The Anachronistic Internet: When Cat Videos Actually Mattered
Summary: A late-night, sleep-deprived rant about how the internet used to work, triggered by watching 2 Broke Girls and realizing how anachronistic everything feels now.
The Anachronistic Internet: When Cat Videos Actually Mattered
So here I am, 3 AM, canโt sleep, supposed to give a talk at FOSDEM in a few hours, and Iโm pretty sure Iโm getting sick after three weeks of travel. What does any rational human do in this situation? Watch 2 Broke Girls, obviously.
And holy shit, does that show feel anachronistic now.
Hipsters Donโt Exist Anymore (And Other Revelations)
First off, the hipster jokes. Nobody makes hipster jokes anymore because hipsters either donโt exist or became less culturally relevant than emos. Remember emos? Yeah, thatโs how dead hipsters are.
But it wasnโt just the cultural references that felt ancient. It was the internet itself.
Thereโs this scene where Caroline (the blonde one) takes Maxโs laptop to do some business stuff and stumbles upon her browser history. Not search historyโbrowser history. And whatโs in there? Cat videos. A cat ringing a doorbell. A kitten doing funny stuff. She rattles off 5 or 6 different videos.
And Iโm sitting there, exhausted and probably feverish, thinking: โHoly crap, thatโs how we used to consume content.โ
When Million Views Actually Meant Something
Remember when a video with a million views was a big deal? Not just numerically, but culturally? It meant millions of people actively sought that thing out. Someone told them about itโword of mouth, in real lifeโand they went home, opened their browser, fired up YouTube or Google, and searched for โcat ringing doorbellโ or whatever.
They made a conscious choice to watch it.
Thatโs so radically different from today it might as well be from a different species of internet.
Today, a million views means an algorithm shoved something in front of a million eyeballs. Half those people probably didnโt even want to see it. They were just scrolling, trapped in the engagement machine, and the algorithm decided their attention belonged to that video for the next 30 seconds.
The Browser History Archaeological Dig
Letโs talk about browser history for a second. When was the last time you checked yours? I mean really looked at it?
Back in the day? Browser history was like an archaeological dig of your curiosity. It told the story of how you discovered things, how you followed rabbit holes from one interesting thing to another. Youโd see the path from โfunny cat videosโ to โhow do cats see colorโ to โare cats colorblindโ to โevolution of feline visionโ to โwhy are my eyes dryโ to โcomputer screen blue lightโ to โbuying blue light glassesโ
That was the internet. A web of curiosity, not a feed of algorithmic manipulation.
The Walled Garden Apocalypse
Today, that same cat video discovery journey happens inside TikTok or Instagram Reels or YouTube Shorts. Itโs all contained within one app, one ecosystem, one companyโs idea of what you should see next.
The browser? Itโs basically just a container for apps now. Gmail, Slack, whatever productivity tool your company forces you to use. The actual webโthe place where you could stumble upon weird personal blogs and random forums and peopleโs actual thoughtsโthatโs mostly dead.
We traded the open web for engagement algorithms and dopamine slot machines.
When Sharing Was Intentional
Hereโs another thing that hit me during my 2 Broke Girls insomnia spiral: sharing used to require effort.
If I wanted to show you a video, I had to copy the URL, paste it in an email or IM, and send it to you. You had to click it, wait for it to load, and make the conscious decision to watch it. There was friction, and that friction meant something.
Now? I can โshareโ something by double-tapping it, and it gets blasted to everyone who follows me, whether they want it or not. The algorithm decides who sees it and when. Thereโs no intentionality, no curation, no thought.
We optimized the friction out of sharing and accidentally optimized the meaning out of it too.
The Great Attention Heist
This is what really gets me: somewhere along the way, we agreed to let algorithms decide what deserves our attention. We handed over one of the most precious resources we haveโour focusโto systems designed to extract maximum engagement, not deliver maximum value.
In the old internet, your attention was yours. You decided to search for something. You decided to click on a link. You decided to bookmark something for later. You were the curator of your own experience.
Now? Your attention is a commodity being traded in real-time auctions you donโt even know are happening.
But Wait, It Gets Worse
The really messed up part is how normalized this has become. We act like this is just how the internet works, like itโs some natural law. But itโs not. Itโs a business model. A very specific, very recent business model that prioritizes engagement over everything else.
Quality? Doesnโt matter as long as people keep scrolling.
Truth? Secondary to virality.
Your mental health? Not their problem.
Your time? Their most valuable asset.
Weโre not users anymore. Weโre the product. And weโre being sold to advertisers who want to influence our behavior.
The FOSDEM Connection (Because Why Not?)
Speaking of influencing behaviorโIโm supposed to talk about social web and community building at FOSDEM in a few hours. And maybe thatโs the connection here. The old internet was more like open source: decentralized, community-driven, built by people who cared about the craft, not the profit.
The new internet is more like proprietary software: controlled by a few big players, optimized for their benefit, not yours, and increasingly hostile to alternatives.
Maybe thatโs why Iโm feeling so nostalgic for browser histories and intentional sharing and cat videos that people actually searched for. It wasnโt just a different internetโit was a different philosophy about how technology should work.
So What Now?
I donโt have a grand solution here. Iโm literally writing this at 5 AM while probably getting sick and definitely procastinating.
But maybe awareness is the first step? Maybe we can start making more intentional choices about where we spend our attention? Maybe we can support platforms and tools that respect our agency instead of exploiting it?
Or maybe Iโm just being an old man yelling at algorithmic clouds.
Either way, I should probably try to get some sleep before I have to explain why social web matters to a room full of people who already know why social web matters.
At least thatโs one thing that hasnโt changed: programmers still love stating the obvious to each other at conferences.
Update: The FOSDEM talk will be fine. Caffeine is a hell of a drug.
Also readable in: https://maho.dev/2026/01/the-anachronistic-internet-when-cat-videos-actually-mattered/ by
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