WHO GIVES A SHIT? by Grace Graham-Taylor

Poe’s Law is an unofficial law of the internet which essentially states that, without marking one’s statement online as sarcastic or false, there is no way that it can be properly distinguished from true statements, or those of trolls. The law is named after Nathaniel Poe, a contributor to the Christian message board ‘christianforum.com’, who took part in a discussion on creationism in 2005. After some members of the discussion expressed the worry that they were being trolled, Poe musingly commented that, ‘Without a winking smiley or other blatant display of humour, it is utterly impossible to parody a Creationist in such a way that someone won’t mistake it for the genuine article’. In other words, on the internet, it is impossible to distinguish fake stupid from real stupid.

The question then becomes, do we take everything seriously, or nothing at all? Shitposting is an irony-drenched brand of internet humour which usually involves a user, or troll, responding to something posted online with something entirely unrelated (often a meme) to derail the conversation. Since its conception, this seemingly harmless humour has become a weapon of the alt-right. Under the guise of ‘lulz’, real political agendas are being disrupted, and it’s getting harder and harder to tell who’s in on the joke. QAnon, the latest half-baked conspiracy-turned-ideology to escape from the confines of the internet, a theory which claims Satan worshippers run the government and plotted against Donald Trump, has now become a legitimate political force. It seems like the line between satire and reality has officially collapsed, and we have to live with the consequences. That said, shitposting isn’t always bad. It’s ubiquitous on the internet, and most of it is innocuous and benign. Sometimes the joke can get out of hand, such as the ‘Storm Area 51’ debacle of 2017, but, ultimately, the goal is to entertain. The word itself is hard to define, primarily because it’s a self-descriptor, but journalist Jessica Lindsay aptly describes it as: ‘nothing of value. It is the online equivalent of shooting tin cans with a spud gun in a patch of wasteland. It’s repeating what the person you’re with says in a stupid voice until they give up and go home’.

However, shitposting can also be a subversive and meaningful way to express discontent with prestigious individuals, corporations and establishments, by making a mockery of their attempts at co-option. When Mountain Dew attempted to crowdsource a name for their new flavour of soda in 2017, they quickly found their website hijacked by shitposting trolls. In punishment for this, ahem, brandloyalty-building-campaign-posing-asdemocracy, frontrunning names ended up being ‘Diabeetus’ and ‘Moist Nugget’ (also, more disturbingly, and more in line with my previous alt-right observations, the name ‘Hitler did nothing wrong’). Irony like this is why shitposting has been compared to the ethos of Dada. Emerging from a profound disgust with the world, Dadaists created absurd, disruptive works that reflected the alienation and madness of 1910s and ‘20s post-war Europe. As in the era of the Dadaists, within our own era, sentiments of confusion, alienation and disillusionment are rife towards traditional bodies of authority (such as politicians), the widespread commercialisation of culture, and skyrocketing income inequality in many advanced economies. Or as Nobel-peace prize winning economist Sir Angus Deaton puts it, ‘There is this feeling that contemporary capitalism is not working for everybody’.

In the face of a bleak reality, shitposting seems like a natural response to how darkly ridiculous the world has become. However, the absurdity of the world is in part informed by the absurdities of the internet: real life and digital life operate in a feedback loop, informing and reinforcing each other. By investing ourselves in an online culture of irony, we are ostensibly losing the ability to distinguish between what’s serious and what’s not in real life. Due to this, genuine bigotry can parade itself as comedy and the ambiguities of ironic humour can function as the alt-right’s mask for their extremist views. By burying their messages in memes and absurdist humour, white supremacists and far-right extremists have been able to spread their ideologies, and normalise otherwiseunthinkable behaviour, all while claiming it’s a joke.

In the face of a bleak reality, shitposting seems like a natural response to how darkly ridiculous the world has become 18

Genuine bigotry can parade itself as comedy and the ambiguities of ironic humour can function as the alt-right’s mask for their extremist views

19 One example is the New Zealand Christchurch shooter, who opened fire on two mosques in 2019, killing 49 people. The shooter left behind a manifesto, replete with memes and insider references, which he posted on the infamous 4Chan board, /pol/ (politics), before the attack. The manifesto begins: ‘it’s time to stop shitposting and make a real life effort post’. All of this, it has been argued, was designed to distract and confuse mainstream journalists, whilst also forcing them to unintentionally ‘repost’ these memes in their coverage of the attack, sending a message to fellow extremists. As Matt Goerzen claims in ‘Notes Toward the Memes of Production’, the extreme right has seized the memes of production and is now utilising them to spread their message, radicalising more people in the process. Where does this leave us, then, with regards to posting meaningless shit on the internet? It’s becoming increasingly obvious that shitposts – especially those perpetuated by the alt-right – can and do have serious political consequences. This is partly because, despite their inanity, shitposts do serve a meaningful expressive function: through ironic, exaggerated humour, emotional truths can emerge that would otherwise be too difficult to express straight. But, often, it’s ultimately the sentiment of the shitpost, and not its content, which resonates with people. The sheer amount of people drawn to the alt-right’s conspiracy theories is a stark reminder of the posttruth future we’re heading towards, or perhaps already living in. The alt-right sows the seeds of distrust in the media and the language of political elites by exploiting the pre-existing sentiment that these organisations are not working for the everyday individual, for you. After the seeds are sewn, the alt-right offers an alternative theory, one which validates this sentiment. Ultimately, this problem extends far beyond the internet, and will require a great deal of collective soul-searching to fix. Perhaps, just perhaps, a good place to start is with more open and honest communication.

The sheer amount of people drawn to the alt-right’s conspiracy theories is a stark reminder of the posttruth future we’re heading towards, or perhaps already living in

WORDS Grace Graham-Taylor (she/her)

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TRIPLE X

Direction: Daniel Castro (he/him), Lara Delmage (she/her), Graham Peacock (he/him) Photography: Samuel Mitchell (he/him) Designer: Oliver FJ Jones Studio Models: Latex (she/they), Jack Patton (they/them)

The editorial project for GUM’s summer issue is titled TRIPLE X. The title refers to the censorship and erasure of queer bodies in the mainstream, and serves to make brazenly visible those who society would like to make unseen. In this vein, the UNKNOWN editorial photoshoot showcases the talents of queer, Glasgow based creatives which is manifested in a series of intense portraits. Fundamentally transgressive of established social norms, this project captures forms of self-expression which embrace the realm of divergent sexuality and gender. By platforming artists whose work and identities are at odds with entrenched yet outdated ideals, TRIPLE X is a reclamation of power by those who have long been condemned as outsiders.