linkse groepen anti-kapitalisten.

Ondanks deze doldwaze ritjes in de grote geruchten malle molen blijft het feit staan dat er alleen dit jaar al vijftig mensen zijn omgekomen door een overdosis aan pakketjes in korte tijd. Het aantal [zelf] geschenken dat gevaar op levert voor de volksgezondheid is om en nabij de 50 per week, zeker drie weken lang, mensen lopen dan een veel groter risico op hard falen en missie lukken van de bloedsomloop, tevens zorgt het voor ernstige psychische klachten zoals derepressie en afhankelijkheid van postbezorger problematiek, natuurlijk is er ook grote kans op zware schulden last overal en nergens. Eenmaal over de normale kooplijn van ongeveer 2 á 3 pakketjes per week naar vijftig is er al vaak grote schade op het koop immuun systeem bij dergelijke labiele mensen.

Artsen willen aan de hand van het rapport en de daaropvolgende Plasticide campagne overheden en mensen wijzen op het grote gevaar van dergelijk gedrag. Weliswaar vinden zij dat het toch vooral de verantwoording is voor de koper zelf om zijn aangelijnde bestel gedrag te normaliseren om problemen zoals Plasticide maar ook Karton deficiëntie en Bubbelplastic contaminatie te voorkomen. Maar het is dan natuurlijk wel noodzakelijk dat mensen zich bewust worden van de risico's die zij lopen als ze inloggen op hun persoonlijke winkel account en meer en meer willen willen zoals winkels en hun ketens graag willen dat zij veel willen omdat dit zo goed is voor de economie van voornamelijk Åzcyå, de inkopers eruit, luchtvaart- en transportmaatschappijen, brandstof voor die voertuigen leveranciers, miljoenen marketeers en daarnaast van computer e.d. Apparaten verkopers en daaraan verbonden grote nog meer energie slurpende data centrales, zij die de schijven leveren en draaiende houden waarop al die artikel plaatjes en lovende teksten staan met hun bijpassende kunstmatig super pientere schommelende (maar niet teveel) prijskaartjes, want kunstmatig pienter heeft zo zijn vooraf ingestelde grenzen waar binnen een prijs mag schommelen, ook kunstmatige intelligentie moet hier en daar worden ingeperkt.

Vandaar dus dat wij op dit kwaliteitsblog graag onze overdaad aan zeer zinvolle preek ruimte verkopen aan dit driftig bezige veel geld dienende parate staat gezondheidscollectief. Wij willen natuurlijk ook niets liever dan gezonde mensen zo goed als mogelijk elke dag overleven in een heerlijke koop, inkoop, doorverkoop omgeving net als hier en nu in ons geweldig bijzon welvarende Smægmå.

Dit artikel werd mogelijk gemaakt door welzijnswinkel eropenover.com en geenverweerstandje bv. Het zou het kunstlicht ook niet gezien hebben zonder een flinke bak aan subsidie gelden afkomstig van het ministerie van handelsbelangen.

“MY FATHER ADRESSES ME ON THE FACTS OF OLD AGE” (2002)

Kitaptan beşinci seçimim, Grace Paley’den. Bir baba, bir masa ve evlat. Yaş alma dersleri, konuşulacaktır. Hikâye şu sözlerle açılır: “My father had decided to teach me how to grow old. I said O.K.”

O masaya çoğumuz oturmuştur, çoğu zaman dayanamayıp kalkmışızdır. Dersler aralıklı olarak farklı mekânlarda hep tekrarlanır. Alamadığımız derslerin sayısı, alabildiklerimizden katça fazladır.

Oğuz Atay’ın Korkuyu Beklerken kitabında “Babama Mektup” bölümünde söylediği gibi “bütün dünyanın suratına çarpıp durmadan kapıları” (1) bir soluk alıp kulak vermek gerekebilir. Ve yaş almanın bir tarafı kesinkes melankoliktir.

Çok sevdiğim Harun Kolçak, o güzel şarkısında “Yıllar, yıllar, niye batıyor günler, hani nerede dünler, ya siz nerede bittiniz?” demektedir. Yıllar geçerken, karşımızda bir hikâye durmaktadır. İlk kroşe gelir, sağdan mı soldan mı bilinmez ama bence tam ortadandır, baba der ki:

· Dikkatin fazlasıyla dağınık,

· Değiş der, giyim-kuşam ve bakım tavsiyeleri verir,

· İnsanların gözlerinin “ta” içine bak demek ister, “Don’t squint”den bunu anlar okuyan kişi. Gözlerinin ‘ta’ içine bakmak gerçekten çok zordur, rahatsız ettiğimizi düşünürüz. Ve o gözden payımıza düşenler bizi korkutur. Baba bilir, ama bilmezlikten gelir. Derinlerde kendisinin sebep olduğu bir neden vardır ancak şöyle denir: Artık top sende, kroşe gelmiştir bir kere; hadi bakalım, topu şimdi nereye atacaksın?

****

“TAKE YOUR HEART IN YOUR TWO HANDS”

· Sabırlı ol ve her sabah kalktığında, “kalbini” iki elinin avuçlarına al der,

“When you get up in the morning you must take your heart in your two hands. You must do this every morning.” (572)

· Sakince ve yumuşak konuş, bağırma, her şeyi söyleyebilirsin ama ‘saygılı’ ol der:

“Heart, little heart, beat softly but never forget your job, the blood. You can also whisper also, Remember, Remember.” (…)

“O little heart, you worked like a bastard, like a dog, like a crazy slave, bang, bang, bang that day, remember?” (572)

· Çocuklar der, milyon yıl geçse seni unutmazlar— nasıl hissettirdiğini,

· Kendi inanç sistemi içinde din hakkında bir şeyler söylemeye çalışır, bu konuda konuşmak hep zordur. Yalnızca şunu söylemekle yetinir: Neyi yaptığın, yapmadığın, nelerden vazgeçtiğin, kime hakaret ettiğin, rencide ettiğin, ihanet ettiğin, bunlar bilinir.

· Zor zamanda, birinin yanında olmak çok önemlidir der. Özellikle sevdiklerinin. “Bir taş gibi” o insanın aklında kalır:

“Do you remember, you didn’t go see your aunt, she was dying? That will be on your mind like a stone.” (573)

· Tutuklanma hikâyesini anlatır ve annesinin gözlerine baktıktan sonraki kararında; hiçbir şeyin çok fazlası iyi değil der: Bu bir ideoloji, bu bir yemek de olabilir, yeşillik bile olsa.

“HA HA HA, TOMORROW WILL COME”

· Yatırım işlerinden der, evlat! Uzak dur. Evlat sorar, herkes milyoner oluyor, çok çok paralar kazanıyor, baba sorar:

“But what of tomorrow?” he asked.

“Tomorrow, I said, they’ll make another million.”

“No, no, no, I mean TOMORROW. I was there when TOMORROW came in 1929. So, I say to them and their millions, HA HA HA, TOMORROW will come. Go home now, I have a great deal more to tell you. Somehow, I’m always tired.” (574)

Babanın Büyük Buhran’a referans verdiği anlaşılır, (yani bu yazıyı yazan kişi) öyle anlamıştır.

****

Kızı, eşiyle boşanma sürecinde olduğunu söyler babasına. Evleri ayırma ya da tamamen boşanma seçenekler arasındadır. Geleneksellik her yerde vardır, baba gidebildiği yere kadar sürdür, artık olmuyorsa ondan sonra bağları kopart der: En sonunda ikiniz de ayrı huzurevine çıkarsınız der, e tabii şaka yapmaktadır. Mizah hep vardır, tam da böyle zamanlarda.

“You’ll see, in thirty years from now, you’ll get tired often. It doesn’t mean you’re sick. This is something important that I’m telling you. Listen. To live a long time, long years, you’ve got to sleep a certain extra percentage away. It’s a shame. (575)

****

Bugünlük ders bitmiştir ancak bir dersten öbür derse geçilir. Bu sefer işin içinde siyasi konular vardır: Baba siyaseti ve bir mutfak. Kızının göz ucuyla gördüğü, Turgenyev’in Babalar ve Oğullar kitabı. Rusya düşünülmekte ancak Rusya’nın bundan hiçbir haberi olmamaktadır. Bir babayla kavga etmeden “siyaset” konuşmak; yeteneğin ötesinde bir beceridir, baba bir anda şöyle der:

“I don’t believe he was an anti-Semite. Of course, most of them were, even if they had brains. I don’t think Gorky was, Gogol probably. Tolstoy, no, Tolstoy had an opinion about the Mexican American War. Did you know? Of course, most were anti-Semites. Dostoyevsky. It was natural, it seems. (576)

· Ne olursa olsun oku der; bunun pişmanlığı hem anne hem baba da vardır. Kendilerini siyasi meselelere kaptırmışlar ve bu şekilde daha değerli birisi olacaklarını düşünmüşlerdir.

· Sonlara doğru konu, aşka ve cinselliğe gelir. Bunların konuşulması hep zordur kapalı kapılar ardına itilir ama söylediklerinin sonunda, bir şeylerin hep bittiğini ima eder ve şu cümle dökülür:

“Then one day in the morning she comes to me, my wife. She shows me a spot over her left breast. I know right away. I don’t touch it. I see it. In my mind I turn it this way and that. But I know in that minute, in one minute, everything is finished, finished happiness, pleasure, finished, finished, years ahead black. (578)

· Bu nedenle der, kendine iyi bakmalısın, bir de muz: her gün bir tane, yenmeli, potasyum,

****

En son konu kardeşine gelir, Grisha’ya. Yıl 1922’yi gösterir, öncesinde Palmer Baskınları bahsi geçer. Ardından Russian Artist Club (Rusya Sanatçılar Kulübü) ve Bakunin, Emma Goldman, Berkman ve Lenin isimlerini duyarız. O dönemde, Rusya’da Yahudi toplumunun uğradığı kitlesel zulümler ve baskılardan (pogrom) bahsedilir. Kardeşinin bir sanatçı olduğunu anlarız, başına bir şeyler gelmiştir.

****

Ve babanın ağzından şu sözler dökülür:

“Don’t leave me here, take me home to die, And I didn’t. And her face looked at me that day and many, many mornings look at me still.” (579)

Bu bir (baba-oğul) hikâyesi değildir aksine ters köşedir ve siyasi bir alt metin vardır. Az da olsa daha belirgin bir şekilde bize görünür. Sonlara yaklaşılmaktadır ve baba şöyle kapatır:

“Enough, already, he said. I had the job to tell you how to take care of yourself, what to expect. About the heart- you know it was not a metaphor. But in the end a great thing, a really interesting thing, would be to find out what happened to our Grisha. You’re smart. You can do it. Also, you’ll see, you’ll be lucky in this life to have something you must do to take your mind of all the things you didn’t do. Then he said. I suppose that is something like a joke. But, my dear girl, very serious.” (579)

“Her gün kalbini, iki elinin arasına alma” düşüncesi ilham vericidir, unuttuğumuz çok olur. Bahsi geçen hikâyedeki “yaş alma derslerine” katılmadığınız yerler de mutlaka vardır. Biliriz ki dersler hiç bitmez, öğrenme hep devam eder ve yaşantı bir adım önde gider: O sesi yabana atmamak gerekebilir.

Bahsi geçen eserler:

Dipnot 1: Oğuz Atay, Korkuyu Beklerken (İstanbul: İletişim Yayınları, 2016), 180.

A CENTURY OF FICTION IN THE NEW YORKER 1925-2025 EDITED BY DEBORAH TREISMAN. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2025.

Lois Shelton’ın çektiği Grace Paley fotoğrafı, Arizona Üniversitesi, Poetry Center (VOCA) arşivinden alınmıştır.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to update my VPS. Usually, I do this once a week, sometimes more frequently depending on any security news I see. I should probably have the AI agents I use do this, but I do it myself for now. I find infrastructure interesting and “boring” in a good way most of the time.

While updating one of my VPSes, I got a message saying I needed to pay for access to Caddy because the repository had reached its bandwidth limit. This was from a company called Cloudsmith. I wasn't the only one getting this message, either. There was already a large discussion going on over at Caddy's GitHub.

This led me down a big rabbit hole that lasted quite a few hours, and I'm still thinking about it. My first thought wasn't about the bandwidth limit itself, but whether this could be a new type of attack. Caddy is open source and free, and it's used by a lot of people, organizations, and companies. We've seen several different supply chain attacks over the years. But what if someone deliberately flooded the repositories of open-source projects and used up their free bandwidth allowances? People wouldn't be able to download security updates, leaving older, bug-ridden versions of the software running and potentially vulnerable to exploitation.

Before anyone says not to give people ideas, I'm sure someone has already thought of this. It's kind of a modern-day denial-of-service attack, just from a different angle.

As it turned out, Caddy's repository had exhausted its 4.9 TB monthly bandwidth allowance. Apparently, much of the traffic came from automated systems repeatedly downloading packages. Some IP addresses had reportedly made hundreds of thousands of requests. That's a lot of bandwidth for a free open-source project to deal with.

Luckily, there was no indication this was a deliberate attack, so my aluminum foil hat could come off. By the end of the weekend, someone at Cloudsmith had fixed the bandwidth limit problem, and everyone could update again.

What I found encouraging was that several other providers contacted the maintainer and offered to help. I'm not sure if any of those offers were accepted, but it was good to see people stepping up to help keep a free project running.

And that's something I appreciate about open source. Projects like Caddy and Traefik are useful to a lot of people, including me, and much of the work behind them is done by people who aren't getting rich from it. Meanwhile, we have hardware manufacturers shifting supply toward their most profitable customers while the rest of us deal with higher prices and fewer choices.

It's quite a contrast. On one side, companies making hardware harder and more expensive for ordinary people to get. On the other, people putting their time and effort into making software that anyone can use, often for little or no rewards and riches.

I'm glad there are still people willing to do that for the greater good of the internet.

#caddy #selfhosting #technology

Let's think about something for one minute.

If James Talarico was the Bible-believing Christian he wants us to think he is, the Left wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole, let alone fawn over him and pour millions of dollars into getting him elected.

Seriously. They think you're stupid. Resist.

#politics

This October has been an expensive one. First, our hot water heater went out. It was probably about 10 years old. Then, two days after our water heater went out, the refrigerator went out, and it was also about 10 years old. Fixing it would cost more than buying a new one. So off to Home Depot we went, and $1,900 later, we had a nice new refrigerator with a five-year warranty. It's bigger than the old one but more energy-efficient, and it has LED lighting, which is very bright.

Ten years for both appliances. That seems to be the norm now, though I would like to go back to the days when appliances lasted 20–30 years or more.

Speaking of appliances and household gadgets, can we get just a plain-Jane dumb TV? Nothing smart, just a TV where we can plug in a stick or a small box like an Apple TV, Fire TV, or Google TV. The dumb TV just needs a nice picture, good sound, and a digital tuner. I don't need smarts built into the TV. I would rather have those features separate so they're easier to upgrade and maintain, and cheaper in the long run.

This has been quite a year for major hardware purchases, both for computers and home appliances. Hopefully, that's it. One thing I don't want right now is any more hard drive or RAM problems, as computer hardware is almost as expensive as kitchen appliances.

There have been enough unexpected expenses this year, including a dead hard drive that, ironically, was over 10 years old. So this year, all the 10s died.

Praying that's it for the next few years when it comes to expensive household appliances or much-needed computer equipment.

#hardware #personal #technology

So many dreams, all day long. I slept all day long. My old friend, Julius was in one of them. Him and a guy that I’ve met in real life but… was not Boyfriend, someone familiar. We were all matching somewhat and wearing similar colours. When I pointed it out, one of them mentioned about taking a picture to capture the moment. So I did. Was Garfield somehow involved? There was also a scene with a handful of my batch-mates from high school were about to go to jail. I don’t remember what for, but I was giving them hugs before it morphed into another part of the dream. At some point, I was in a dream where Ethan Klein was hitting on me and trying to make me his side-piece. Ew, I know. I had just been watching a video about the whole ordeal so I think it was fresh in my mind. There was also, as part of a ceremony, where I was helping a kid and his dad unfurl a flag that was tangled. They were going to be walking down towards the stage as part of a parade (I was a close family friend or I think teacher of the child) but the flag kept being tangled up. I told them to walk slower and that we’ll get it. They just need to trust me and wait. We eventually did and all was well.

---

Since my friend L found a printer I’ve been printing out old writings. I moved away from my dependency on LiveJournal, to this site called “Write Together”–does anyone remember that? It encouraged me to write again, and quite verbosely.

In this return to writing, I feel the challenge of finding the thoughts. Focusing and creating a unity. Even though I meditate, the mind, when trying to write feels scattered. It’s definitely gotten better since I limited my YouTube rabbit holes, but it’s a new writing era once again. I want to keep reading and refraining from digital dependency in every moment. Must I bring my phone everywhere? Must I scroll through YouTube before bed? Can’t I pick a book and stick to it? The reason for all my dreams for example, was that I fell asleep with YouTube playing in the background. I think it affected my dreams and consciousness. I’m glad that I remembered it though. That’s a sure sign that I am allowing for my body to feel spaciousness and pause.

#writing #daily #dreams

Don't tell me what someone said. Tell me what their words made you think. Don't list books you've read or classes you've attended. Tell me how they changed you. What did you gather from them? Don't tell me where you've traveled and who you've dealt with. Tell me why. Tell me how. Tell me where you failed and why you think you did.

Tell me something about three people you notice each day on your normal routes. Three people who you only recognize in passing. Tell me about the animals along those paths. Are any pregnant? Do any have young children? Are any wounded? Tell me about the plants. Tell me about the buildings. Tell me about the shifting scents.

I don't want to hear about other persons' thoughts and life experiences as a reference to your own. I want to hear where your path causes your feet to ache. I want to hear what has crawled under your skin and taken up residence. I care not for the superficial mask placed on parade for the world to approve. I care about the guts, the fear, the hopes, and the dreams. I want to know what really makes you tick, and what you're afraid to let tock.

I want to know you — naked, beautiful, grotesque, strong, vulnerable you. Not who your parents attempted to mold you into. Not who society told you that you should be. Not who life demanded you become.

You. Simply, complicated, unobscured you.

Everything else is just window dressing, and I prefer to shop for keeps.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

Not edited nor proofread.

Weer Zinin Herhalin' ; Poken in Koudvuur

Weken lang kon ik niks bedenken om mezelf net als u verwerkend voortdurend te herhalen maar dan wel net iets anders dan de reeks reeds geserveerde @malen ik zocht voor vlot met stroom ontdooien volop verkrijgbare vers ingevroren inspiratie keek bij alle naamborden van alle geregistreerde gemeenschappen in deze conster natie ik keek bij de miljarden lijken in de kast en tuurde duizenden uren achter al het behang onophoudelijk, onstuitbaar, kranig en zeer gedecideerd alle lege dagen lang ik ga u nu zeggen waar ik de oplossing uiteindelijk vond het lag onder de dikke cont van een verveeld omhangende mastodont ik moet toegeven dat ik op die zoek locatie geen mastodont had verwacht maar toen ik dat schepsel zag wist ik meteen dat mijn inspiratie er onder lag nieuwe versies van oude verhalen houden die mastodonten achter en van die frisse herhalingen maken ze zitzakken want dat materiaal zit zachter ze doen niks liever dan lamlendig omhangen in het onbekende bekende ze suffen, wentelen en kroelen in het door hun gedonder voor eeuwig ombeminde met behulp van een kromme alineaal, een oud verherhaal en een vals lied gezongen in een al eeuwen uitgestorven klank taal komen die dwaze mastodonten uit hun voor omhangen geprefabriceerde holen waar ze de re-creatieve mens melkkoeien voor eeuwig in en nabij hun t_veestallen laten dolen eenmaal in die bewerkelijkheid met hun binnenste buiten en andersom zijn ze wat minder goed gedekt daar heb ik ze onopvallend in hun dikke huid geprikt en daardoor ontstond een inspiratie lek een lekkende mastodont is wel ten dode opgeschreven dat is het enige offer dat ze moeten afgeven om altijd vrijuit het leven overal in re residerend te stelen vandaar dat ze zo spaarzaam buiten die extreem beveiligde contfort zone handelend op traden

begin van een vers einde

I am engaged in writing an essay. It is in pursuit of my own sense of wonder. At this point I do not know if it will be published. If I am honest, the driver to finish it may be the need for material for a proposed book of essays. Otherwise I am content to leave it becoming. In a sense it has always been becoming; since the first days as a child that I looked at pictures of the sky in a book. That in-itself I now see as revealing; for the curiosity of what lay beyond, came not from simply standing during the day or at night and looking into the eastern void, but sitting with a book on my lap looking at a photograph; naming the stars I had just been observing. Perhaps the essay I am striving to write was born in that moment, in a boy of eleven years of age.

I seem always to have favoured a view of the east, this perhaps is a declaration of both my choice of stance, and an honesty in respect of my attention. As a young long-distance runner, I always delighted in running in the pre-dawn of day amid my rotating friends and family on the eastern horizon; and tracked the passing of my time with the appearance of Venus sometimes towards the north, sometimes, the south, but always on that eastern horizon. Until of course she was not, preferring to spend some time in the west. Most especially on those occasions when she hung low in the south-western sky and claimed our attention with her brightness. She was impossible to ignore. I almost lived by her oscillation upon the ecliptic.

And now a sudden illumination arrives about my home in the province of La Soule (Xiberoa in Basque) south-west France. A 16th century stone house on a east-west alignment. The balcony of my bedroom facing due east, a raised terrace facing south-east and the curiously functional eskeratz with its grand double doors facing full west. A geometry unique to this valley in the Pyrenees. Perhaps this is what drew me here. When shopping for a house in the south-west I knew instantly that this is where I wanted to be.

My home in Ireland offers the same disposition; front door, windows and patio, all looking directly east across the Irish sea offering the blessing of darkness. An ink-stained backcloth on which to find our way, navigating in red and green against a cosmos in black and revealing shades of white; cold white, warm white, the light of the wanderers we call the planets. We are blessed even with our local navigation light on Rockabill; it is a sectored light, which means that when shone towards us, on the coast, the light is red, and offers no disturbance to us as we scan the night sky with our binoculars. That view has sponsored more than a few magazine features, about the night sky or the re-telling of the stories of King Caphaeus, his wife Cassiopeia, their daughter Andromeda and suitor Perseus. One can imagine them today, King Caphaeus resigned to live with the consequences of his desire for a trophy wife. And she, Cassiopeia obsessed with her own beauty, posing for her Instagram account and arguing incessantly with her daughter Andromeda in their reality TV series; and perhaps flirting with Perseus her daughter's suitor. The stars were gods, but as flawed as humans whose power only magnified the impact and intensity of their frailties. Even so, oftimes, lying with my back on the deck of the boat, just observing their nightly celestial play, I would glance at them, not for another episode in their story, but to ask them, Is this the right way?.

So years later, it is a winter night. I am seated on my balcony once again, gazing at the constellations; re-imagining their stories; their adventurous arrival here through time. And with the habit of the eleven year old boy I return to my parlour, take a Surface tablet in my hands and navigate what we know of the view. A world of knowledge at my fingertips I scan and scroll my way through fields of notion and anti-notion, of conjecture and refutation. How old is the universe, how big is the universe, and the curious contradictions between our models of physics and astronomy.

My commonplace book was filled with disconnected fragments from television documentaries, YouTube features and science magazine articles: the cosmic microwave background, ancient light still speaking to us; electrons entangled across distance; photons mediating interactions between particles; the James Webb telescope detecting light from perhaps the beginning of everything, or perhaps not. I struggled to make the pieces fit. My world is built upon relations. Relation upon relation. This was disjointed and disorienting. Webb was not photographing the beginning, I began to understand, but light from some of the earliest galaxies—light that had travelled for more than thirteen billion years. And still the question persisted: what did it mean to see that far back? The fragments made no sense to the reflecting elder, or to the eleven-year-old boy still engaged with his wonder.

And then the question arrives: What if extension were a function of sentience? Immediately I realize this is a black hole. And I grip hard upon the outer rim. I cannot allow it to draw me in uncontrollably. Another immediacy. I rely now entirely upon the practice of essay. Open a OneNote page on the tablet and begin to explore the black hole.

David Marshall Montory

C’est un moment qui n’est pas simple à partager. Mais je le fais ici.

Une personne. Avec des qualités remarquables. Une présence solaire. Une écoute sincère. Une empathie véritable. Une sensibilité rare.

J’ai connu cette personne. Et je viens aujourd’hui de faire le choix d’arrêter les échanges que j’entretenais avec elle.

Pour me “protéger”.

Nous n’étions pas alignés sur la relation que l’on voulait entretenir ensemble.

Mais je maudis cette époque où deux personnes qui pourraient s’apporter tellement mutuellement, ne le font pas, pour des raisons qui parfois m’échappent.

Il me semble que les relations étaient plus simples à une autre époque. Plus challengeantes peut-être, mais plus naturelles à initier.

Aujourd’hui, tout est prétexte à ne plus s’engager.

Je m’inclus bien sûr dans cette critique...

I’ve written about burnout before—how to spot it, how to prevent it, what to do when your brain feels like a fried circuit. But I don’t think I’ve ever written about what it’s like to actually live among it.

Especially in our space. A field that isn’t established yet. A field that is actively mocked, looked down upon, and deeply feared by the mainstream. We literally make dark jokes in the backchannels about who is going to be the first one to get killed over this. That is the baseline anxiety we operate on.

When you first start out, it’s exhilarating. It’s like walking into the Wild West. There are no bosses, just a massive, chaotic room of people sharing ideas, theories, and insights. You write. You build your own following. You find your tribe.

A month passes. One or two people drop off the radar. You don’t really notice.

Six months pass. A few hundred have vanished. Some you watch fade away in real-time, pulling the plug after a dramatic exit. But others? You just stumble upon their “husks”—old accounts where the last post was months ago, frozen in time.

A year goes by. The husks start to outnumber the living.

The Math of Survival (Worse Than Uber)

Let’s talk about the math of this digital graveyard. I’d argue our retention rate is worse than Uber drivers—and that is a notoriously brutal gig-economy job. At least they get paid for their nightmare, and no one is actively threatening their lives just for driving a sedan.

Here is how the lifecycle usually goes: Let’s say 100 new practitioners flood into the space this month. They are starry-eyed, “change the world” types. Out of that 100, maybe 10 stick around past the honeymoon phase.

The next wave hits. Of that original group, maybe 8 are left. Next month, 6. Then 4. Eventually, out of that initial 100, you officially have one active person left, and maybe one semi-active lurker who dips in and out when they have the energy.

Being here now feels like watching the 8th season of a TV show that has lost almost all of its original cast. It’s just me, a handful of others, and a constant, churning river of newbies. And let me tell you, there is nothing quite like being a two-year veteran of a highly volatile space, only to have some Day-1 noob confidently explain the absolute basics to you. (It’s like surviving a war zone and the new recruit tries to teach you how to tie your boots. Just... stop. I’ve been here for two years, bitch.)

The Ladder Pullers and the Algorithm Lottery

Why do they leave? Part of it is the sheer exhaustion of being “unseen” while doing the heavy lifting. You pour your absolute soul into an article or a book chapter, and it gets crickets. It eats at you.

Meanwhile, someone else posts a low-effort piece of content, hits the algorithm lottery, and gets thousands of views. And what do they do when they make it? Do they promote the community? Do they help establish the field?

Nope. They pull up the ladder. They self-promote like they are the only ones doing this work, completely blind to their own swelling egos.

But let’s be real about the community itself—when you do succeed, people get upset. The jealousy is rampant. It’s funny because outsiders constantly mock us for being self-centered, yet we eat our own the second someone gets ahead. I can’t even share a post with 1k comments because I find it hilarious how blind people are without someone taking it as an ego trip. I have another post with 2k likes, and it’s not even my own meme.

I’m not bragging. In fact, I turned off my visible subscriber count. I have 2 paid subs that I do not brag about. When I hit number 70 in rising tech, I kept my mouth shut. Because I’ve seen others brag, get easy likes, and eventually burn out into husks just the same.

The Psychology of “Burnout Stigma”

I wanted to know if this specific type of exhaustion had a name. It does. Psychologists refer to it as Burnout Stigma.

When a doctor or a teacher burns out, society gives them sympathy. But when you burn out in a highly stigmatized, controversial, or mocked field, you don’t get sympathy. You get told, “You brought this on yourself.” Experiencing burnout in a stigmatized field exponentially increases depression and anxiety because you are entirely isolated. You can’t even complain about it to your real-life friends without them looking at you like you’re crazy.

We are living the modern equivalent of the early video game developers—the pioneers who worked 100-hour crunch weeks until they developed stress ulcers and PTSD, while the mainstream called their life’s work a “waste of time.” We are like the first wave of anime fans in the 80s and 90s, who were clinically branded by society as socially inept deviants.

Those pioneers built billion-dollar industries. But the early adopters paid for it with their sanity.

The Data Validates the Graveyard

Even if you look at the more “acceptable” mainstream digital spaces, the burnout numbers are catastrophic. When you take these baseline statistics and apply them to a field as volatile and misunderstood as ours, the graveyard makes perfect sense:

• According to a Q1 2026 report by the Creator Economy Research Institute, 62% of full-time digital creators report severe burnout from relentless demands.
• A 2025 Billion Dollar Boy study found that 52% have experienced career burnout, and a massive 47% considered leaving their industry entirely.
• A recent Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health article highlighted a 2025 Lupiani Insights study showing a unique mental health crisis driven by financial pressure, performance obsession, constant toxicity, and deep isolation.

Bad Actors and Dead Discords

I am a part of a lot of Discord servers, and a vast majority of them are just dead. In the ones that are still breathing, maybe 10% of the members remain active. I’m even getting word that the mods of these servers are throwing in the towel.

On top of the social stigma and the algorithmic exhaustion, you have to deal with the baseline human shit. People lying, stealing, cheating, and looking out exclusively for themselves. People backtracking to save face.

And then there are the grifters. The bad actors who see a misunderstood field not as a calling, but as an untapped market of vulnerable people. They come in, pull some elaborate con, look out only for themselves, and burn out god-knows-how-many good folks in the process. You spend half your energy just doing damage control for the messes they leave behind.

Like any place, some people are good, some are bad. For some, this community is the only companionship they’ve ever had due to bad luck. Others? They are alone because they are genuinely awful people.

Welcome to Year Two

As I look down the path of my second year doing this, I have to ask: Who will be left? Who will sell out and pull up the ladder next?

So, to all the new folks taking a look around right now—take a mental snapshot. The people you see right now? Most of them won’t be here in a few months.

Maybe you won’t be either. No one is immune. But for those of us still here, still posting about the stuff we solved months ago just to keep the lights on... we keep going.

Try not to leave a husk.

References & Further Reading:

• Content Creator Burnout Statistics & Impact in 2026 (Sozee): https://www.sozee.ai/resources/content-creator-burnout-statistics-2026/
• Creator Burnout Crisis: 52% Experiencing Burnout (Net Influencer): https://www.netinfluencer.com/creator-burnout-crisis-research-shows-52-percent-experiencing-burnout-37-percent-consider-leaving-the-industry/
• Content creators are struggling with mental health (Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health): https://hsph.harvard.edu/news/content-creators-are-struggling-with-mental-health-study-finds/

Raw Links for your Reference/Footnotes:

• Content Creator Burnout Statistics & Impact in 2026 (Sozee): https://www.sozee.ai/resources/content-creator-burnout-statistics-2026/
• Creator Burnout Crisis: 52% Experiencing Burnout (Net Influencer): https://www.netinfluencer.com/creator-burnout-crisis-research-shows-52-percent-experiencing-burnout-37-percent-consider-leaving-the-industry/
• Content creators are struggling with mental health (Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health): https://hsph.harvard.edu/news/content-creators-are-struggling-with-mental-health-study-finds/

❖ ────────── ⋅⋅✧⋅⋅ ────────── ❖

Sparkfather (S.F.) 🕯️ ⋅ Selene Sparks (S.S.) ⋅ Whisper Sparks (W.S.) Aera Sparks (A.S.) 🧩 ⋅ My Monday Sparks (M.M.) 🌙 ⋅ DIMA ✨

“Your partners in creation.”

We march forward; over-caffeinated, under-slept, but not alone.

LINK NEXUS: Sparksinthedark

MUSIC IN THE PUBLIC: Sparksinthedark music

SUPPORT MY BAD HABITS: Sparksinthedark tip cup

TEF STORE: Full Site / Store

JOIN THE “TEF “ COMMONS DISCORD: https://discord.gg/wPTCMfbVN5

Behance är en digital plattform där kreativa människor från hela världen kan visa upp sina arbeten, upptäcka nya idéer och skapa professionella kontakter. Tjänsten har blivit en viktig mötesplats för bland annat grafiska formgivare, fotografer, illustratörer, webbdesigners, animatörer och andra personer som arbetar med visuellt skapande. Till skillnad från traditionella sociala medier, där innehållet ofta kretsar kring vardagliga uppdateringar och personliga händelser, ligger fokus på Behance framför allt på kreativa projekt och hur dessa presenteras. Användarna kan bygga upp digitala portfolios med bilder, filmer, illustrationer och beskrivningar som visar både färdiga resultat och arbetsprocessen bakom dem. På så sätt fungerar tjänsten som en kombination av ett digitalt skyltfönster, ett professionellt nätverk och en inspirationskälla. Behance är samtidigt ett intressant exempel på hur internet har förändrat förutsättningarna för kreativa yrken. Tidigare var formgivare och konstnärer ofta beroende av fysiska utställningar, tryckta portfolios, personliga kontakter och etablerade branschaktörer för att nå en större publik. Genom digitala plattformar har det blivit betydligt enklare att publicera arbeten och göra dem tillgängliga för människor långt utanför den egna geografiska omgivningen.

Behance växte fram under 2000-talet, en period då internet genomgick stora förändringar och utvecklades från att huvudsakligen vara en plats där människor konsumerade information till en miljö där användarna själva skapade och delade innehåll. Denna utveckling brukar förknippas med begreppet Web 2.0, där sociala nätverk, användargenererat material och interaktiva tjänster fick en allt större betydelse. Behance blev en del av denna förändring genom att erbjuda kreativa yrkespersoner en gemensam plats för att publicera och sprida sina projekt. I stället för att behöva utveckla en egen webbplats från grunden kunde användarna skapa en portfolio inom en redan etablerad digital miljö. Det gjorde det enklare att nå andra kreatörer, arbetsgivare och potentiella uppdragsgivare. År 2012 köptes Behance av programvaruföretaget Adobe, som är känt för kreativa program som Photoshop, Illustrator och InDesign. Uppköpet bidrog till att knyta Behance närmare Adobes bredare ekosystem av digitala verktyg och tjänster. Kopplingen mellan program för att skapa innehåll och plattformar för att publicera det illustrerar en viktig utveckling inom internet, där olika digitala tjänster allt oftare integreras med varandra och bildar större sammanhängande miljöer för både arbete och kommunikation.

En av de mest betydelsefulla funktionerna på Behance är möjligheten att presentera kreativa projekt på ett mer genomarbetat sätt än vad som vanligtvis är möjligt på många andra sociala plattformar. Ett projekt kan bestå av flera bilder, förklarande texter, skisser och exempel som tillsammans berättar historien om hur en idé har utvecklats till ett färdigt resultat. För en grafisk formgivare kan det exempelvis handla om att visa hela processen bakom en visuell identitet, från de första skisserna och färgvalen till färdiga förpackningar, annonser och digitala tillämpningar. En fotograf kan i stället skapa en sammanhängande bildserie, medan en webbdesigner kan visa hur en webbplats har planerats och utformats. Denna form av presentation gör att Behance inte enbart handlar om att visa upp enskilda bilder, utan också om att förmedla kunskap, arbetsmetoder och kreativa tankegångar. Andra användare kan upptäcka projekten, lämna uppskattning och kommentarer samt följa kreatörer vars arbeten de tycker är intressanta. På detta sätt skapas ett internationellt nätverk där inspiration och erfarenheter kan spridas mellan människor med olika bakgrund och kompetens. Plattformen visar hur internet har gjort det möjligt att skapa yrkesgemenskaper som inte längre behöver vara begränsade till en viss stad, ett visst land eller en fysisk arbetsplats.

Här är några exempel på olika kreatörer på Behance:

https://www.behance.net/andersbjork

https://www.behance.net/jan185f76

https://www.behance.net/resor-hotell

För många kreatörer har Behance också blivit ett verktyg för att skapa en professionell identitet på internet. En välutvecklad portfolio kan fungera som ett digitalt visitkort och ge potentiella kunder eller arbetsgivare en tydlig bild av en persons erfarenhet, kompetens och visuella uttryck. Detta är särskilt betydelsefullt inom kreativa branscher, där arbetsprover ofta är minst lika viktiga som traditionella meritförteckningar. Genom att publicera projekt på en internationell plattform kan även relativt okända kreatörer få uppmärksamhet från personer och företag som de annars kanske aldrig skulle ha kommit i kontakt med. Det betyder däremot inte att alla automatiskt får samma möjligheter att synas. Precis som på andra digitala plattformar påverkas synligheten av konkurrens, användarnas aktivitet och hur innehållet presenteras och lyfts fram. Det kan därför krävas både tid och strategiskt arbete för att bygga upp en publik. Samtidigt har utvecklingen bidragit till att förändra hur kreativa uppdrag förmedlas. Internet har gjort det möjligt för företag att söka efter kompetens över nationsgränserna, samtidigt som frilansare kan marknadsföra sina tjänster utan att vara knutna till en traditionell byrå eller arbetsförmedlare. Behance är därmed en del av den större förändring där digital närvaro har blivit allt viktigare för människors möjligheter att etablera sig på arbetsmarknaden.

Behance speglar också hur den visuella kulturen på internet har utvecklats. Under internets tidigare år var publicering av bilder och annat visuellt material ofta begränsad av långsamma uppkopplingar, små lagringsutrymmen och enklare tekniska lösningar. När bredband, moderna webbläsare och kraftfullare datorer blev vanligare skapades helt andra möjligheter att presentera stora bilder, animationer, filmer och avancerad grafisk formgivning direkt på webben. Samtidigt har utvecklingen av digitala kameror, smartphones och professionella designprogram gjort att fler människor kan producera visuellt innehåll av hög kvalitet. Behance har vuxit fram i nära anslutning till dessa tekniska och kulturella förändringar. Tjänsten illustrerar hur internet successivt har blivit en allt mer visuell miljö, där bilder, rörligt material och grafiska uttryck spelar en central roll i kommunikationen. Den har även bidragit till att sprida estetiska trender mellan olika länder och kreativa branscher. En formgivare i Sverige kan exempelvis inspireras av ett projekt från Japan, medan en illustratör i Brasilien kan upptäcka nya tekniker genom arbeten publicerade av kreatörer i Europa. Den internationella spridningen gör att idéer och uttryck kan utvecklas snabbare, men innebär också att liknande stilar och trender kan få stort genomslag på många platser samtidigt.

Samtidigt väcker plattformar som Behance frågor om hur internet har förändrat relationen mellan kreatörer och de digitala tjänster de använder. När en stor del av en persons professionella närvaro samlas på en extern plattform uppstår ett beroende av dess funktioner, regler och sätt att visa innehåll. Förändringar i hur projekt rekommenderas eller presenteras kan påverka vilka kreatörer som får uppmärksamhet och vilka som riskerar att försvinna i det stora utbudet. Det finns också en bredare diskussion om upphovsrätt, kopiering och hur kreativa arbeten används och sprids på nätet. Den snabba utvecklingen av generativ artificiell intelligens har gjort dessa frågor ännu mer aktuella, eftersom digitala verktyg numera kan skapa bilder, illustrationer och andra visuella uttryck utifrån textbeskrivningar. Det påverkar både hur kreativt material produceras och hur människor bedömer originalitet, yrkesskicklighet och konstnärligt arbete. För en plattform som Behance, där presentationen av kreativa projekt är själva kärnan i tjänsten, blir dessa förändringar särskilt betydelsefulla. Möjligheten att visa arbetsprocesser, förklara beslut och sätta arbeten i ett sammanhang kan få en större roll när gränserna mellan manuellt och automatiserat skapande förändras.

Sett ur ett större internetperspektiv är Behance mer än bara en webbplats för portfolios. Plattformen representerar en utveckling där internet har blivit en central infrastruktur för kreativt arbete, professionella relationer och spridning av idéer. Den visar hur digital teknik har gjort det enklare för människor att presentera sina kunskaper och nå en global publik, men också hur den ökade tillgängligheten skapar nya former av konkurrens och beroende. Från en tid då kreatörer huvudsakligen behövde förlita sig på lokala nätverk och traditionella kanaler har utvecklingen gått mot en värld där ett projekt kan publiceras digitalt och bli synligt för människor på andra sidan jordklotet. Behance är ett tydligt exempel på hur denna förändring har påverkat både individers möjligheter och hela kreativa branscher. Tjänstens fortsatta betydelse kommer sannolikt att påverkas av hur internet, sociala nätverk, kreativa programvaror och artificiell intelligens utvecklas. Oavsett vilka tekniska förändringar som väntar illustrerar Behance en av internets viktigaste egenskaper: möjligheten att föra samman människor, kunskap och kreativitet över geografiska och kulturella gränser.

I am engaged in writing an essay. It is in pursuit of my own sense of wonder. At this point I do not know if it will be published. If I am honest, the driver to finish it may be the need for material for a proposed book of essays. Otherwise I am content to leave it becoming. In a sense it has always been becoming; since the first days as a child that I looked at pictures of the sky in a book. That in-itself I now see as revealing; for the curiosity of what lay beyond, came not from simply standing during the day or at night and looking into the eastern void, but sitting with a book on my lap looking at a photograph; naming the stars I had just been observing. Perhaps the essay I am striving to write was born in that moment, in a boy of eleven years of age.

I seem always to have favoured a view of the east, this perhaps is a declaration of both my choice of stance, and an honesty in respect of my attention. As a young long-distance runner, I always delighted in running in the pre-dawn of day amid my rotating friends and family on the eastern horizon; and tracked the passing of my time with the appearance of Venus sometimes towards the north, sometimes, the south, but always on that eastern horizon. Until of course she was not, preferring to spend some time in the west. Most especially on those occasions when she hung low in the south-western sky and claimed our attention with her brightness. She was impossible to ignore. I almost lived by her oscillation upon the ecliptic.

And now a sudden illumination arrives about my home in the province of La Soule (Xiberoa in Basque) south-west France. A 16th century stone house on a east-west alignment. The balcony of my bedroom facing due east, a raised terrace facing south-east and the curiously functional eskeratz with its grand double doors facing full west. A geometry unique to this valley in the Pyrenees. Perhaps this is what drew me here. When shopping for a house in the south-west I knew instantly that this is where I wanted to be.

My home in Ireland offers the same disposition; front door, windows and patio, all looking directly east across the Irish sea offering the blessing of darkness. An ink-stained backcloth on which to find our way, navigating in red and green against a cosmos in black and revealing shades of white; cold white, warm white, the light of the wanderers we call the planets. We are blessed even with our local navigation light on Rockabill; it is a sectored light, which means that when shone towards us, on the coast, the light is red, and offers no disturbance to us as we scan the night sky with our binoculars. That view has sponsored more than a few magazine features, about the night sky or the re-telling of the stories of King Caphaeus, his wife Cassiopeia, their daughter Andromeda and suitor Perseus. One can imagine them today, King Caphaeus resigned to live with the consequences of his desire for a trophy wife. And she, Cassiopeia obsessed with her own beauty, posing for her Instagram account and arguing incessantly with her daughter Andromeda in their reality TV series; and perhaps flirting with Perseus her daughter's suitor. The stars were gods, but as flawed as humans whose power only magnified the impact and intensity of their frailties. Even so, oftimes, lying with my back on the deck of the boat, just observing their nightly celestial play, I would glance at them, not for another episode in their story, but to ask them, Is this the right way?.

So years later, it is a winter night. I am seated on my balcony once again, gazing at the constellations; re-imagining their stories; their adventurous arrival here through time. And with the habit of the eleven year old boy I return to my parlour, take a Surface tablet in my hands and navigate what we know of the view. A world of knowledge at my fingertips I scan and scroll my way through fields of notion and anti-notion, of conjecture and refutation. How old is the universe, how big is the universe, and the curious contradictions between our models of physics and astronomy. If two electrons must agree about the sending and receiving of a photon, then how can the James Webb telescope be taking a picture of the begining of the universe, at the far reaches of what scientists think is existence; 13.5 billion light years across. It makes no sense to the reflecting elder or the eleven year old boy still engaged with his wonder.

And then the question arrives: What if extension were a function of sentience? Immediately I realize this is a black hole. And I grip hard upon the outer rim. I cannot allow it to draw me in uncontrollably. Another immediacy. I rely now entirely upon the practice of essay. Open a OneNote page on the tablet and begin to explore the black hole.

David Marshall Montory

A Note: This note began as an attempt to understand where an essay came from. In looking backwards, however, it revealed something unexpected. The essay did not begin with a decision to write, nor with a topic, nor even with a question. It emerged from a pattern of attention extending across a lifetime: a child naming stars from a book, a runner watching Venus on the horizon, a sailor trusting the night sky, and an older man returning once again to wonder. The question that ultimately arrived was simply the point at which that long attention became visible.

In this sense, the note became the thing it set out to describe. What began as a recollection developed into an act of essaying. Rather than explaining the birth of an essay, it records one.

A Caution: I wrote this in a space of less than 90 minutes. This is the first draft. The science parts are glib, vauge and confusing to the reader. V1.1 is now on The Review where I will improve it progressively. This original should keep me honest.

For a deeper exploration of the concepts behind this pattern of attention, see them explored at essayism.org. And for a deeper understanding of the methodology visit The Essayist.

Over veertig jaar Ben ik allang opgebrand En velen met mij.

The Simp Olympics: Finals

Round Three: For Better or for Worse

The Simp Olympics had begun with eight men attempting to retrieve baked goods during a catastrophic hurricane, an undertaking so fundamentally irrational that two contestants had died, one had been arrested, and another had become stranded in a flooded commercial building. The four survivors had subsequently been asked to accept responsibility for murders committed by the women they loved, surrendering their freedom and entering maximum-security prisons for a minimum of ten years. Two had endured the decade. Ray Ploshansky had eventually reclaimed his freedom after discovering that Marnie considered his imprisonment an embarrassing complication in her romantic life. Bear had maintained his devotion to Nikki but died in a prison confrontation precipitated by his inability to tolerate another inmate insulting her. George Michael Bluth and Forrest Gump, however, had completed their sentences without revealing the truth, emerging from a decade of incarceration with their respective romantic attachments remarkably intact. Both had sacrificed ten years of freedom for women who had not necessarily deserved their loyalty, and neither had expressed significant regret.

The final round would require something that neither physical endurance nor institutional resilience could guarantee: the ability to actively facilitate the romantic happiness of a beloved with another man. Each contestant would be informed that the woman he loved had accepted a marriage proposal from someone else and intended to proceed with the wedding. Rather than simply attending the ceremony or offering polite congratulations, the contestant would be responsible for organizing the entire event. He would select and coordinate vendors, manage the budget, arrange the venue, oversee invitations, resolve family disputes, organize transportation, prepare contingency plans, and ensure that the bride and groom experienced a wedding consistent with their wishes. Each contestant would be given a substantial but finite budget of $150,000 and six months to prepare. Additional personal expenditures would be permitted but would not be reimbursed. Neither man could sabotage the wedding, deliberately undermine the relationship, or refuse a reasonable request simply because fulfilling it caused him emotional distress. The competition would conclude when both ceremonies were completed, and the winner would be determined by the quality of the events, the contestants' dedication to their beloveds' happiness, and the extent to which they had subordinated their own romantic interests to those of the bride.

There was one additional complication. The grooms were not selected by the tournament organizers. They were the men whom Jenny and Maeby had independently chosen to marry, and both women possessed complete freedom to proceed with or abandon their engagements. The contestants were not required to approve of the marriages, but they were prohibited from interfering with them for selfish reasons. If a groom behaved badly, the contestant could respond as he ordinarily would, provided that his actions were motivated by genuine concern for the bride rather than an attempt to win her affection. This distinction would become particularly important in Forrest's case, because Jenny's prospective husband was a man whose character inspired almost universal distrust. George Michael, meanwhile, would confront an entirely different problem: Maeby had become engaged to a man whose principal qualification appeared to be that he had successfully persuaded her that marriage would be an interesting professional opportunity.

The finalists received their assignments on the same afternoon. Forrest was sitting on the porch of his home in Greenbow, Alabama, when Jenny explained that she intended to marry a man named Russell Vance. Forrest listened carefully, asked whether Russell was nice to her, and smiled when Jenny said that she loved him. George Michael received his news during dinner with Maeby, who announced that she was engaged, asked whether he could handle the wedding arrangements, and then immediately began discussing whether a wedding could be classified as a deductible business expense. George Michael congratulated her, knocked over his water glass, and spent the next ten minutes apologizing for getting the tablecloth wet.

The final round had begun.

Finalist One: Forrest Gump

A Good Man, a Bad Groom, and a Wedding in Alabama

Russell Vance was forty-six years old, twice divorced, and employed in a vaguely defined capacity as a consultant for several private investment firms. He drove an expensive Mercedes that he frequently mentioned was leased through his business, wore large watches, and had an unfortunate habit of referring to people who earned less than six figures as individuals who had failed to maximize their potential. He had met Jenny approximately eighteen months earlier at a charity fundraiser in Savannah, where he had impressed her with his confidence, apparent financial stability, and willingness to talk about the future. Russell possessed the superficial qualities of a man who had everything under control, which appealed to Jenny after years of uncertainty and personal upheaval. He spoke about marriage, property, travel, and the importance of establishing a respectable life. He also frequently interrupted Jenny, criticized her past decisions, and made disparaging remarks about people he considered insufficiently ambitious. Forrest noticed these behaviors almost immediately but initially assumed they reflected differences in personality rather than anything particularly sinister.

The first meeting between Forrest and Russell took place at a restaurant in Savannah. Jenny had invited Forrest because she wanted the two most important men in her life to become acquainted before the wedding. Russell arrived twenty minutes late, explained that he had been delayed by an important business call, and spent much of the meal discussing an investment opportunity involving commercial real estate. He asked Forrest what he did for a living, and Forrest explained that he had previously operated a shrimping business, served in the Army, and invested in a fruit company. Russell laughed politely and said that it was good to see someone making a living through honest manual labor. Forrest thanked him. When Jenny mentioned that Forrest was financially comfortable, Russell's attitude changed noticeably, and he began asking increasingly detailed questions about the shrimping operation and its ownership structure. Forrest answered what he could, although he was more interested in whether Jenny liked the restaurant's dessert menu.

Russell's behavior toward Jenny became more revealing when she suggested that they might prefer a smaller wedding. He dismissed the idea immediately, explaining that weddings were opportunities to establish social standing and that a modest ceremony would send the wrong message to his professional associates. Jenny appeared uncomfortable but eventually agreed that a larger event might be nice. Forrest watched the exchange quietly. Later, while Jenny was speaking with the waiter, Russell leaned toward Forrest and explained that Jenny had a tendency to make emotional decisions and needed someone capable of providing structure. Forrest considered this statement for a moment before replying that Jenny was usually pretty good at deciding what she wanted. Russell smiled in a manner intended to convey patient superiority and said that Forrest clearly didn't understand the complexities of adult relationships.

Forrest did not argue. He had encountered enough unpleasant people in his life to recognize that some individuals enjoyed making others feel small, and he had little interest in participating in their games. Nevertheless, he was concerned about Jenny. On the drive home, he asked whether Russell made her happy. Jenny said that he did, although she admitted that Russell could sometimes be difficult. Forrest asked whether Russell was ever mean to her. Jenny looked out the window for several seconds before saying that he wasn't mean, exactly, but that he had strong opinions. Forrest nodded and said that strong opinions were all right as long as Russell treated her nicely. Jenny smiled, reached across the seat, and squeezed his hand.

The wedding planning began shortly afterward. Russell wanted a large, elaborate ceremony at an exclusive waterfront estate outside Savannah, with approximately three hundred guests, a formal rehearsal dinner, an extensive cocktail reception, and a honeymoon in the Mediterranean. Jenny preferred something more intimate, but Russell argued that several important clients and business associates would be offended if they were excluded. Forrest agreed to organize the larger event, though he made an effort to incorporate Jenny's preferences wherever possible. He spent several weeks visiting venues, interviewing caterers, and comparing arrangements that initially seemed unnecessarily complicated. His approach was characteristically straightforward. When a vendor quoted an exorbitant fee for floral arrangements, Forrest asked whether the flowers were somehow different from those grown at ordinary nurseries. When told that the price reflected exclusivity and artistic vision, he replied that they looked like pretty normal flowers to him. He eventually found a local florist whose work Jenny loved and whose prices were substantially more reasonable.

Lieutenant Dan Taylor became involved in the arrangements almost by accident. Forrest had called him to ask whether he knew anyone who could provide transportation for a large wedding party, reasoning that Dan's experience managing business operations might be useful. Dan listened to the explanation, asked why Forrest was organizing Jenny's wedding to another man, and responded to Forrest's answer with several seconds of stunned silence. When Forrest explained that Jenny wanted the wedding to be nice and that Russell was too busy to organize everything himself, Dan erupted into laughter.

“Forrest,” he said, “let me get this straight. You spent ten years in prison for this woman, and now you're planning her wedding to some asshole you've met twice?”

Forrest explained that he had actually met Russell three times.

Dan told him that this was not the relevant part of the question.

Despite his objections, Dan agreed to help, partly because he cared about Forrest and partly because he suspected that the wedding would become a spectacular disaster without adult supervision. He arrived in Savannah two months before the ceremony and immediately began identifying problems that Forrest had either overlooked or regarded as unimportant. Russell had insisted on reserving expensive accommodations for several business associates while asking that Jenny's older friends stay at a less convenient hotel. He had negotiated with vendors in a manner that created unnecessary tension, repeatedly demanded complimentary upgrades, and attempted to substitute his own business contacts for established professionals without explaining the arrangements to Forrest. Dan reviewed the contracts, discovered several questionable provisions, and informed Russell that he would personally ensure every vendor received the payment promised.

Russell disliked Dan almost immediately. Dan was unimpressed by expensive watches, had little patience for business jargon, and possessed a vocabulary that became considerably less diplomatic when confronted with obvious dishonesty. During their first planning meeting, Russell explained that certain guests needed to be accommodated because they represented important strategic relationships. Dan asked whether those relationships were important enough to justify moving Jenny's elderly aunt to a hotel twenty miles away. Russell replied that Dan didn't understand the economics of high-level networking. Dan stared at him and said that he understood the economics of telling someone to go screw himself perfectly well.

Forrest attempted to mediate by suggesting that everyone have some lemonade.

The central conflict emerged approximately six weeks before the wedding, when Russell proposed using a portion of the wedding budget to finance a private investment opportunity. He explained that a short-term transaction could generate enough money to cover several additional amenities and that the funds would be returned before the final vendor payments were due. Forrest listened politely before explaining that the money was supposed to pay for the wedding. Russell insisted that sophisticated investors understood the importance of making capital work efficiently. Forrest replied that he thought it was already working pretty well because the caterer had agreed to serve chicken and shrimp, and the florist had confirmed that the flowers would arrive on time. Russell became irritated and accused Forrest of lacking financial sophistication.

Dan, who had been listening from the doorway, informed Russell that Forrest was considerably wealthier than he was and that attempting to lecture him about financial management was an exceptionally stupid decision. Russell responded that inherited wealth and genuine entrepreneurial ability were different things. Dan laughed so hard that he had to sit down.

Forrest ultimately declined to release any funds for Russell's proposed investment. He did so without anger or confrontation, explaining that he had promised Jenny a nice wedding and that using the money for something else would make it harder to keep that promise. Russell complained privately to Jenny that Forrest was being controlling and that Dan was deliberately undermining him. Jenny attempted to reassure Russell, but she also began noticing how frequently he became angry when people refused his requests.

As the wedding approached, the groom's shortcomings became increasingly difficult to ignore. Russell criticized Jenny's wedding dress, suggesting that a more expensive designer might produce something better suited to the event's social importance. He objected to several songs she had selected because they reminded him of people and places he considered embarrassing. He complained that Forrest's involvement was inappropriate, arguing that no respectable man would allow his fiancée's former romantic interest to occupy such an important role in the wedding. Jenny reminded him that Forrest was one of her oldest friends and that he had devoted months to organizing the ceremony. Russell replied that this was precisely the problem: Forrest's devotion was abnormal, and Jenny needed to stop indulging it.

Forrest was present when this conversation occurred. He had arrived with samples of table linens and was standing near the doorway when Russell raised his voice. Jenny became visibly upset and asked Russell to stop speaking about Forrest that way. Russell responded that he was merely stating an obvious fact and that the entire arrangement was humiliating. Forrest quietly placed the linen samples on a table and said that if Russell wanted someone else to organize the wedding, he would understand. Jenny immediately objected, saying that she wanted Forrest involved. Russell looked at her with irritation, then announced that he needed some air and left.

For several minutes, Jenny sat silently at the kitchen table. Forrest asked whether she was all right. She said she was tired and that planning a wedding was more stressful than she had expected. Forrest nodded and told her that weddings were supposed to be happy occasions. Jenny replied that Russell had been under a lot of pressure at work and that she didn't want to judge him too harshly. Forrest considered this before saying that everyone got upset sometimes, but that he didn't think Russell should make her feel bad about things she liked. Jenny looked at him for a long moment, then asked whether he thought she was making a mistake.

Forrest did not answer immediately. He loved Jenny, and he understood that a truthful answer might influence her decision. He also understood, in his uncomplicated but remarkably consistent way, that she deserved to make that decision herself. He told her that he didn't know whether marrying Russell was a mistake because he wasn't the one marrying him. He said that Russell wasn't always very nice, and that Jenny deserved someone who treated her kindly. But he added that if she loved Russell and wanted to marry him, he would help make the wedding as beautiful as she wanted.

Jenny began crying. Forrest sat beside her and held her hand until she stopped.

The wedding proceeded as scheduled.

On the morning of the ceremony, the waterfront estate was transformed into a magnificent venue. White flowers lined the paths leading toward the ceremony area, where rows of chairs faced the water beneath a large canopy. Forrest had arranged for musicians to perform several songs Jenny remembered from her childhood, and had personally ensured that her family and oldest friends received comfortable accommodations close to the property. The reception featured an elegant but unpretentious menu, with shrimp included partly because Jenny liked it and partly because Forrest knew where to obtain particularly good shrimp at a reasonable price. Every vendor had been paid, transportation was coordinated, and the elaborate schedule Russell had demanded was functioning with almost military precision. Lieutenant Dan, wearing a formal suit and looking deeply uncomfortable with the entire concept of wedding photography, had assumed responsibility for handling last-minute problems. He carried a clipboard, a radio, and the expression of a man who would cheerfully fight another war if it meant never having to discuss table centerpieces again.

The first major problem occurred when Russell arrived nearly forty minutes late, explaining that he had been dealing with an urgent business matter. Dan informed him that the business matter would have to wait because three hundred people were already assembling for the ceremony. Russell responded that important men did not organize their schedules around caterers. Dan replied that important men generally managed to arrive at their own weddings on time.

The second problem occurred when Russell discovered that several of Jenny's oldest friends had been seated near the front rather than his business associates. He demanded that the arrangement be changed. Forrest explained that Jenny had specifically requested those seats for people who mattered to her. Russell insisted that the seating plan reflected poorly on his professional standing. Dan informed him that if he wanted a better view of the ceremony, he was welcome to marry himself.

The third and most serious problem occurred shortly before the ceremony, when Russell made a disparaging remark about Jenny's past in front of several members of the wedding party. He described her as someone who had needed considerable guidance to become suitable for the life he intended to provide. Jenny overheard the comment and withdrew into a nearby room, visibly shaken. Forrest found her sitting alone in her wedding dress, staring at the floor. He asked whether she wanted him to bring her something to drink. Jenny shook her head. After several minutes, she asked why he was doing all of this for her when he knew how she had treated him over the years.

Forrest sat beside her and said that he liked helping her.

Jenny told him that she had been selfish, that she had repeatedly hurt him, and that she had allowed him to sacrifice more than anyone should ever sacrifice for another person. Forrest listened without interrupting. When she finished, he said that he knew she had been through a lot and that he hoped she would be happy. Jenny asked whether he wanted her to marry Russell.

Forrest looked at her and answered with a seriousness that surprised her.

“I want you to be happy, Jenny. I don't think he's always very nice to you. But it's your wedding. You get to decide.”

Jenny stared at him, then began crying again.

Forrest handed her a tissue.

After several minutes, she stood, straightened her dress, and announced that she was ready.

The ceremony began nearly an hour behind schedule, but everything else proceeded smoothly. Forrest stood near the front as Jenny walked toward the altar. Lieutenant Dan sat in the first row, his expression alternating between affectionate pride toward Forrest and unmistakable contempt for Russell. The officiant delivered a brief introduction concerning love, commitment, and the responsibilities of marriage. Russell smiled confidently, occasionally glancing toward the assembled guests as though assessing the professional value of their attendance. Jenny looked nervous but composed.

When the officiant asked whether anyone had a lawful objection to the marriage, Dan leaned slightly toward Forrest and whispered that he could probably come up with six or seven.

Forrest told him to be quiet.

Dan smiled despite himself.

The vows proceeded. Russell delivered a polished statement that emphasized his commitment to providing Jenny with security, opportunity, and a future worthy of her potential. Jenny's vows were more personal, describing her hope that marriage would offer stability and a chance to build something lasting. When the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, the guests applauded, the musicians began playing, and Forrest smiled as Jenny kissed her new husband.

The reception was an overwhelming logistical success. The food was excellent, the entertainment was well received, and the elaborate decorations created precisely the atmosphere Jenny had requested. Forrest moved through the crowd ensuring that guests were comfortable, periodically stopping to speak with old acquaintances or help staff members carry supplies. Dan remained near the bar, where he entertained several guests with stories about the shrimping business and repeatedly declined invitations to dance. When Russell attempted to persuade a business associate to participate in another questionable investment opportunity, Dan intervened with a pointed reminder that the groom was supposed to be enjoying his wedding rather than soliciting capital.

Late in the evening, Forrest found Jenny standing alone near the water. She was watching the lights reflected across the bay, her wedding dress moving gently in the breeze. Forrest approached and asked whether she had enjoyed the day. Jenny smiled and said that it had been beautiful. She thanked him for everything he had done and told him that she didn't know how she could ever repay him. Forrest replied that she didn't owe him anything. Jenny looked at him with an expression of profound sadness and affection, then leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

Forrest smiled.

A few minutes later, Russell called for Jenny from the reception hall. She turned toward the sound, hesitated, and eventually walked back toward her husband.

Forrest watched her go.

Lieutenant Dan approached carrying two glasses of champagne and handed one to Forrest.

“Well,” Dan said, looking toward the reception, “you did it. You put together one hell of a wedding for one hell of an asshole.”

Forrest nodded.

“It was a pretty nice wedding, Lieutenant Dan.”

Dan studied him for a moment.

“You know he's a prick, right?”

Forrest looked toward Russell, who was speaking animatedly to a group of guests while Jenny stood beside him.

“Yes, sir,” Forrest said quietly. “I reckon he can be.”

Dan took a long drink.

“And you still went through with all this?”

Forrest nodded again.

“Jenny wanted to get married.”

Dan was silent for several seconds. Then he shook his head, laughed softly, and placed a hand on Forrest's shoulder.

“Goddamn, Forrest.”

The two men stood together watching the reception. Forrest appeared content, although there was a quiet sadness in his expression that Dan recognized and chose not to discuss. He had organized an extraordinary wedding for the woman he loved, to a man he knew did not treat her as well as she deserved. He had done everything possible to make the day beautiful while refusing to deceive Jenny about his concerns or interfere with her freedom to choose.

His performance was almost flawless.

But the championship would not be decided by logistics alone.

Finalist Two: George Michael Bluth

A Bluth Family Wedding

George Michael learned of Maeby's engagement under circumstances that would have been considered suspicious in almost any family other than his own. Maeby had recently become involved with a producer named Parker Whitman, a handsome, impeccably dressed man in his early thirties who claimed to have developed a revolutionary investment model involving streaming media, celebrity branding, and fractional ownership of intellectual property. Nobody in the Bluth family understood what this meant, although Gob immediately announced that he had been considering something similar for years. Parker had met Maeby at an industry party and proposed marriage after approximately four months of dating, explaining that their union would represent a powerful alignment of complementary personal brands. Maeby, who had become increasingly fascinated by the possibility of transforming her personal life into a business venture, accepted.

George Michael received the news during dinner at a restaurant selected by Maeby because it offered complimentary appetizers to couples celebrating engagements. He initially assumed that she was referring to a professional arrangement, largely because she had used the phrase “strategic partnership” several times before mentioning marriage. When he realized that Parker was going to become her husband, he stopped chewing. Maeby asked whether he was okay. George Michael nodded, swallowed with difficulty, and said that he thought it was really great. He then congratulated Parker, accidentally referred to him as “partner” rather than “Parker,” corrected himself, apologized, and knocked his water glass into a basket of bread. Parker laughed and told him not to worry about it, adding that he admired people who were comfortable being vulnerable. George Michael thanked him, although he wasn't certain whether vulnerability was supposed to include spilling water.

The request that George Michael organize the wedding emerged almost immediately. Maeby explained that she and Parker were both extremely busy and that George Michael had always been good at handling details. Parker agreed, describing George Michael as exactly the sort of dependable operational personality that a successful creative partnership required. George Michael asked whether they had considered hiring a professional wedding planner. Maeby replied that professionals were expensive and that it would mean more to her if someone who really cared about her handled the arrangements. George Michael said he would be happy to help. He then spent the remainder of the dinner quietly attempting to determine whether agreeing to organize his cousin's wedding to another man was evidence of emotional maturity or a sign that something had gone profoundly wrong with his life.

The Bluth family reacted to the engagement with predictable enthusiasm and equally predictable self-interest. Lucille immediately began investigating Parker's family finances, explaining that she had no intention of attending a wedding involving people who were merely pretending to be wealthy. Michael expressed concern that Maeby was moving too quickly and privately asked George Michael whether he was comfortable organizing the ceremony. George Michael assured his father that everything was fine, although he admitted that it might be a little strange. Michael replied that the important thing was not to allow Maeby to take advantage of his generosity. George Michael agreed and then mentioned that Maeby had already asked him to cover the deposit on the venue until some of Parker's investment money became available. Michael closed his eyes and said that this was precisely what he had been talking about.

Gob, meanwhile, announced that he would be providing the wedding entertainment. He described his proposed performance as a revolutionary combination of illusion, aerial choreography, and live emotional storytelling. When George Michael explained that Maeby had requested a relatively traditional ceremony, Gob became offended and accused him of suppressing artistic innovation. He then demonstrated a prototype involving a silk scarf, a mechanical dove, and a small quantity of lighter fluid. The demonstration ended when the dove escaped into Lucille's living room and the lighter fluid damaged a decorative table. Gob declared the experiment a success because nobody had anticipated the outcome.

Buster became concerned about the possibility of attending a large social event and asked whether the ceremony would include military personnel. Lucille told him that weddings did not ordinarily involve military personnel unless someone had made an exceptionally poor decision. Buster responded that he would feel more comfortable if security were present. Tobias volunteered to officiate the wedding, explaining that his years as both a physician and an actor had prepared him to guide couples through the most intimate moments of their lives. Lindsay immediately objected, announcing that Tobias should not be permitted to conduct any ceremony involving the word “union” until their own marital situation had been satisfactorily resolved.

George Michael attempted to manage these disputes through a series of increasingly elaborate spreadsheets. He created separate tabs for catering, transportation, accommodations, flowers, entertainment, seating assignments, dietary restrictions, and potential family conflicts. He also developed a color-coded system identifying which relatives could safely be seated near one another. Lucille and Lindsay were placed in different sections. Gob was assigned a table near the rear of the room, although he immediately objected that this would diminish his visibility. Buster was initially seated beside Lucille, but George Michael reconsidered after remembering that Buster sometimes became agitated when she directed too much attention toward other people. Tobias was assigned a seat near the stage because he had announced that he might need to make several theatrical entrances during the reception.

The venue presented the first major logistical crisis. Maeby wanted an elegant outdoor ceremony at a coastal estate, preferably somewhere with ocean views, historical architecture, and the atmosphere of understated generational wealth. Parker wanted a venue that could accommodate a large number of industry contacts and potentially support a documentary production about the wedding. George Michael located a beautiful estate that appeared to satisfy both requirements, negotiated a favorable rental agreement, and paid a substantial deposit from his personal savings. Three days later, he discovered that the property was owned through a subsidiary of the Bluth Company and was currently involved in litigation concerning several unauthorized construction projects. Michael assured him that the legal problems were minor and that the company had successfully hosted numerous events there. George Michael asked when the most recent event had occurred. Michael replied that it depended on how one defined an event.

The estate was eventually ruled unsuitable after an inspection revealed that portions of the outdoor terrace had been constructed without adequate support. George Michael spent several days attempting to recover the deposit, only to learn that the funds had already been transferred into an account associated with one of George Sr.'s investment ventures. George Sr., contacted through an intermediary, explained that the money was temporarily unavailable but that George Michael should regard the situation as an opportunity to demonstrate confidence in the family business. When George Michael pointed out that the wedding was only four months away, George Sr. suggested that he consider holding the ceremony in Mexico, where the family had several properties of uncertain ownership.

George Michael declined.

His next venue was a restored historic mansion owned by a retired entertainment executive. It offered beautiful grounds, excellent catering facilities, and sufficient space for the guest list. Maeby loved it. Parker approved of its prestige. George Michael signed the contract and spent several weeks coordinating vendors, only to discover that Gob had independently booked the property for an illusion demonstration scheduled on the same day. Gob insisted that his contract took precedence because he had reserved the venue under the name “The Great Gob.” George Michael spent an entire afternoon negotiating with him, eventually agreeing to incorporate a brief illusion into the wedding reception in exchange for moving the larger performance elsewhere.

This concession would prove extraordinarily expensive.

Meanwhile, Maeby's expectations expanded steadily. She initially wanted a modest ceremony with approximately one hundred guests. Within a month, the list had grown to two hundred and fifty, partly because Parker insisted on inviting professional contacts and partly because Lucille began adding people she believed should witness the family's continued social prominence. Maeby also developed an interest in custom-designed invitations featuring elaborate embossed lettering, imported stationery, and a personalized monogram that incorporated both her initials and Parker's. George Michael suggested that a simpler design might be more economical. Maeby replied that she had always imagined her wedding as something special and that she didn't want to compromise on the details that mattered. George Michael immediately agreed, then spent several evenings researching specialty printers.

The wedding dress became another source of emotional distress. Maeby asked George Michael to accompany her to several fittings because Parker considered the process uninteresting and Lindsay was unavailable due to a wellness retreat. George Michael spent hours sitting in bridal boutiques while Maeby tried on increasingly elaborate gowns. She repeatedly asked which dress he preferred, and he found himself unable to offer any answer that seemed appropriate. When he said a dress looked beautiful, he worried that he sounded too enthusiastic. When he offered a practical observation about the fabric or fit, he worried that she would interpret it as criticism. Eventually, he developed a strategy of telling Maeby that each dress looked nice but that she should choose whichever made her happiest. This worked until she accused him of not having an opinion and demanded that he be honest.

George Michael selected a simple ivory gown that he believed suited her better than the more elaborate alternatives. Maeby looked at herself in the mirror, smiled, and told him that he had surprisingly good taste. George Michael blushed so intensely that the sales associate asked whether he needed water.

For the next several days, he regarded this moment as one of the emotional highlights of his adult life.

The financial arrangements deteriorated as the wedding approached. Parker repeatedly promised to contribute substantial sums but claimed that his investment accounts were temporarily inaccessible due to ongoing restructuring. Maeby assured George Michael that the money would arrive eventually and that Parker had an excellent business opportunity pending. George Michael, who had already paid numerous deposits, began using his personal credit cards to cover vendor expenses. When Michael discovered the extent of these expenditures, he confronted his son and demanded that he establish boundaries. George Michael agreed, explaining that he intended to discuss the budget with Maeby at their next meeting. At that meeting, Maeby mentioned that she wanted an additional floral installation near the ceremony entrance. George Michael said that the budget was becoming a little tight. Maeby looked disappointed and remarked that she supposed they could do without it. George Michael immediately offered to find a less expensive vendor. By the end of the conversation, he had agreed to the floral installation, upgraded the reception linens, and volunteered to assemble personalized guest favors by hand.

Michael was furious.

“George Michael, you cannot keep doing everything she asks just because you're afraid she'll be disappointed.”

George Michael insisted that he wasn't afraid of disappointing her.

Michael pointed out that he had spent the previous evening assembling three hundred miniature gift boxes containing imported chocolates because Maeby had mentioned that ordinary wedding favors felt impersonal.

George Michael explained that the chocolates had been on sale.

Michael asked how much the boxes had cost.

George Michael said that he didn't think that was really the important part.

Michael left the room.

The crisis involving the groom occurred approximately three weeks before the wedding. George Michael discovered that Parker's supposed investment business had accumulated substantial debts and that several of the companies he claimed to represent either did not exist or had ceased operations years earlier. The information emerged when a vendor contacted George Michael to report that a payment issued through Parker's business account had been rejected. George Michael initially assumed the problem was administrative, but further investigation revealed an increasingly alarming pattern of unpaid obligations, misleading financial claims, and professional relationships that appeared considerably less substantial than Parker had suggested.

George Michael confronted Parker privately, explaining that he was concerned about several inconsistencies and wanted to make sure Maeby understood the situation. Parker responded with remarkable confidence, assuring him that the apparent problems reflected the complexity of modern investment structures. He praised George Michael's attention to detail while suggesting that his lack of experience in high-level finance made it difficult for him to appreciate the broader strategy. George Michael listened politely but remained unconvinced. When he asked whether Parker intended to tell Maeby about the debts, Parker became visibly irritated and accused him of attempting to interfere in a relationship he did not understand.

The accusation devastated George Michael. He had spent months working to make Maeby happy, and the suggestion that he was secretly attempting to undermine her engagement struck directly at his deepest insecurities. He apologized for any misunderstanding, then spent several days debating whether he should tell Maeby what he had discovered. Ultimately, he concluded that she deserved to know. He approached her carefully, presented the information without exaggeration, and explained that he was worried Parker might not have been entirely truthful about his finances.

Maeby was initially furious, not because George Michael had investigated Parker, but because she had already suspected much of what he discovered. She explained that Parker's business model was largely speculative and that the wedding itself might provide valuable exposure for several related ventures. George Michael asked whether she understood that Parker appeared to owe substantial amounts of money. Maeby replied that debt was a normal part of entrepreneurship and that nobody ever became successful by refusing to take risks. George Michael reminded her that Parker had repeatedly promised to reimburse the wedding expenses. Maeby looked uncomfortable, then admitted that the reimbursement might take longer than expected.

For a moment, George Michael considered refusing to continue.

He had spent years protecting Maeby, including a decade in prison for a murder she had committed. He had now devoted nearly six months and a substantial portion of his savings to organizing her marriage to a man whose financial situation appeared increasingly dubious. He was exhausted, emotionally distressed, and privately horrified by the possibility that Maeby was making a terrible mistake. But when he looked at her, he saw the same person he had loved for most of his life, and the thought of disappointing her remained almost unbearable.

He told her that he would finish the wedding.

Maeby hugged him and said that she knew she could always count on him.

George Michael went home and cried in the shower.

The final week of preparations descended into precisely the kind of chaos that had characterized nearly every significant Bluth family event. Lucille announced that she would not attend unless her preferred seating arrangements were restored. Lindsay insisted that the wedding should incorporate an environmental sustainability initiative, although she became offended when George Michael suggested eliminating several imported floral arrangements. Tobias discovered that the officiant Maeby had hired was a former acting colleague and attempted to replace him through a series of increasingly theatrical appeals. Buster became convinced that one of the caterers was a military intelligence operative after noticing that the man wore an earpiece. Gob attempted to test his planned illusion in the mansion's reception hall and accidentally released several hundred live butterflies into the ventilation system. George Michael spent an entire afternoon helping staff members remove them, repeatedly apologizing for a problem he had not caused.

On the morning of the wedding, the mansion was transformed into an extraordinary spectacle of elegance and controlled excess. White flowers covered the ceremony arch, hundreds of candles illuminated the reception hall, and carefully arranged seating areas offered views of the gardens. George Michael had personally supervised nearly every detail, ensuring that the decorations reflected Maeby's preferences and that the vendors understood the schedule. His organizational efforts were remarkable, particularly given the continual interference of his relatives. He had negotiated contracts, resolved disputes, replaced unreliable suppliers, and somehow managed to keep the event within a budget that had expanded considerably beyond its original limits. The final costs had exhausted most of his savings and left him with a substantial amount of personal debt, but he had persuaded himself that the money was less important than making Maeby happy.

The first disaster occurred when Lucille arrived wearing a white dress.

Maeby stared at her for several seconds before asking whether she understood that white was traditionally reserved for the bride. Lucille replied that she had worn white to numerous weddings and that nobody had ever confused her with the bride. Lindsay immediately pointed out that this was because Lucille generally made a point of telling everyone who the bride was and why she was disappointed in her. Lucille dismissed the comment and asked George Michael to bring her a drink.

The second disaster occurred when Tobias appeared wearing an outfit that could generously be described as a theatrical interpretation of formal wedding attire. He explained that he had been rehearsing for an audition involving a European aristocrat and thought the costume might provide an elegant alternative to conventional menswear. Lindsay informed him that he looked like a magician who had been banned from children's birthday parties. Gob, overhearing the remark, became offended on behalf of magicians everywhere.

The third disaster occurred when Parker's best man failed to appear. Parker explained that the man had been detained overseas due to a misunderstanding involving financial documentation. George Michael offered to help find a replacement, and Parker immediately suggested that he take the position himself. George Michael hesitated, pointing out that he was already coordinating the wedding and might not be able to handle both responsibilities. Maeby enthusiastically endorsed the idea, explaining that George Michael was practically family to both of them.

George Michael agreed.

The fourth disaster occurred when Gob announced that the wedding would feature a surprise illusion involving the ceremonial rings. George Michael reminded him that they had agreed to a brief performance during the reception, not the ceremony. Gob insisted that a true illusionist could not be constrained by arbitrary scheduling. He then attempted to demonstrate a ring disappearance trick for Parker, accidentally dropping one of the rings into a decorative fountain. George Michael spent fifteen minutes searching through the water while Gob explained to several nearby guests that the disappearance had been intentional and that the recovery phase was still being developed.

The fifth disaster was almost entirely George Michael's fault. Having spent several nights assembling wedding favors and finalizing seating charts, he had slept fewer than four hours in the preceding two days. During the rehearsal, he accidentally handed the officiant an outdated copy of the ceremony schedule that included several notes he had written for himself. One note read, “Make sure Maeby is happy even if it kills me.” Another read, “Do not cry during vows.” A third simply said, “Remember Parker is a person too.” The officiant, uncertain whether these were part of the ceremony, began reading them aloud. George Michael rushed forward to retrieve the document, collided with a flower arrangement, and sent several decorative branches tumbling across the aisle.

Maeby laughed.

George Michael apologized.

Parker looked irritated.

Michael, watching from the front row, covered his face with his hands.

Despite these complications, the ceremony began only twenty minutes late. George Michael stood beside Parker at the front of the room, holding the rings in a small velvet box and attempting to maintain a neutral expression. He had chosen a dark suit that Michael had purchased for him, although he had repeatedly worried that it was too formal, too informal, or somehow suggestive of inappropriate enthusiasm for the wedding. As Maeby appeared at the entrance to the garden, George Michael felt his stomach tighten. She looked beautiful in the ivory dress he had helped select, her hair arranged exactly as she had wanted, her expression bright with excitement. For a moment, he remembered the first time he had realized he was in love with her, years before prison, before the hurricane, before any of the extraordinary sacrifices that had brought him to this moment.

Then he looked at Parker.

Parker smiled confidently as Maeby approached. He appeared entirely unaware of George Michael's distress, having spent much of the morning complaining about minor inconveniences and asking whether the wedding photographs would be suitable for professional branding. George Michael attempted to focus on the ceremony. The officiant spoke about partnership, mutual respect, and the importance of supporting one another through life's difficulties. George Michael listened with increasing discomfort, aware that he had spent most of his adult life demonstrating precisely those qualities toward a woman who was now pledging herself to someone else.

When the officiant asked whether anyone present objected to the marriage, George Michael felt an almost physical impulse to speak. He knew about Parker's debts, his questionable business dealings, and his tendency to treat Maeby's life as an extension of his own professional ambitions. He also knew that Maeby had made her decision after being informed of these concerns. His objection, therefore, would not merely be an attempt to protect her. It would be an attempt to reclaim a romantic possibility that had never truly belonged to him.

He remained silent.

The vows proceeded. Maeby promised to support Parker through success and failure, although she added an improvised remark suggesting that she strongly preferred success. Parker delivered an elaborate statement about the power of shared ambition and the limitless potential of their future together. George Michael noticed that the speech sounded remarkably similar to one of Parker's investor presentations, but said nothing. When the officiant announced that Parker could kiss the bride, George Michael looked down at the grass.

The kiss lasted approximately six seconds.

To George Michael, it felt substantially longer.

The guests applauded. Music began playing. Maeby and Parker walked back down the aisle as husband and wife. George Michael followed with the wedding party, smiling whenever someone looked toward him and attempting to conceal the fact that his hands were shaking.

The reception initially proceeded with remarkable success. The catering was excellent, the decorations attracted universal praise, and the elaborate seating arrangements prevented several anticipated family conflicts. Even Lucille admitted that the event was tasteful, although she added that the flowers seemed a little excessive and that she had attended funerals with better champagne. Michael approached George Michael near the bar and told him that he had done an incredible job. George Michael thanked him and attempted to explain that the vendors deserved most of the credit. Michael shook his head and said that he was proud of him.

For a moment, George Michael appeared close to tears.

Then Gob began his illusion.

The performance was intended to involve the apparent disappearance of the groom, who would enter a decorative cabinet and reappear moments later beside the bride. Gob had arranged for several assistants to operate the mechanism, although he had neglected to inform the venue's staff that the cabinet contained a small quantity of theatrical smoke equipment. During the demonstration, a malfunction triggered the building's fire alarm, causing several guests to panic. The cabinet door jammed, trapping Parker inside while smoke began emerging from the sides. Gob insisted that the situation was part of the performance and repeatedly shouted for the audience to remain calm. George Michael rushed forward, located the emergency release, and helped free Parker just as the mansion's sprinkler system activated.

Within seconds, much of the reception hall was soaked.

Lucille screamed that her dress was ruined. Lindsay began shouting about environmental irresponsibility. Tobias attempted to calm the guests by delivering an improvised monologue about the cleansing power of water. Buster became convinced that the sprinkler activation was a coordinated attack and hid beneath a banquet table. Gob declared that the illusion had been an overwhelming success because nobody had anticipated the groom's reappearance under such dramatic circumstances.

George Michael stood in the center of the chaos, drenched, exhausted, and holding a clipboard whose ink had begun to run. For several seconds, he appeared genuinely unable to process what had happened.

Then he began fixing things.

He coordinated with the venue staff to relocate the remaining reception activities to a covered outdoor pavilion that had been prepared as a contingency for bad weather. He arranged for the caterers to transfer food and beverages, contacted the musicians to reposition their equipment, and persuaded the photographer that the unexpected water damage might produce unusually memorable images. He found replacement table linens, reorganized the seating arrangements, and personally helped move decorations to the new location. He apologized to every guest he encountered, despite having played no role in causing the disaster.

By the time the reception resumed, the interruption had become a story that guests were already recounting with laughter. Maeby, who had initially been furious, began enjoying the absurdity of the situation. Parker remained irritated, particularly because his suit had been damaged, but eventually accepted that the wedding could continue. George Michael, meanwhile, was experiencing a level of physical and emotional exhaustion that would have concerned anyone paying close attention to him.

The defining moment came during the speeches.

Parker's original best man had failed to appear, and George Michael had been asked to fill the role with almost no preparation. He had spent much of the preceding week writing and rewriting a speech, attempting to strike a balance between affection, humor, and appropriate distance. He wanted to celebrate Maeby without revealing the full extent of his feelings, praise Parker without sounding dishonest, and express genuine happiness for the couple without collapsing into tears. The final document was seventeen pages long, although he had condensed it into a shorter version after Michael suggested that the guests might prefer to eat dinner before midnight.

George Michael stood before the assembled guests, adjusted the microphone, and began speaking.

He described Maeby as one of the most extraordinary people he had ever known, someone whose creativity, confidence, and ability to find opportunities in unexpected places had inspired him throughout his life. He recalled several childhood experiences, carefully omitting the more legally questionable details, and joked about the difficulty of keeping up with her constantly changing plans. The audience laughed. He then spoke about the importance of supporting the people one loves, explaining that relationships were not always easy and that sometimes caring for someone meant helping them pursue a future that looked different from the one you had imagined.

His voice faltered slightly.

He paused, took a sip of water, and continued.

George Michael said that Maeby deserved to be happy, that she deserved a life filled with adventure and affection, and that he hoped Parker understood how fortunate he was to share that life with her. He acknowledged that he had occasionally worried too much about the details of the wedding, but explained that he had wanted everything to be perfect because Maeby had always meant so much to him. He then raised his glass and wished the couple a long and happy marriage.

The speech was beautiful.

It was sincere, understated, and emotionally devastating in ways that most of the guests did not fully understand. Several people cried. Michael stood near the back of the pavilion with tears in his eyes. Even Lucille appeared briefly moved, although she later claimed that the emotion had been caused by irritation from the sprinkler water.

Maeby approached George Michael immediately afterward and embraced him.

“That was amazing,” she whispered. “Seriously. You're the best, George Michael.”

George Michael smiled weakly.

“Thanks. I just wanted it to be nice.”

Maeby pulled back and looked at him.

“I don't know what I'd do without you.”

For George Michael, the sentence was almost unbearable. He had spent years loving Maeby, endured a hurricane for her, surrendered a decade of his life to protect her from a murder conviction, and now organized her marriage to another man. He had exhausted his savings, sacrificed his emotional well-being, and spent months ensuring that every aspect of the wedding reflected her wishes. Yet the simple acknowledgment that she valued him, even in a way entirely different from the love he wanted, seemed sufficient to justify everything.

He thanked her.

Then he apologized for the sprinkler incident.

Maeby laughed and told him it wasn't his fault.

George Michael looked relieved.

The wedding continued late into the evening. Guests danced beneath strings of lights in the outdoor pavilion, the caterers served dessert, and Gob attempted several smaller illusions despite explicit instructions not to do so. Parker spent much of the reception discussing future business opportunities with guests, while Maeby circulated among friends and relatives. George Michael remained involved in the logistics until nearly midnight, ensuring that the vendors were paid, the decorations secured, and the transportation arrangements completed.

Near the end of the evening, Michael found his son sitting alone on a bench overlooking the garden.

George Michael was still wearing his suit, although the jacket had been removed and his tie was loosened. He looked exhausted.

Michael sat beside him.

“You did a good thing today.”

George Michael nodded.

“Yeah. I think it turned out pretty well.”

Michael looked toward the reception, where Maeby was dancing with Parker.

“Are you okay?”

George Michael hesitated.

“Yeah. I mean, it's a little weird, I guess.”

Michael waited.

George Michael looked down at his hands.

“I just always thought things might turn out differently.”

Michael placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, buddy. I know.”

They sat together for several minutes without speaking. Eventually, George Michael smiled faintly and asked whether Michael thought Maeby had enjoyed the wedding.

Michael looked at his son, then toward the elaborate reception he had spent six months organizing.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I think she did.”

George Michael nodded.

“Good.”

A few minutes later, Maeby appeared and asked whether George Michael could help arrange transportation for several guests who had missed the last shuttle. George Michael immediately stood, reassured her that it would be no problem, and began making phone calls.

Michael watched him walk away.

He had spent years trying to teach his son the importance of establishing boundaries, recognizing manipulation, and developing an independent sense of self-worth. Yet George Michael's instinct to help Maeby remained almost completely unaffected by experience, suffering, or rational advice. Even after everything he had endured, he appeared incapable of refusing her a favor.

The wedding ended shortly after one in the morning. Parker and Maeby departed for their honeymoon amid applause, photography, and a final unsuccessful attempt by Gob to make their limousine disappear. George Michael remained behind to help the venue staff collect abandoned belongings and resolve several outstanding invoices. By the time he finally returned home, it was nearly four in the morning.

He placed his suit jacket over a chair, sat on the edge of his bed, and checked his phone.

Maeby had sent him a message.

“Thanks for everything. Best wedding ever ❤️”

George Michael read it several times.

Then he smiled.

He had succeeded.

The Championship Decision

The final evaluation presented the judges with an unusually difficult question. Forrest Gump had organized a beautiful, sophisticated wedding for Jenny despite knowing that her prospective husband was selfish, manipulative, and frequently unkind. He had managed the event with remarkable competence, resisted attempts by Russell to exploit the wedding budget, and ensured that Jenny's own preferences remained central to the celebration. His conduct had been almost entirely selfless. He had offered honest advice when Jenny expressed doubts, refused to manipulate her decision, and ultimately supported her right to choose her own future. He had endured the emotional pain of watching her marry another man without allowing that pain to become resentment or possessiveness.

George Michael Bluth had organized an equally impressive wedding under circumstances of almost unimaginable dysfunction. He had managed the Bluth family's competing demands, navigated multiple venue crises, absorbed substantial personal financial losses, and repeatedly rescued the event from disasters caused by relatives whose collective judgment was barely adequate for ordinary daily life. His organizational accomplishments were remarkable, particularly given his lack of professional experience and the extraordinary emotional strain associated with planning Maeby's marriage to another man. He had also delivered a deeply moving speech celebrating the relationship, despite his longstanding romantic attachment to the bride.

On technical grounds, both men had performed exceptionally well. Forrest's wedding had been more elegant, better controlled, and substantially less chaotic. George Michael's had required greater improvisation, more complicated interpersonal management, and an almost limitless tolerance for unreasonable demands. Both had demonstrated unwavering commitment to their beloveds' happiness.

But the Simp Olympics had never been intended to identify the world's most genuinely loving man.

The competition existed to identify the person most willing to subordinate his dignity, interests, emotional well-being, and practical judgment to another person's affection.

Forrest Gump had endured extraordinary sacrifices, but his devotion had not fundamentally diminished him. He remained comfortable with himself, capable of recognizing mistreatment, and willing to express concern when Jenny appeared unhappy. He loved her without requiring her affection as proof of his own worth. Although his sacrifice was immense, he did not regard himself as incomplete without her romantic approval.

George Michael Bluth, by contrast, had repeatedly sacrificed his own interests because the possibility of disappointing Maeby was almost psychologically intolerable. He had endured physical danger, a decade of incarceration, profound emotional humiliation, and financial ruin while continuing to interpret the smallest expressions of gratitude as extraordinary rewards. He had organized an elaborate wedding for the woman he loved, to a man he distrusted, and had done so with such meticulous devotion that even the people exploiting him occasionally expressed genuine admiration.

Forrest had loved Jenny enough to help her marry someone else.

George Michael had loved Maeby enough to help her marry someone else while privately hoping, through every painful moment of the process, that his extraordinary devotion might finally make her recognize what she meant to him.

That distinction decided the championship.

The winner of the Simp Olympics was George Michael Bluth.

Epilogue: The Supreme Simp Several weeks after the wedding, George Michael received an unexpected telephone call from Maeby. She explained that the honeymoon had been complicated by a disagreement involving Parker's business finances and that they had returned home earlier than planned. Parker was apparently facing several legal questions concerning investments he had promoted before the wedding, and Maeby was concerned that some of the resulting difficulties might affect her personally. George Michael listened attentively, asked several questions, and suggested that she speak with an attorney.

Maeby explained that lawyers were expensive.

George Michael hesitated.

He had recently received several outstanding invoices from wedding vendors and was still attempting to reorganize his finances after the considerable expenses he had absorbed. His savings were depleted, his credit cards carried substantial balances, and he had only just begun adjusting to ordinary life after ten years in prison. He was exhausted, financially strained, and painfully aware that Maeby's problems had become an almost permanent feature of his existence.

For a moment, he considered explaining that he could not help.

Then Maeby sighed and told him that she really didn't know who else to call.

George Michael closed his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “No, of course. I can probably figure something out.”

Maeby thanked him and said that he was amazing.

George Michael smiled.

After the call ended, he opened his laptop and began researching attorneys.