What Internet Makes You Happy?

The post-social media world can be good

My time online has gone down dramatically over the last year. Part of it is because I made a conscious decision to put my phone down as much as possible when I’m hanging out with the baby, but Elon Musk taking Twitter and turning it into his own Dearborn Independent also helped me realize I don’t need to scroll for hours just waiting for something to happen. Yes, I’ve been happier, and my mind isn’t clouded with the sound of a million takes. If I hear somebody posted something dumb on social media, I no longer feel the need to watch or join the pig pile of people telling that person how terrible they are for saying something that probably wasn’t that bad to begin with. It’s more, “Oh, cool,” and I move onto the next topic.

Social media, according to one of the people who made it a part of our everyday lives, is dead. I don’t disagree, and it couldn’t come at a better time. Even before the pandemic forced us all inside, all the different avenues to consume content were taking us off the normal path we humans need to go down in order to be healthy and happy. We’re social creatures, and I know people love to talk about how introverted they might be, but everybody needs people. We need to interact with other humans the way we need to get exercise or eat right, and replying to something on Meta doesn’t count.

Still, after being terminally online for over 15 years, there is something in my little brain that tells me I need to see what people are talking about. X isn’t on my phone and I deleted Facebook a few years ago; Instagram, Substack, Bluesky, and Threads are the only social media apps I have on my phone. I only get any real enjoyment out of two of those. Despite being part of the Zuckerberg empire, I actually like going on Instagram. I think the mens style content I look at is decent, and I’ve weeded out as much stupid freakish food content, so no videos of people making hot dog smoothies or some robot-voiced video telling me about a place serving tacos inside croissants show up in my feed. I’m fine with people posting about news or politics, but if somebody is really heavy-handed on the colorful political memes like “HERE’S WHAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ABOUT DONALD TRUMP’S WAR ON THE PENCIL ERASER INDUSTRY” or a picture of some article with a head floating over it screaming at me about how “PIGEONS ARE ACTUALLY ALL NEURODIVERGENT AND THEY’RE VICTIMS OF COLONIALIZATION THAT’S ALL YOUR FAULT,” then I’m likely going to mute them. Instagram, I’ve decided, is my fun space. Substack, well, I’m writing to you using it, so obviously I also like that one. I wish the feed on the home tab was a little more up to date, and I do get some corny stuff in there from time to time, but I generally enjoy it.

But what about the social media that was hailed as the replacements to Twitter? Threads is a wreck. It’s chaos. It makes me think anarchy isn’t as fun as it may sound. I get almost absolutely nothing out of it, so I tend to check it maybe once a week. Bluesky, meanwhile, is maybe the most humorless place on the entire Internet. I know there are people who will argue that’s what you get when you create a platform that caters largely to one side of the political spectrum, and maybe that’s true, but there’s just not even anything weird or off-beat on there. It’s just a lot of people telling you you’re wrong or doing blatant clout chasing by saying the most basic things imaginable. I like the people I follow, and I get stuff out of it, but I’ve also muted at least 200 strangers who annoyed me on there. I just don’t have time for anybody who doesn’t have an avatar or whose profile is a bunch of hashtags. Bluesky feels too middle-aged for my middle-aged ass, and going on there often feels like a chore. I’m still hopeful, but hope is running low.

This all has me thinking about what sort of stuff on the Internet actually brings me any joy. Most of it, I’ll say, is on Instagram. Sometimes I’ll check it once more before I put my phone down for the night and Taylorlorenz3.0 is at the top of my Insta feed, full of screenshots of the sort of posts I want to see more of. Random Reddit threads, but usually only ones I stumble upon and get absolutely sucked into because the conversation goes from a simple question to a thousand batshit insane replies. Jack White’s Insta, but almost exclusively when it’s a post of him at a baseball game, is fun. I like falling down old beer commercial wormholes on YouTube, and love finding websites that haven’t been updated since the aughts. The only Internet I truly enjoy anymore isn’t the type where I’m engaging; it’s the mindless fun stuff. I still consume most of my news on here, but that feels more like a one-way transaction. I spend a lot of time on my laptop, but I’m doing more typing and not using my mousepad to go up and down a timeline. I’ve essentially tried to use my online time for learning and for having fun without the side of blood pressure raising because I worry somebody didn’t get I was being sarcastic in whatever I posted. I just don’t have the time or mental energy to spend on that sort of stuff anymore.

What do I have time for? I read this stuff today and liked it:

• I won’t even call the New York Post my guilty pleasure, but I know some people are surprised when I tell them I usually buy a copy of Rupert Murdoch’s rag at the bodega every morning, so it was nice to read Vinson Cunningham on why he also can’t get enough of “New York’s most dastardly, least self-conscious daily newspaper” for the New Yorker. Read it here.

• Also in the New Yorker, Lena Dunham writes a “Goodbye to All That” essay and mentions Joan Didion’s “Goodbye to All That” essay. Read it here.

• Brock Colyar continues to be one of my favorite writers who is always finding new ways to explain the New York City of now. Their latest is on the new crop of young women living the NYC dream life in the West Village. Read it here.