Icons of Dysfunction – The Brands That Raised Me, Ghosted Me, and Now Charge for Premium Access
Over the past two days, we’ve scrolled through the unholy terrain of social media madness—starting with Reddit and Twitter/X, where emotional validation is crowdsourced and sarcasm is the native tongue. Then came Instagram and TikTok, where your self-worth is filtered through ring lights, sticker packs, and product hauls that may or may not be FDA-approved.
And now, we arrive at the elders—the platforms that didn’t just survive the digital evolution, they helped cause it.
Today’s platforms aren’t trying to reinvent the wheel. They are the wheel. Square. Glitchy. Loud. But somehow still spinning.
Facebook
Flavor of Cognitive Dissonance: Nostalgic Paranoia Baked into a Casserole of Conspiracy
Facebook is like going back to your hometown and realizing everyone you knew in high school has either started a pyramid scheme, joined a cult, or thinks Bill Gates lives in their toaster.
Once upon a time, it was about poking friends and writing “lol” on their wall. Now? It’s a multigenerational buffet of unfiltered oversharing, political landmines, and passive-aggressive prayer requests. And don’t even get me started on the minion memes.
Facebook’s dissonance is special. It’s “I’m sharing this because I care” layered over “That article was debunked six years ago and also links to malware.”
It’s where people will post anti-vax conspiracy theories in the morning and then tag themselves at Walgreens getting a flu shot that afternoon.
It’s where someone will comment “sending love!” under a tragic post, and then five seconds later share a rage-fueled screed about how millennials ruined the housing market because they buy avocado toast and refuse to work 70-hour weeks for dental coverage.
It’s grandma posting selfies with motivational quotes about self-worth… while casually reposting disinformation from a Facebook group called “TRUTH BOMBS & CROCHET.”
And let’s not forget the emotional whiplash of the feed itself:
- Post #1: “Just got engaged!”
- Post #2: “RIP Grandpa.”
- Post #3: “What Disney villain are you? I got Ursula.”
- Post #4: “If you don’t love America, feel free to leave.”
- Post #5: A casserole recipe that slaps so hard you almost forget you were rage-scrolling.
And how could we forget… the clickbait graveyard that is modern Facebook.
No current news. No reliable sourcing. Just a scrollable junk drawer of half-loaded headlines, blurry screenshots of conspiracy blogs, and links to websites that haven’t been updated since Obama’s first term.
Sometimes it’s not even a link. Just a JPEG of a headline from a site that doesn’t exist, cropped like someone took a chainsaw to context, and posted with a caption like:
“SHARE IF YOU’RE NOT A SHEEP.”
And people do. They share it. Like it’s gospel.
No one asks questions. No one clicks anything. Mostly because…plot twist…you can’t. It’s not real. It’s the mirage of information. A hallucination in .png form.
And when you do find an actual clickable article? Oh honey, it takes you on a journey.
To some site called “LibertyUnicorns.biz,” where 37 pop-ups assault you, autoplay audio screams “PATRIOT ALERT,” and the article itself was written by someone who appears to be both angry and held at gunpoint by a thesaurus.
This is the kind of environment where satire and sincerity bleed into each other until no one can tell if something is a joke…or just your uncle’s new belief system.
Facebook clickbait is the final boss of dissonance.
It’s not just misinformation…it’s anti-information, designed to look like knowledge while actually extracting brain cells through your eyeballs.
It’s “Share this to spread the word”
when the “word” is literally made of pixels and desperation.
Facebook is the Golden Corral of the internet…bloated, confusing, oddly comforting, and slightly dangerous if consumed for too long.
It’s not just cognitive dissonance…it’s cognitive bingo. And somehow… you always lose.
Platform #6: LinkedIn : business-casual Twilight Zone
Flavor of Cognitive Dissonance: Gluten-Free Thought Leadership Drizzled in Corporate Kool-Aid
Ah, LinkedIn…the only place on the internet where scam recruiters, paywalls, and motivational TED Talk cosplay all hold hands and sing “Kumbaya” in your notifications.
Let’s start with the job “opportunities.”
You get a message that says:
“Hi [your name], we think you’d be a great fit for this role!”
It’s in a city you don’t live in.
In a field you’ve never worked in.
At a company whose logo looks like it was designed on a graphing calculator in 1997.
They’re not even subtle anymore. It’s like a phishing scam in a suit.
And somehow…somehow…it’s sponsored.
Like, thanks, LinkedIn. I didn’t realize I needed to pay for the privilege of being conned.
And speaking of paying…let’s talk about LinkedIn Premium.
For the low, low price of $29.99/month, you too can… see who ghosted your profile.
You won’t get better offers. You won’t get meaningful connections.
But you will get a gold badge next to your name that screams,
“I was desperate enough to believe this would change my life.”
But here’s where it gets truly unhinged:
LinkedIn has become a full-on blog cult.
People dropping 1500-word essays on “grit,” “resilience,” and the time they learned leadership from watching a pigeon at a bus stop.
And the comments?
A flood of emoji-laden echo praise like:
“So inspiring.” “Love this!” “Amazing insight, Brent.”
Even if Brent’s post was just a corporate word salad tossed with buzzwords and dressing made of vague.
It’s not a network anymore.
It’s a mutual admiration society, where everyone’s trying to out-authentic each other while pretending they’re not job-hunting through a fog of soul erosion. Where professionalism goes to LARP and self-congratulation is a competitive sport.
Cognitive dissonance here looks like:
“Let’s be real.”
(While carefully curating every single syllable for personal brand optics.)
It’s an ecosystem powered by false depth, fake gratitude, and hustle culture FOMO.
And if you actually try to connect with someone? Pay up. And hope their inbox isn’t already drowning in 10,000 “Hey there! Loved your post on synergy!” messages.
LinkedIn is the office breakroom of the internet…if the coffee was made of self-promotion and the air smelled like burnout and buzzwords.
Platform #7: YouTube
Flavor of Cognitive Dissonance: Enlightenment & Existential Crisis in 1080p
YouTube is that rare unicorn in the social media zoo: it never really changed, it just… expanded. Like the universe. Or your For You feed at 2 a.m. when you’ve been watching videos about quantum physics, trauma bonding, and how to make birria tacos…all in the same hour.
You want to learn something? YouTube’s got it.
Need to fix your washing machine? Boom.
Want a 40-minute video essay on the hidden symbolism in Shrek 2? Done.
Curious how many energy drinks it takes for a man to see God? There’s a channel for that too.
But stay too long, and you start to feel the disassociation kick in.
You click on “How to organize your life,” and five videos later you’re watching a guy in a bunker explain why birds aren’t real…with a chalkboard and sincerity that makes you almost believe it.
And let’s talk about YouTube Kids.
In theory: adorable, educational, safe.
In practice? Some of those videos feel like they were created by AI trained on sugar, noise, and emotional neglect.
You’ve got kids reviewing toys in full makeup, asking you to like and subscribe before they can form full sentences. It’s tiny influencers raised in the algorithmic wild, and some of it gives off serious “please blink twice if you’re okay” energy.
But YouTube hasn’t changed much because it didn’t need to…it started in the deep end. It just lets the algorithm decide if you’ll learn a new skill or slowly lose grip on reality.
Platform #8: Myspace
Flavor of Cognitive Dissonance: Abandoned Cool With Notes of Digital Taxidermy
Ah, Myspace.
The skeleton in the internet’s closet. The ancient ruin where glitter GIFs, Top 8 drama, and emo song auto-play once reigned supreme.
You logged in. You actually found your old account.
What’s there? A profile pic that looks like it came from a webcam with depression, a status that says “bored lol,” and the vague scent of 2007’s collective heartbreak.
Now it’s trying to be… what? A music platform? A nostalgia mirage?
Nobody knows. Myspace is like that ex who went on a spiritual retreat, changed their name to “SoundOracle,” and now only communicates via ambient playlists and glitch art.
There’s still something happening there, probably.
But whatever culture is still lingering feels like an abandoned mall that’s been repurposed into a rave for ghosts.
The people still logged in? They’ve seen things. They remember Tom.
They are the last digital shamans.
And honestly, we’re a little afraid to disturb them.
Still here? Impressive. You’ve survived Minion memes, motivational trauma posts, and YouTube-induced dissociation. Come back tomorrow for the final showdown: a quiz you didn’t ask for, a cry for help in bold text, and one last round of social media whiplash.”
#BlessTheAlgorithm
Tomorrow, it all comes together. A quiz. A meltdown. Some fake sponsors. And one final cry for help (with hyperlinks).
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