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The internet was supposed to make us smarter. That was the pitch. A glowing digital Library of Alexandria. A place where the sum total of human knowledge would be available to anyone with a keyboard, a pulse, and a vaguely functional modem. Information would flow freely. Barriers would fall. Minds would open. Democracy would flourish. People would finally read past the headline. Instead, we invented comment sections. The internet didn’t just connect the world. It connected every thought anyone ever had, whether or not that thought had been stress-tested by logic, experience, or basic self-awareness. It took humanity’s internal monologue, stripped out the filter, amplified it, monetized it, and then optimized it for maximum emotional reaction. And here we are. From Dial-Up Dreams to Algorithmic Doomscrolling Early internet culture had hope baked into it. You could feel it in the clunky interfaces and blinking GIFs. The web was slow, ugly, and deeply optimistic. It sounded like a r...

I. Welcome to the Digital Circus, Folks Let’s talk about the Supreme Court. Not the marble columns, not the spooky portraits of dead people who never smiled, not even the clerks who walk around like caffeinated penguins with law degrees. No, no — let’s talk about what they’re doing this week : deciding whether your internet provider should be held personally responsible because you downloaded one too many nostalgic pop songs at 2 a.m. when the loneliness hits and the algorithm recommends something embarrassingly specific. The case goes like this: A bunch of music labels — the kind that haven’t had an original idea since CDs were cutting-edge — are suing Cox Communications because its customers downloaded stuff illegally. Sony and their friends say Cox is liable. Cox says, “What, us? We didn't pirate anything! WE DON’T EVEN KNOW THESE PEOPLE.” And the Supreme Court, those wise sages who struggle to define what a “website” is during oral arguments, now has to figure out who’s re...

1. The Ghost in the Wi-Fi Machine Alexis Ohanian helped build Reddit — the world’s largest shrine to both brilliance and degeneracy — and now he says “much of the internet is dead.” That’s like Frankenstein looking at his monster and going, “Yeah, maybe I over-did it with the lightning.” Ohanian’s diagnosis isn’t wrong, though. Scroll long enough and you’ll notice: every meme, every quote, every “deep thought” seems like it was stitched together by a robot that learned English by reading bathroom graffiti and LinkedIn posts. The digital soul has been replaced by something “quasi-AI.” Translation: we’re not sure if it’s human, but it sure does sound confident about its “personal growth journey.” It’s the same vibe as hearing a stranger say “I just love authentic connection” — you instinctively check for a sponsor tag. 2. The Dead Internet Theory: Not a Theory, a Documentary “Dead internet theory” used to sound like conspiracy-forum nonsense — the idea that bots outnumber humans ...

The insult was meant for machines. The fallout landed squarely on humans. Introduction: The Rise of the “Clanker” Every few years, the internet coughs up a brand-new insult, often by accident, and then hurls it around with the manic glee of a middle school dodgeball game. In 2025, that insult is “clanker.” Borrowed from Star Wars: The Clone Wars , where clone troopers used it as a derogatory nickname for battle droids, the word has escaped its sci-fi origins and now roams the internet freely, usually aimed at ChatGPT and other A.I. chatbots. At first glance, this is almost adorable. People are so committed to hating machines that they’ve invented a schoolyard taunt for them. Never mind that machines don’t get offended. Never mind that calling ChatGPT a “clanker” is roughly as effective as screaming “loser” at your Roomba. The insult ricocheted around the internet anyway, building momentum like a digital snowball rolling downhill. But the story didn’t stop with the bots. Very quick...

Welcome to the Internet’s Messy Garage Sale Picture this: the Internet’s media stack is basically your uncle’s garage. Over in the corner, you’ve got an old RTMP bike frame that nobody rides anymore, leaning against a busted HLS lawnmower, while DASH is just sitting there, rusting, and WebRTC is duct-taped to a random car engine like some Frankenstein monster project. For two decades, we’ve been “solving” problems by just slapping protocols together like mismatched IKEA furniture. Streaming engineers have been like, “Oh, you want scale? Here, have HLS. You want low latency? That’ll be WebRTC. You want complexity so bad you’ll age 10 years just trying to debug it? Congratulations, you’ve already got all three.” Now Cloudflare swoops in on August 22, 2025, shouting: “We’ve got MoQ—Media over QUIC—the Marie Kondo of Internet protocols! It sparks joy AND maybe won’t make you cry blood when trying to stream a live auction.” Spoiler: this is less about joy and more about “finally cleanin...

By Someone Who’s Threatened to Cancel More Times Than They’ve Threatened to Go to the Gym Let’s play a game. It’s called: “Who Has Two Thumbs and Is Tired of Being Gaslit by Their Internet Provider?” Answer: You. Me. Literally everyone still stuck with Comcast or Spectrum in this twilight-zone year of 2025, where cable companies are somehow still surprised that people prefer faster internet and lower bills. Who knew, right? But now—now!—you hold the cards. After decades of suffering through mysterious fees, dead-eyed customer service reps, and data caps that belong in the Museum of Internet Mistakes, the tide has turned. And all you have to do is utter seven magic words: “I’m thinking about canceling my service.” That’s it. That’s the spell. That’s the summoning ritual for the Retention Gods to descend upon your call, panic in their voice, eager to keep you on the roster before you flee to fiber or 5G paradise. Welcome to the golden era of passive-aggressive negotiating. Let...