Issue 12: Pop culture reboots
And yes, even old milk can be used for something
I have a confession to make: I still drink regular milk. No, not by the glassful.
Cow milk is still an integral part of my diet: the stuff makes porridge/cereal a treat, my coffee texturally superior, my scrambled eggs oh-so-lighter. Plus, I have a fear-based belief that people like me need more calcium (which, is not so unfounded!).
I also happen to be in an age (mid-30s) and place (vegan-crazed Berlin) and era (wellness-obsessed! climate-crisis-conscious!) where regular milk is undergoing a bit of an image crisis. Which plant milk is best for the environment? we asked ourselves, while the plant alternatives are also accused of greenwashing.
What is accepted as hip is one tweet — or more likely, one viral TikTok — away from cultural evisceration. But somewhere, in a distant corner of the internet that *thing* could still be alive and well. Because what is pop culture anymore? It’s certainly not what’s trending on Facebook.
Yes, there’s TikTok but there’s no one true feed that everyone sees. All I can manage to see are cringey travel tips from influencers speaking directly into camera, nearly-explicit videos from reality TV stars eliminated early in their seasons and derpy cats failing or farting.
Trends are dead, says Vox, in a piece I can’t stop thinking about.
Instead, story-filled memes have filled the vacuum. I cannot turn a corner without seeing something about Ye and antisemitism; Elon Musk’s latest drama; and the Spice Girls partying to well, a Spice Girls song. These stories are rhymes of past cultural currency; Ye is hardly the first famous person to show their bigotry; Musk is not the first person to publicly misrun a company; Ginger, et. al are not the first to dance to their own music.
But what is different this time is the modern fragmentation in the discussion and the proliferation of the images, stories and sounds around these stories.
With the mess surrounding Twitter, and the slow trash fire that has enveloped Instagram, I’ve begun to mess around with communities like Discord and getting more active in open Slack groups.
Some of these groups are professional; some of them are for fun, and others straddle the line. And inevitably, all of these groups end up talking about the same things — celebrities doing silly things; bad TV; useful recipes; advice for weird work/home situations, all at an alarmingly fast, passive stream that feels overwhelming and comfortable all at once.
I don’t know whether to be scared, bored, or nostalgic for the old days of Twitter, which helped me get jobs, find a husband, and learn from titans of industry without needing to watch inane videos or purchase a puke-inducing headset.
The new online reality feels like MySpace. Like Tumblr. Like AIM. All at once, asynchronous and amped up in dark mode, with more options for animated reactions and with a slicker approach: some of these new online communities aren’t just fans gathering on Web 1.0. They’re corporations and ex-startup people who want to build profitable Commercial Communities™.
At the same time, you’re seeing older critique around these constructs being reshared, like this viral tweet. I keep seeing snippets of this panel featuring Bo Burnham (yes, the singing comedian) explaining how and why our modern online interactions are harming kids. The whole panel is a worthy watch, especially for parents.
Sadly, the system won’t stop even if the current channels and platforms change, shutter or continue to fragment. There will only be more competition for eyeballs and attention. People will mine old ways of the internet, and ancient storylines of humanity, to engage and earn.
Who will win, in this next era for platform dominance? Who or what will be the heroes, the villains, the underdogs, the challengers? And, how fast will the sets, the winners, the losers and the culture change? And what kinds of questions will we ask about these platforms as we rebuild the online town square?
The landscape will change faster than I can use up a carton of milk. And when that happens to you too - don’t through out the sour stuff. Make a savory clafoutis, which can turn that smelly stuff into something cozy — here’s proof!
After all, everyone loves a comeback. Especially when there are carbs involved.
Thanks for reading, all! And, yes I too am capable of comebacks. I apologize for the months-long hiatus. I traveled, I got COVID, I switched jobs and launched a freelance business.
As always, reply back to this email with any feedback, questions, pitches/requests for next newsletter, guest ideas, anything!