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Simple Simon

Simple Simon

One thing that has always intrigued me is the idea of nature versus nurture. How people grow up based on what they’re exposed to as a kid, against what is just innately part of them, right? I wonder if Starboy was their unique self because of any particular points in history, or whether it was just nature and they were always going to end up exactly how they were.

It’s fucking fascinating right?

I think about it because especially in the modern age there’s a whole lot of media consumption for young people. There’s the obvious ones – games, films, comics. But before they really get into all of that, there are nursery rhymes. These catchy little ditties that are being drummed into the kids on a daily basis. What if nursery rhymes can give you a fucking complex?

‘Simple Simon met a pieman
Going to the fair;
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
“Let me taste your ware”‘

I know a Simon that’s pretty simple too. Simon has always wanted his fingers in as many pies as fucking possible. That’s why he’s all over the place, behind every scheme going – because he wants a taste of it all. The more pies you have in the race, the higher the chance of one being a hit.

‘Says the pieman to Simple Simon,
“Show me first your penny.”
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
“Indeed I have not any.”‘

But Simon never wants to pay what he owes. The debt increases – not in terms of money, like in the rhyme, but what he owes those around him on an emotional level. He keeps himself cold and aloof so that he never has to consider the feelings of others. So that they never get that emotional payoff.

Apart from Pyre.

‘Simple Simon went to look
If plums grew on a thistle;
He pricked his fingers very much,
Which made poor Simon whistle.’

Pyre is the thistle, pricking Simon’s fingers quietly in the darkness, only he has yet to notice. He wanted the fruit – the sweet nectar that Pyre brings, but gave no thought to the consequence.

He went for water in a sieve,
But soon it all ran through.
And now poor Simple Simon
Bids you all adieu’

And soon, just like Simon in the rhyme, our Simon will soon be left with his water leaking out around him. But will that water be his reputation, left in tatters, or will it be his blood – spilled by the very woman he proclaims to love? Only time will tell. But holding that sieve in his hands, that mess about ready to escape through the holes – it does not mean it’s over. Not quite yet. For there is always a way out. And Simon your way out is this: stop being so fucking simple, and instead use this opportunity to wake up and smell the bacon. Move your water to a fucking bowl!

I hope this kind of experience doesn’t nurture you too much, Simon. And I’m sorry for what comes next. It’s just in my nature.

Lets do it now and do it loud!