I become increasingly depressed each time I log into Facebook. The platform feels like a miserable book of contacts, bursting at the seams with second rate memes stolen from better websites. Worse, I’m forced to regularly polish my Facebook account to a mirror sheen. Potential employers might use the information against me in this nightmarish dystopia we live in. Tumblr, on the other hand, just gets better and better each time I use it, and there’s a good reason for that. I could tell you where I grew up, what my favorite food is; but in the end I’m mostly defined by the two interests Tumblr caters to. I have a fondness for pretentious art, and a love for dank memes.
At this point in my cynical youth, the word “pretentious” has become synonymous with “having something to say.” I felt like I owed it to myself to take a class on the interpretation and criticism of media, seeing as I’m determined to spend every second of my free time consuming it. As someone who’s hypercritical and hell-bent on sucking the fun out of everything, I’m also hoping to gain a new appreciation for works that haven’t intrigued me in the past. Maybe I’ll even come to realize that Netflix’s critically acclaimed Stranger Things isn’t the hot mess I think it is.
Most people don’t know that I’m a member of 4chan Meme Operations. Our organization aims to fill the internet with a menagerie of rare Pepes. For those of you who don’t know, Pepe the Frog appeared as part of an online webcomic by Matt Furie in 2005. Since then, gremlins like myself have used the simple character design as a medium for self expression.
On a less horrific level, I’m just a computer science major here at Trinity with a little too little time on my hands. I love books, especially when they include elements of surrealism and mystery. I love ice cream, and camping, and kicking back with friends. But without the memes, I’d be left feeling like Jackie Chan in his cult classic from 1998.