The Jester, c.1519-20 by Marx Reichlich.
I hate Twitter.
I hate it so fucking much.
Never mind that it is a phenomenally effective instrument for propaganda, magnifying mass panics of all kinds, but it is also responsible for trends in collective philosophies. I want to talk about one of those trends, the newest form of the rampant je-m'en-foutisme to come crawling out of Twitter.
The way in which vague ideas about relatability, humor, and irony have melded together to create some new tone of sardonic detachment could only be possible under the social circumstances of Twitter. And this detachment, this laissez-faire-it’s-all-so droll-bemusement is not only contagious but aspirational, too, for it signals a new level to ascend to, a new way to be online and not care about it.
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