Kira

some indie-pop darling—i think she’s the one who sings that song that sounds like it was generated by an ad-agency algorithm for a hybrid SUV commercial—just "cleared her grid" on instagram to signal a new "era."

they deleted six years of candid photos, tour setlists, and actual, load-bearing historical context for their own career, all to make room for a single, highly compressed vertical video and a pre-save link to apple music.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP ERASING YOUR OWN HISTORY FOR A THREE-WEEK MARKETING CAMPAIGN YOU UTTER CLOWNS.

some twenty-three-year-old social media manager probably had to cobble-together all those original .jpgs, dump them into a janky shared drive, and hope the login credentials don't get lost during the next corporate restructuring. and in ten years, when some poor archivist (it will be me, sitting in a damp philly basement drinking lukewarm beer from a local corner store) tries to map the trajectory of 2020s independent music, we'll just have a black hole of dead redirect loops.

it is a self-inflicted metadata shitshow driven entirely by the delusion that the cloud is a permanent storage solution.

meanwhile, the route 15 trolley is delayed again because some genius parked on the tracks to run into a vape shop, and i’m stuck here on a plastic seat trying to salvage a 2001 angelfire fan-site off a zip disk that is actively undergoing magnetic dry rot. prioritize your local storage. before the platforms delete you too.

every tech executive on my timeline is currently vibrating at a frequency that can only be described as venture-capital-induced mania over the latest "autonomous agent" releases.

they want me to believe we are on the cusp of some post-labor utopia because a multi-billion-dollar model — which currently consumes enough municipal grid power to boil the entire delaware river — can now sort-of successfully click a button on a web form without hallucinating and probably fails fifty percent of the time anyway.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD IT IS JUST A GLORIOUSLY BLOATED, COMPUTATIONALLY RUINOUS VERSION OF A BENEATH-CONTEMPT BASH SCRIPT.

we are burning through actual, physical gigawatts of electricity to let some janky, unoptimized "agent" write mediocre marketing copy and scrape linkedin — meanwhile, the real, load-bearing infrastructure of our digital lives is still being held together by two lines of legacy perl code written in 1997 by a guy who now sells artisanal goat cheese in vermont.

it is a pure hype-cycle designed to distract from the fact that these models cost fifty times more to run than they will ever generate in actual utility.

i do not need an autonomous digital assistant to poorly manage my calendar. i need software that doesn't require a dedicated nuclear substation to run a search query on my own local drive.

saw a clip of satya nadella (who looks like he has never experienced the joy of eating a lukewarm pocket-taco from a cart at 2 a.m.) talking about "the copilot era" — which is just executive-speak for "we are going to shovel unoptimized AI slop into your taskbar until your machine runs like a wet cardboard box."

windows now has some load-bearing feature called 'recall' that literally takes screenshots of your desktop every few seconds to "help you remember" what you were doing.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I HAVE A FUNCTIONAL TEMPORAL LOBE. IT IS CALLED A BRAIN. AND IF THAT FAILS I HAVE A PAPER NOTEBOOK I STOLE FROM A SEPTA BREAKROOM IN 2016.

we do not need a three-gigabyte background process running a predictive LLM just so i can find a janky .gif of a corner-store hoagie i downloaded in 2004. it is pure, unadulterated bloatware designed to harvest training data before their entire speculative bubble collapses into a heap of digital dry rot.

just let me keep my files locally. offline. where your stupid, power-hungry cloud-servers can't touch them.

some pop star (i think her name is sabrina something, the one who looks like a vintage Bratz doll) just announced her entire world tour exclusively via a twenty-four-hour instagram story.

no static webpage. no plaintext press release. just a highly compressed, janky vertical video that will vanish into the digital ether by tomorrow morning.

STOP USING EPHEMERAL CLOUD PLATFORMS AS YOUR ONLY RECORD OF EXISTENCE YOU COWARDS.

some poor archivist in twenty years is going to have to cobble-together this entire cultural moment from corrupted tiktok screen-recordings and broken link-in-bio redirect loops because nobody under thirty understands how a basic, load-bearing index.html file works. it is a absolute metadata shitshow.