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Writer's pictureTrig50ish

Day Three Hundred and Ten - brain rot

I've been a refugee from social media since its inception. Never had a Facebook account that I shared with anyone and never used it. Haven't been on X, Instagram, Snapchat etc. Basically been shielded from what 90% of the world has been doing for the last decade and a half.


Until now.


Instagram is like a non-stop version of the Clive James show. Back in the late eighties and early nineties, the Australian raconteur Clive James used to host a short programme highlighting bizarre videos from around the world. He'd add amusing commentary and then the half hour would end and your life would continue.


But with Instagram, the half hour never ends. And once you've seen one set of shockingly weird things, you quickly become immune to the next set unless they've got something distinctive that makes you stop. And it has to be super weird to get the same high you had from the very first time you interacted with it.


I'll admit, I'm hooked. I love looking at AI versions of Asiatic children standing next to a man in a gimp suit who's stomach emerges and turns into a pig. Who wouldn't love that?


Really? Is it just me? Oh.

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