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Darlings, pour yourself something strong – you’ll need it after that jaw-dropping season finale of “The Gilded Age.” HBO’s lavish period drama just served up enough scandal to make a Vanderbilt blush, and honestly? We’re still catching our breath.

The third season wrapped with the kind of dramatic flourish that would make even the most jaded Manhattan socialite sit up straight. At its heart stands Bertha Russell – played with magnificent steel by Carrie Coon – watching her carefully constructed world crumble faster than last season’s bustles.

Let’s dish about that ending, shall we? Picture this: Bertha Russell, standing in her obscenely expensive Newport mansion (new money, darling, but who’s counting?), watching her husband’s carriage disappear into the distance. George’s parting shot about possibly not loving her anymore? Ouch. Heaven forbid a woman play the social climbing game as ruthlessly as the men – though in 1880s New York, what else was a girl to do?

The season’s high point arrived with all the subtlety of a Gilded Age ball gown when George Russell found himself on the business end of an assassin’s bullet. Suddenly, that meticulously appointed dining room became an impromptu operating theater. Thank heavens for Dr. William Kirkland (Jordan Donica) swooping in like a medical knight in shining armor – proving that sometimes the best drama happens when class lines blur.

Speaking of Dr. Kirkland… Well, well, well. Our favorite physician finally got over his maternal attachment issues (and not a moment too soon) to propose to Peggy (Denée Benton). About time our brilliant journalist/suffragette got her moment in the sun, even if it meant facing down the formidable Mrs. Kirkland. Phylicia Rashad continues to serve looks that could freeze the Hudson River solid.

Meanwhile, in a twist that probably has Agnes van Rhijn’s eyebrows reaching for the heavens, Oscar van Rhijn proposed a marriage of convenience to Mrs. Winterton. Christine Baranski’s inevitable reaction to this development might just be worth the wait until 2026’s season premiere.

Speaking of what’s ahead – Morgan Spector dropped a bombshell that’s got fans clutching their streaming devices. His ominous hint about George Russell’s fate (“be very worried”) coupled with that casual “no contract yet” comment? Faster than you can say “Newport summer season,” the fandom went into collective cardiac arrest.

HBO’s Francesca Orsi confirmed what we already knew – “The Gilded Age” is coming back for a fourth round of social warfare. With viewership numbers that would make even Mrs. Astor take notice, the show’s proven that 19th-century drama hits different when served with a side of historical grandeur.

As we wait for 2026 (honestly, these production schedules are getting longer than a Newport receiving line), one thing’s crystal clear: “The Gilded Age” continues serving up delicious proof that the machinations of old New York society were just as cutthroat as any modern power play. Though perhaps with better wardrobes.

After all, as Bertha so memorably declared at her ball, “The future belongs to America.” Just maybe not to those who dare to challenge the established order while wearing last season’s Worth gown. But then again, when has fashion ever stopped a true social climber?

Eddie Murphy’s Hollywood journey has always been anything but predictable — and his latest takes on his own filmography prove exactly that. In a delightfully candid moment that’s pure Murphy, the comedy icon recently doubled down on defending his notorious 2007 film Norbit, while simultaneously raising eyebrows with his personal “Mount Rushmore” of career highlights.

“I love Norbit,” Murphy declared during a Complex interview, delivering the statement with the kind of unapologetic swagger that’s defined his four-decade reign in Hollywood. The timing of this defense feels particularly intriguing as we approach 2025’s anticipated comedy renaissance, where the industry seems desperate for bold, boundary-pushing humor.

Let’s talk about that elephant in the room — or rather, that prosthetic-laden character that earned Murphy multiple Razzie nominations. Norbit, currently sitting at a brutal 9% on Rotten Tomatoes (ouch), dropped right when Murphy was riding high on Oscar buzz for Dreamgirls. Talk about cosmic timing. Critics practically developed carpal tunnel syndrome writing think pieces about how this broad comedy might derail Murphy’s Academy Awards chances.

But here’s where it gets juicy — while critics were clutching their pearls, audiences were clutching their sides laughing all the way to the box office. Norbit hauled in $159 million against its $60 million budget. Not too shabby for a film that some claimed might end careers.

Perhaps even more fascinating is Murphy’s recent curation of his own legacy. When asked to name his personal Mount Rushmore of films, his choices read like a masterclass in career introspection: Trading Places, The Nutty Professor, Dreamgirls, and Shrek. Hold up — no Beverly Hills Cop? The film that transformed him from SNL hotshot to bonafide movie star somehow didn’t make the cut.

Murphy initially included 48 Hrs. in his lineup before swapping it out for Dreamgirls, describing the latter as his “most complete performance.” It’s the kind of artistic self-reflection that feels refreshingly honest in an era where every celebrity interview seems filtered through layers of PR polish.

His career stands as a testament to Hollywood’s evolving landscape — for every Pluto Nash misfire, there’s a Dolemite Is My Name triumph waiting in the wings. As streaming platforms continue reshaping the industry (looking at you, Netflix’s upcoming slate), Murphy’s ability to bounce between critical darlings and crowd-pleasers seems more relevant than ever.

And about those Razzie nominations, including that particularly stinging “worst actor of the decade” nod? Murphy’s response captures his enduring appeal perfectly: “Come on now, shit ain’t that bad.” In an industry that takes itself way too seriously sometimes, his ability to laugh at himself while standing firm on his creative choices feels like a breath of fresh air.

After all, in a world where every tweet becomes a headline and every film choice faces instant judgment, there’s something admirable about an artist who can own both the hits and the misses with equal parts humor and conviction. Now that’s what you call star power.

A haunting piece of surveillance footage from Sweida’s main hospital has laid bare the raw brutality of Syria’s endless humanitarian crisis. The video, released in mid-July by local news outlet Suwayda 24, shows what can only be described as a war crime unfolding in real time — the execution of a volunteer medical worker in what should have been a sanctuary of healing.

The scene plays out with devastating clarity. Medical staff, their only crime being devoted to saving lives, huddle against cold hospital walls as armed men in military fatigues patrol the sterile corridors. What happens next defies any pretense of humanity or international law.

A scuffle erupts. Someone resists. Gunshots shatter the relative quiet. Then — in a moment that seems pulled from humanity’s darkest chapters — the volunteer’s lifeless body is dragged away, leaving behind a crimson trail that no amount of hospital-grade disinfectant will truly erase.

“The incident occurred on July 16,” confirms a 30-year-old witness who appears in the footage. Speaking to AFP under condition of anonymity, their voice carries the weight of someone who knows that in today’s Syria, truth-telling often comes with a death sentence.

This isn’t happening in a vacuum. Sweida province has become a powder keg of sectarian tensions, with clashes between local Druze fighters and Bedouin tribes threatening to tear the region apart. While Syrian authorities spin tales of peacekeeping interventions, the reality on the ground tells a different story — one where government forces seem to be picking sides, specifically against the Druze minority.

Outside the hospital, a tank stands guard like some twisted metaphor for the militarization of civilian spaces. Inside, men in camouflage move with disturbing confidence, led by someone wearing the uniform of the “Internal Security Forces” — a detail that raises more questions than it answers about official involvement in this atrocity.

Mohammad al-Abdallah, who heads the Syria Justice and Accountability Centre, puts it bluntly: “UN investigators must enter Sweida immediately.” It’s a demand that carries particular weight as aid convoys face direct fire and the Druze community speaks increasingly of a siege mentality.

The UN Security Council has responded with their usual diplomatic choreography — expressing “deep concern” and condemning violence against civilians. But in a conflict where hospitals become battlegrounds and healers become targets, such carefully worded statements feel about as substantial as smoke.

The Syrian government’s response? Predictably murky. An unnamed official claims they “could not immediately identify the attackers” — as if the uniform of their own Internal Security Forces wasn’t clearly visible in the footage. They’re investigating whether the perpetrators were government personnel or tribal gunmen, though for the victim’s family, that distinction probably matters far less than it does to Damascus’s political strategists.

As 2025 unfolds, this latest atrocity adds yet another dark chapter to Syria’s ongoing narrative of suffering. The Syrian Arab Red Crescent reports damaged vehicles from recent attacks, while maintaining diplomatic silence about who’s pulling the triggers. Meanwhile, international calls for “an independent, impartial commission of inquiry” echo through blood-stained corridors, joining countless other unanswered pleas for justice in this seemingly endless conflict.

Watkins Glen served up the kind of weekend that reminds everyone why motorsport remains gloriously unpredictable. One moment you’re watching a celebration, the next your heart’s in your throat — and sometimes, like this past weekend, you get both within 24 hours.

The historic road course became center stage for a drama that unfolded in two distinct acts. Saturday’s script took a terrifying turn when Connor Zilisch’s victory celebration went horribly wrong. The 19-year-old hotshot, fresh off his sixth win of 2025, tumbled headfirst from his car in Victory Lane — his feet caught in the safety netting, leaving spectators stunned into silence. Thank heaven for quick-thinking medical staff; JR Motorsports later confirmed he was “awake and alert” during hospital transport, though those few moments of uncertainty felt like an eternity.

Racing, though? Racing doesn’t wait for anyone.

Sunday brought an entirely different flavor of drama, courtesy of NASCAR’s newest road course virtuoso, Shane van Gisbergen. The Kiwi didn’t just win — he absolutely demolished the field. That 11.116-second margin of victory? Second-largest in Glen history. Not too shabby for a rookie, eh?

“Good to get that one back,” van Gisbergen remarked afterward, probably thinking about last year’s final-lap heartbreak at this same track. His casual understatement barely hinted at the masterclass in driving everyone had just witnessed.

The numbers tell quite a story. Four consecutive road/street course wins puts him in some pretty elite company — think Chase Elliott and Jeff Gordon territory. And speaking of numbers, that’s his fourth win of 2025… as a rookie. Let that sink in for a moment.

Sunday’s race wasn’t just a victory — it was a clinic in precision driving. Van Gisbergen carved through the field with surgical precision, making veteran NASCAR drivers look like they were running their first road course. Christopher Bell and Chris Buescher put up a decent fight for second place, but honestly? They might as well have been in a different zip code.

The championship picture? Getting spicier by the week. William Byron’s stretched his lead to 42 points over teammate Chase Elliott, while Chris Buescher’s clinging to that final playoff spot — 34 points ahead of Ryan Preece. Not exactly comfortable breathing room with the regular season winding down.

Sometimes motorsport delivers perfect symmetry. This weekend at The Glen offered a stark reminder of racing’s dual nature — triumph and terror, often separated by mere moments. One driver’s celebration turns nightmare; another’s redemption story reaches new heights. That’s racing for you — beautiful, terrifying, and utterly unpredictable.

Funny how a single weekend can pack enough drama for an entire season, isn’t it?

Sophie Turner just reminded everyone why she earned that Queen in the North title, and it had nothing to do with dragons or iron thrones. The former Game of Thrones star found herself in a familiar position recently — defending her choices against critics who apparently missed the memo about modern parenting.

The drama unfolded after Turner posted some carefree snapshots from an Oasis concert, complete with bucket hats and what looked like a well-deserved beer. Pretty standard stuff for a 29-year-old at a British rock show, right? Well, not according to certain corners of the internet.

“LMFAO I think she has forgotten that she has two kids,” came the predictable mom-shaming comment. Turner’s response? Pure Sansa Stark energy — minus the medieval weaponry.

“Ah I’m so sorry sometimes I forget some people can’t think for themselves,” she wrote, before dropping the kind of truth bomb that shouldn’t need dropping in 2025: “So… Get this… There’s this crazy thing called shared custody. Maybe, just maybe, they were with their dad that day.”

The exchange highlights a frustratingly familiar double standard. While Turner catches flak for enjoying a single concert, her ex-husband Joe Jonas is currently zigzagging across the globe on the JONAS20: Living the Dream tour — all 52 dates of it. Funny how nobody’s asking where his kids are during those shows, eh?

This latest social media dustup comes on the heels of Turner’s raw and honest British Vogue interview, where she opened up about the emotional rollercoaster of her public divorce. “Those were the worst few days of my life,” she shared, touching on the universal experience of mom guilt that doesn’t discriminate between celebrities and regular folks.

The silver lining? Despite their initially rocky split (complete with the requisite custody battle headlines), Turner and Jonas seem to have found their co-parenting groove. Their daughters Willa, 4, and Delphine, 2, are clearly the priority for both parents. Jonas himself recently praised Turner as “an incredible mom” during a chat with Jay Shetty — proof that sometimes adults can actually act like… well, adults.

Perhaps the most unexpected plot twist in Turner’s post-divorce story has been the emergence of Taylor Swift as a key supporting character. Swift apparently provided “a home and a safe space” during Turner’s toughest moments — a detail that probably caused more than a few entertainment writers to check their calendars twice.

“The support I had from the women in my life during that time was the most amazing thing to see,” Turner reflected. “Taylor was an absolute hero to me this year.” (Who had that friendship on their 2025 bingo card?)

Look, here’s the thing about motherhood in the public eye — or motherhood anywhere, really. Having kids doesn’t mean pressing pause on being human. Sometimes being human means wearing a bucket hat and belting out “Wonderwall” at the top of your lungs. And yeah, sometimes it means having to remind people that fathers are parents too.

Turner’s clapback wasn’t just about defending her right to enjoy a concert. It was about pushing back against the tired notion that mothers should somehow exist in a perpetual state of visible caregiving. In an age where we’re supposedly more enlightened about gender roles and parenting dynamics, maybe it’s time we stopped clutching our pearls every time a mom dares to have a life beyond the nursery.

After all, if we’ve learned anything from Turner’s journey — both on screen and off — it’s that the most compelling characters are the ones who refuse to be confined by other people’s expectations.

Hollywood’s streaming landscape keeps evolving at breakneck speed, and August 2025 brings an intriguing mix of comebacks and curtain calls that’s got the entertainment world buzzing.

Remember that delightfully odd Farrelly Brothers gem “Stuck on You”? Well, darlings, Matt Damon’s 2003 conjoined-twin comedy is finding new life on Hulu starting August 14. The film — which earned a decent 62% on Rotten Tomatoes back in the day — showcases Damon at his most experimental, sharing screen space (quite literally) with Greg Kinnear. Between Cher playing an exaggerated version of herself and Meryl Streep’s scene-stealing cameo, it’s the kind of star-studded curiosity that deserves a second look.

Speaking of Damon… Word around Tinseltown suggests he’s about to tackle perhaps the most ambitious role of his career. Christopher Nolan’s upcoming adaptation of “The Odyssey” has assembled what can only be described as a dream team cast. Zendaya, Anne Hathaway, and Tom Holland are joining forces for this epic undertaking — and honey, that first trailer playing in theaters right now? Pure cinematic electricity.

Television’s been serving up its own share of drama lately. “Resident Alien” — that quirky little masterpiece that maintained an almost unheard-of 98% on Rotten Tomatoes — took its final bow on August 8. After four spectacular seasons, the farewell hit harder than expected. Alan Tudyk (who absolutely owned that role, let’s be honest) posted the sweetest goodbye on Threads: “It was a hell of a fun playground to play in. Laughter through the tears :))).”

But just as one otherworldly tale wraps up, another comes screaming into orbit. Noah Hawley’s “Alien: Earth” lands on FX and Hulu August 12, already boasting a rather impressive 90% on Rotten Tomatoes. The series brings those terrifying xenomorphs right to our doorstep — though not everyone’s thrilled about Hawley’s decision to break away from Ridley Scott’s recent prequel mythology. Still, early buzz suggests this bold new direction might be exactly what the franchise needs.

The entertainment world never stands still, does it? From streaming platforms playing musical chairs with content to beloved series taking their final bows, the industry keeps reinventing itself. Whether it’s forgotten comedies finding fresh audiences or iconic franchises being reimagined for modern times, Hollywood’s talent for surprising us remains gloriously intact. Now, if you’ll excuse me — these Louboutins aren’t going to walk themselves to the next screening.

Hollywood’s latest leading man is giving everyone whiplash — and for good reason. Jonathan Bailey’s meteoric rise from period drama heartthrob to blockbuster star has been nothing short of spectacular, though perhaps “meteoric” doesn’t quite capture the decade-plus of steady work that preceded his current moment in the spotlight.

The 37-year-old Brit first caught the public’s eye as the brooding Anthony Bridgerton, but these days he’s everywhere you look. Take “Wicked,” for instance. The hotly anticipated musical adaptation has been raking in both critical acclaim and box office gold, boasting an impressive 88% on the Tomatometer. Bailey’s Prince Fiyero (alongside powerhouses Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande) has audiences practically swooning in the aisles — reflected in that astronomical 95% audience score.

Then there’s “Jurassic World Rebirth.” Now here’s where things get interesting… Critics have been somewhat lukewarm, landing at 51%, while audiences are absolutely eating it up with a 71% approval rating. Those now-infamous “little glasses” Bailey sports as paleontologist Dr. Henry Loomis probably aren’t hurting matters. Who knew spectacles and dinosaurs could make such a compelling combination?

But let’s not forget his more serious endeavors. “Testament of Youth” showcases a different side of Bailey entirely. His turn as Geoffrey Thurlow in this WWI drama proves the man can do far more than charm his way through a scene. The film’s 84% critical rating speaks volumes, though interestingly enough, audiences came in slightly lower at 78% — a rare reversal of the usual pattern.

Looking back through Bailey’s filmography reveals something rather fascinating: a slow-burning career that’s been quietly building momentum since 2004’s “Five Children and It.” Sure, there were a few bumps along the way (“The Young Messiah” and its middling 50% rating comes to mind), but each role seems to have been carefully chosen, leading to his current status as Hollywood’s newest darling.

What’s particularly remarkable about Bailey’s trajectory is his ability to win over both critics and casual viewers alike. Those recent Critics’ Choice and Satellite Award wins for “Fellow Travellers” certainly didn’t hurt. And while that face of his could launch a thousand ships, it’s the depth of talent behind those famous specs that’s really turning heads in Tinseltown.

With roles spanning everything from biblical epics to dino-adventures to fantasy musicals, Bailey’s refusing to be boxed in. And speaking of musicals — “Wicked: For Good” is slated to hit theaters late next year, suggesting 2025 might be even bigger for this rising star. In an industry that often tries to pigeonhole its leading men, Bailey’s proving that versatility (and yes, those glasses) might just be the secret sauce for lasting success.

A Weekend of Transitions: From Soccer Stars to Global Diplomacy

The first weekend of March 2025 brought an intriguing mix of sporting drama and diplomatic developments — each telling its own story of change and adaptation in our rapidly evolving world.

Son Heung-min’s MLS debut for LAFC didn’t exactly follow the typical aging-star script. The South Korean dynamo — still looking remarkably spry at 33 — needed just 30 minutes to remind everyone why he’d terrorized Premier League defenses for nearly a decade. Coming off the bench with the score deadlocked at 1-1, Son’s explosive burst through Chicago Fire’s backline forced a penalty that ultimately secured a 2-2 draw for the visitors.

Sure, 20 touches and three shots might not sound revolutionary. But anyone watching at Toyota Park saw something different: a European star arriving not for a retirement tour, but with something left to prove. The way Son ghosted past defenders suggested this particular Premier League export hasn’t lost that extra gear that made him special.

Out West, a different sort of statement was being made on the hardwood. The Golden State Valkyries — probably tired of hearing about the Sparks’ recent hot streak — delivered a masterclass in depth and determination. Their 72-59 dismantling of Los Angeles wasn’t just about Veronica Burton’s 16 points or Cecilia Zandalasini’s sharp-shooting clinic in the first half. It was about championship DNA showing up when it mattered most.

The Sparks? Well, that nine-point second quarter pretty much tells the story. Even Dearica Hamby’s solid 15-point effort couldn’t salvage an offense that completely lost the plot during a brutal six-minute stretch in the fourth. Sometimes basketball really is that simple — you can’t win if you can’t score.

But perhaps the weekend’s most fascinating transition was happening thousands of miles away, along the world’s most heavily fortified border. North Korea’s decision to dismantle its propaganda loudspeakers — those iconic symbols of decades-long tension — feels different this time. Maybe it’s because it follows South Korea’s own speaker removal just last week, or perhaps it’s President Lee Jae Myung’s careful diplomatic choreography finally bearing fruit.

The South Korean military’s cautiously worded statement about “detected activities” speaks volumes about the delicate nature of this dance. After all, when you’re dealing with technically-still-warring nations, even the smallest gestures carry enormous weight.

These three narratives — a soccer star reinventing himself in America, a basketball powershift in the making, and a cautious step toward peace — might seem disconnected at first glance. But they’re all chapters in the same story: how competition, whether athletic or diplomatic, never really stays still. It evolves, adapts, and sometimes — just sometimes — surprises us with moments of unexpected grace.

Victory turned to horror at Watkins Glen International Saturday when NASCAR’s newest sensation, Connor Zilisch, took a frightening tumble during what should’ve been his moment of triumph. The 19-year-old phenom had just clinched his sixth NASCAR Xfinity Series win of 2025 when disaster struck in Victory Lane.

Racing’s time-honored tradition of climbing atop the winning car went horribly wrong. Zilisch — attempting to mount his No. 88 JR Motorsports Chevrolet for the customary celebration — lost his balance in a heart-stopping moment. One second he was reaching for the roof, the next he was plummeting headfirst toward the pavement, his feet caught in the safety netting like a cruel twist of fate.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Medical crews rushed to the motionless driver as team members and officials looked on in stunned disbelief. Though conscious and talking, the severity of the situation became clear as emergency personnel carefully secured Zilisch to a backboard. JR Motorsports later confirmed he was “awake and alert” while being transported to a local hospital for evaluation.

Talk about terrible timing. The young gun had qualified 25th for Sunday’s NASCAR Cup Series Go Bowling at The Glen, where he was set to challenge teammate Shane Van Gisbergen in what promised to be a fascinating rookie battle. Now that storyline’s been replaced by anxious waiting and “what-ifs.”

Lost in the post-race chaos was a stellar showing from the rest of the field. Sam Mayer, Sammy Smith, Austin Hill, and Carson Kvapil rounded out the top five — though nobody was much focused on the running order after Zilisch’s fall.

Perhaps it’s time for a hard look at victory celebrations in motorsport. Sure, they’re part of racing’s DNA — those iconic moments fans remember forever. But when triumph turns to tragedy this quickly… well, maybe some traditions need updating.

The whole thing serves as a brutal reminder of racing’s fickle nature. One moment you’re on top of the world (or trying to get on top of your car, anyway), the next you’re being loaded into an ambulance. As the NASCAR community holds its collective breath waiting for updates, Sunday’s Cup race at The Glen looms large — potentially minus one of its most intriguing storylines.

Funny how quickly things change in motorsport. Victory Lane to hospital ward in the blink of an eye. Here’s hoping Zilisch’s next celebration comes soon — and stays purely joyful this time around.

Wall Street’s newest market maverick isn’t a hedge fund titan or a seasoned trader — it’s a power couple from Capitol Hill whose investment success has left even the most experienced financial minds scratching their heads.

Nancy Pelosi and her husband Paul have quietly amassed a fortune exceeding $263 million, with their investment returns outpacing nearly every professional fund manager on Wall Street. Their portfolio’s staggering 720% return since May 2014 hasn’t just beaten the market — it’s absolutely demolished the S&P 500’s 238% gain over the same period.

The phenomenon has spawned an unexpected cottage industry: the “Pelosi traders.” These retail investors obsessively track and mirror the couple’s investment moves, hoping to catch lightning in a bottle. And who could blame them? When news broke about Nancy Pelosi’s stake in Tempus AI, the stock rocketed up 36% in a single day’s trading — the kind of move that makes day traders salivate.

Former President Trump, never one to hold back, recently took aim at their market-beating prowess. “How do these two very average minds beat all of the super geniuses on Wall Street?” he demanded. The question, though characteristically barbed, touches on a sentiment shared across the political spectrum.

Here’s where things get interesting — and perhaps a bit ironic. The former Speaker has thrown her weight behind legislation that would effectively end her family’s trading success story. The aptly named PELOSI Act (Preventing Elected Leaders from Owning Securities and Investments), championed by an unlikely alliance between Senators Josh Hawley and Kirsten Gillibrand, would bar lawmakers and their spouses from playing the market altogether.

Sure, the Pelosis have repeatedly swatted away accusations of insider trading. But let’s be real — when your trading returns make Warren Buffett look like an amateur, people are bound to ask questions. The timing of certain trades has raised more than a few eyebrows, though no formal charges have ever materialized.

For the legion of retail traders who’ve come to view Pelosi trade disclosures as their personal golden goose, the proposed legislation threatens to kill the proverbial golden egg-laying bird. It’s a classic Washington story — success breeds scrutiny, scrutiny breeds reform, and reform often closes the very loopholes that made the success possible in the first place.

The whole saga reads like a modern American fable about the messy intersection of political power and market profits. As Washington wrestles with these thorny questions heading into 2025, one thing’s crystal clear: the days of congressional trading might be numbered. And perhaps — just perhaps — that’s exactly as it should be.