Vol. LXXV · No. 1 Promotional Edition May 14, 2026 · $0.75

The Phil-Yorker

A periodical of dubious circulation, prepared in honor of seventy-five nautical years.

Annals of Physics

The Quantum State of Phil

At any given moment, Phil exists in a superposition of states. The act of observation, as Heisenberg argued and Mackie has independently confirmed, collapses the wave function. Press the button.

trimming Navasana's mainsheet
cursing the Whaler's spark plug
reading The New Yorker, Mackie underfoot
walking Brad, bagging his contribution
eating greens, all of them, every last one
making Mom breakfast (eggs, probably)
reading in the sunroom, light slanting through
explaining the impeller to someone who didn't ask

wave function uncollapsed · all states present

Department of Recreation

Don't Let the Whaler Die

A maritime simulation in one button. The 2008 Boston Whaler 15′ runs on a primer bulb, hope, and the periodic application of WD-40. Pump the bulb. Clear the pots. Cover the distance.

0.00 NM PRESS SPACE BEST · 0.00 NM
SPACE or TAP to pump primer bulb Avoid pots · catch a spark plug · don't flood it

Comparative Chronology

Things Older / Younger Than Phil

A rigorous accounting. All items dated to the best of the editor's ability. For the purposes of this exercise, Phil is fixed at 1951.

Younger ↓ post-1951
    Older ↑ pre-1951

      Department of Maritime Confessions

      Confessions of the Outboard

      A diary, kept reluctantly, by the 2008 70-horsepower outboard. Submitted in lieu of testimony.

      CONFIDENTIAL
      FILE — IMPELLER
      Day 6,247 · Morning

      Started on the third pull. He looked surprised. He always looks surprised.

      Day 6,512

      Impeller change #27. He took photographs of the worn vanes. I cannot fathom why. He whistles when he works. The dogs supervise.

      Day 6,891 · Threatening sky

      Storm forecast. He is pretending to check the bilge. He is reading the New Yorker. I will be loaded onto the trailer in three minutes and we will pretend this never happened.

      Day 7,001

      Mackie barked at me. I declined to start, in protest. He fixed it in eleven minutes. The dog took credit.

      Day 7,142

      He explained me to a stranger at the dock. The stranger nodded politely. I have never been more embarrassed in my life.

      Day 7,300 · Bright, calm

      New spark plug. Bronze. Excessive, in my opinion. He insisted. I forgive him.

      Day 7,400

      Greens for breakfast. Greens for lunch. Brad watches with a kind of mournful respect. Mackie has gone to bed.

      Day 7,512

      Mom said no Whaler today. There is no Whaler today.

      Day 7,604

      Quantum mechanics, again, at breakfast. Brad understands more than he lets on. I am, on principle, classical.

      Day 7,889 · Today

      Seventy-five years. He pulled the cord. I started. We are, against all reasonable expectation, still in this together.

      — The Outboard

      Department of Confectionery

      Seventy-five Candles

      An ambitious arrangement. Frosting by Mom. Click any candle to blow it out, or use the microphone if you're feeling theatrical. The committee will know if you cheat.

      75

      75 candles · ready to wish