Influencers Are the New Gods and We Built the Religion Ourselves
The influencer class has become our modern clergy, they blessing products, cursing restaurants, and performing miracles like turning vanity into income.
The influencer class has become our modern clergy, they blessing products, cursing restaurants, and performing miracles like turning vanity into income.
The rapper-turned-singer-turned-cowboy unveils “Boot.exe,” an album equal parts twang, trauma, and unexpected emotional clarity.
Americans say immigrants are stealing jobs, just not the ones that involve heat, lifting, or responsibility.
Protesters rally under the banner “No Kings,” prompting GOP outrage and a reminder that 1776 was basically the same event minus the Wi-Fi.
Turning Point USA wants an “All-American” Super Bowl halftime show to protest Bad Bunny’s Spanish lyrics, accidentally serving tacos while ignoring that Trump’s own rallies played Latin salsa hits.
Critics say reading is dead, yet commenters prove it daily, skimming headlines, ignoring nuance, and declaring opinions on articles they never actually read.
An ambitious all-female nightclub experiment collapsed when patrons spent the evening locked in a polite standoff, waiting for someone else to pick up the tab.
Monkey post is Nigeria’s street football tradition. People confusing it with Mocking Post. What gives?
It’s become a tired ritual in the WNBA: a questionable whistle blows, the game flips, and when players or coaches…
A self-growth collective claims infidelity, deception, and nudity retreats are just self-integrity. Thousands are paying to find themselves, by losing all empathy.
One minute he’s promised a sponsor-funded highlight reel, the next he’s in a group chat debating whether selling T-shirts counts as “valid business purpose.”
Let’s face it: while WNBA athletes fly, crash, and dazzle us nightly, the real “highlight” often comes courtesy of the folks in stripes, aka, the referees. And not always for the right reasons.