Honestly, if you were on Facebook around 2012, you couldn't escape him. You'd open your feed and there it was: a photo of a cat doing something ridiculous or a pun so bad it made you groan out loud. Right above it? That iconic name. George Takei.
Most people know him as Mr. Sulu from Star Trek. Others know him as a fierce advocate for LGBTQ+ rights. But for a massive chunk of the internet, he became the face of a brand—Oh Myyy!—that basically rewrote the rulebook on how celebrities exist online. It wasn't just a catchphrase. It was a literal media empire.
The Viral Architecture of Oh Myyy!
People think George just sat at a desk all day scrolling through Reddit to find memes. That’s the first big misconception. While the voice and the "Oh myyy!" spirit were authentically his, the operation was massive. We’re talking about a curated machine designed to keep millions of people clicking.
He didn't do it alone. Not even close.
Takei partnered with The Social Edge, an influencer agency led by Lorenzo Thione. They treated his Facebook page like a prime-time television slot. They realized early on that if you give people "sugar" (the memes, the puns, the Grumpy Cat photos), they’ll stick around for the "medicine" (the social justice, the history of Japanese internment camps, the political activism).
It worked. Boy, did it work.
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By 2012, Mashable was calling him the most influential person on Facebook. He had more engagement than most major news outlets. You've probably seen his husband, Brad Altman, mentioned in nearly every other post. Brad wasn't just the "manager, scheduler, and all-around essential guy" in their marriage; he was a core architect of the brand's daily output.
Why the "Oh My" Catchphrase Stuck
The phrase itself didn't even come from Star Trek. Not originally. It really gained its cultural legs during his time as the official announcer for The Howard Stern Show.
On Stern's show, Takei became a different person. He was raunchy. He was funny. He was incredibly open about his sex life and his relationship with Brad. Every time Stern said something shocking, George would drop that deep, melodic "Oh myyy!" and a meme was born.
It became a universal reaction. It was the "vibe" of the early 2010s.
The Business Behind the Puns
Here is the part most people don't realize: the Oh My George Takei brand was a pioneer in what we now call influencer marketing. Long before every teenager with a Ring light was doing "sponsored posts," Takei's team was striking deals with major publishers.
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- The Pay-to-Promote Model: Outlets like Mic, Slate, and Refinery29 paid to have their articles shared on his page.
- The Book Deals: He turned his social media wisdom into bestsellers like Oh Myyy! There Goes the Internet.
- The Activism Hook: He used his reach to fund the Broadway musical Allegiance, which told the story of his own family's experience in a U.S. internment camp during WWII.
It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, though. Around 2013, a comedy writer named Rick Polito admitted he was being paid $10 a joke to write some of the posts. The internet, being the internet, briefly tried to call him "George Fakei."
Takei's response? Basically: "Yeah, I have a team. I'm a busy guy."
He was transparent about the fact that he oversaw the content, but he wasn't a one-man meme factory. He was the Editor-in-Chief of his own life.
When the Empire Hit Turbulence
In late 2017, the brand faced its biggest test. Allegations of sexual assault from the 1980s surfaced. Takei denied them. However, the fallout was immediate in the business world.
Several of those "pay-to-promote" publishers pulled out. They didn't want their content associated with the controversy. It was a massive moment in internet history because it showed just how fragile these influencer ecosystems are. When you build a brand entirely on the "likability" of one person, any dent in that armor threatens the whole structure.
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Interestingly, the community didn't vanish. His core followers—the "Trekkies" and the social justice advocates—largely stayed. Why? Because the brand had spent years building a foundation of real-world advocacy that felt deeper than a single headline.
The "Oh My" Legacy Today
If you look at his presence now, it’s evolved. The era of the "viral Facebook meme" is mostly dead, replaced by TikTok's short-form chaos and Twitter's (now X's) constant yelling. But Takei is still there.
He’s moved into more serious territory, often using his platform to talk about the "Muslim registry" fears, civil rights, and the preservation of history. He’s less of a "meme lord" now and more of a digital elder statesman.
Actionable Takeaways from the Takei Playbook
If you’re trying to build a brand or just understand how the internet works, there are a few lessons here:
- The 80/20 Rule of Content: Give your audience 80% entertainment (the puns, the fun stuff) so they’ll listen to the 20% that actually matters to you (your mission, your product, your cause).
- Voice is Everything: Even with a team of seven people and comedy writers, the "Takei voice" remained consistent. It was always polite, slightly cheeky, and deeply human.
- Cross-Generational Appeal: He managed to bridge the gap between 70-year-old Star Trek fans and 19-year-old activists. That only happens when you’re willing to be a "hot guy" on Howard Stern one day and a serious historian the next.
George Takei basically proved that you don't have to be a tech genius to own the internet. You just have to be willing to laugh at yourself and keep showing up. Even if you're just sharing a picture of a cat in a box.