one day, browsing /r/me_irl like the Dank Memer I am, with 8411 collective Le Reddit Points (karma) attained through this sub alone, I saw the sticky. the "me irl" guidelines. clicking on it, I read "actually, anything between the lowercase me and lowercase irl are cool. it's all about the spirt u know? thank you for posting to me irl." i had an idea. a shit idea. an idea that, technically, did not infringe on anyone's rules, beliefs, identities, or ideas in general. there, between the "Me" and the "Irl", i squeezed in as many miscellaneous japanese text emoticons as I could. I defied the false chains of convention, the imposing nature of the plain "me irl", and reached through to my true limits: this shitpost of a title you see here. it doesn't even have any content. the work of art is the title itself; a frame without a painting. a more accurate description would be the frame with a photograph of the same frame within it. for a while, it got like three or four karma. then the downvotes came in. people who called themselves shitposters; people who populated a safe haven for shitposters like me whose posts of shit were rejected from more conventional subreddits, rejected my own shitpost. they outright denied one of their own kind. what is the /r/me_irl creed? what is okay and what is not? you know... laika, the communist dog, was rejected like this too. "no u cant go into space," the capitalists said. "living being s'post to stay on Earths." but the communists collectively whipped out their figurative socialist dicks, flipping off the americans, and tired restlessly at constructing the horizon-piercing apparatus of the space shuttle, to define new limits despite what all the h8ers said. laika found her place in the device, and the concentrated explosion machine (rockets) explosion-farted laika into space, amongst the stars. floating dog.... the capitalists looked up with their money telescopes in awe. the dog was in space and everyone shat their pants, boosting business for laundromats everywhere. the space age began. looking back, them oldies would find Us, Millennials, weird. with our booty shorts, dank memes, and feminism. i mean, even old grandpas today do it, still clinging on to a present they refuse to believe has already been buried away in the past for years. fast forward a few years. our children, with memes unlike those we enjoy today, will look back at us and our ways of life. to them, yee and slayer would be vintage memes in the same way that numa numa and CDI Zelda are to us. in just the same, they would look back at our societal expectations of shitposts. perhaps in the future, EVERY /r/me_irl post has a bullshit symbol clusterfuck in the middle. we don't know. all we know that every day, even this one, and the next, and the next, and the next... and so on... there will be innovators - like the first fucker who set some sticks on fire, and the intellectuals who built printing presses to share their ideas, and the communist leaders who brought up socialism for all, and the space dogs amongst laika who cockblocked gravity, and the shitposters like me and you today who defy convention with the literal worst inside jokes and support for the communist transmatriarchy, who take us from today to tomorrow.

thank you for your time, your love, your upvotes, and mr skeltal. ayy lmao, oppa gangnam style.