As we stand here today, mourning another Simon (SimonTheBastard this time), it feels appropriate to take a step back and reflect on the especially brief nature of this latest run. 

We have seen many Simon's come and go. Such is the fleeting nature of the life of a Simon that any ordinary minute can feel heavy with consequence. But on a cosmic level, they occupy a microscopic fraction of reality. A Simon comes and a Simon goes, just as time sees a star exhausted of its fuel or a garden overrun with knotweed. 

Should we have appreciated our Simon's more? Should we have told them we love them, while we still could? 

Should we have shared our enormous lottery winnings with them, deposited into our accounts just an hour before their latest passing:

Sep 19, 00:00:01

You were paid $25,220,758 for winning the MafiaReturns.com cash lottery! (You had 2.85% of the total tickets.)

Perhaps not. Because then that money would have been gone forever, and we wouldn't be able to retire to Florida, to operate a gator farm in the swamplands. 

Time is a thief, robbing us of youth and memory. And Simon. Poor, fatherless Simon. 

Who was behind this latest act of Simoncide? The Plumbers, obviously. And to them I say, you do you. I cannot stop the future unfolding on its determined path, just as a vampire crew will pop up every two years, or Father-TeQ seems to talk almost exclusively about himself, a Simon will live and a Simon will die, in perpetuity. 

I wish you luck on your next journey, future Simon. Come see Uncle Text about a lottery allowance. I'm feeling very generous. 

I hope uncle Text sends his favorite nephew an allowance too. ME

Also, I am very sad to see Simon the 8th or 9th die now. The children that line makes is astounding.

And several of us take offense to the vampire in you, Ruby. Those of us with long family histories know of the Dark Days of Overlord brent and the first burgerhousings. SixPoundSoCals, an innocent pair of shoes looking only to protect the feet of TomJoad, was set ablaze in the middle of the streets. Buck Burgerhouse, First of His Name, was released from service in the most unceremonious of fashions, kicking off the most sinister trend in Cosa Nostra history. Like a virus, the disease spread outside of the parameters of the Chicago coven. My own family name was almost lost to the darkness. Burgerhousings in Las Vegas and New York. Reverse-Burgerhousings in Los Angeles. Nobody was safe, and nobody knew who was undead, who was a human ally, and who was a normal mobster.

As is always the case, the vampire insurgency was the beginning of the end for the old regime. Distrust was everywhere. Purgings left only vampires alive (undead). Vampires led to burgerhousings. The combination of purgings, burgerhousings, and vampires running amok led to the communist revolt and the downfall of the old regime.

Fury at the fate of Saint Otis Burgerhouse the Martyr, First of His Name, was the first domino to tip. Public sentiment turned from apathy to rage. The temperature was right for change. Shortly thereafter, the world's first reverse-burgerhousing led to an incredibly damaging counterattack courtesy of Ranger Burgerhouse the Pissed Off.

We know what happened next. The regime was weakened. The revolution was at its strongest. An alliance of people wearing stupid hats with a small contingent of swan hunters brought down Cosa Nostra. All because of vampires.

So yes, Ruby, some of us are very wary of the undead. The last time they reared their heads, the unintended result was a positive regime change, but that was due to fortune and bravery, not because of any positive impact from vampirism. All it proved was that vampirism is a destructive force. Wherever it appears, death and destruction follow. We must snuff it out immediately if we want to protect what we have.