Raw Enchantment

My early internet recollections are grainy pictures of dial-up screeches and CRT flickers, like glitchy VHS cassettes. In 1998, when everything was at its best, the phrase "social media" didn't even exist. We had message boards, chat rooms, and forums—virtual hangouts where you could post your username and hope that someone intriguing might join.

I took my first dive on AOL. The chat rooms on it were disorganized mazes with moving avatars and screen names like "xXbLaCk_mAgIcXx." We scribbled furiously, our fingertips skimming the keys as we exchanged flirtations and jokes. The feeling of community that was created in real-time was thrilling despite the fact that you couldn't see the people behind the words.

Myspace gradually surfaced as a fragmented refuge for troubled teenagers like myself. My profile was a flashing GIF shrine with lyrics to angsty songs dedicated to my favorite bands. It was a way to broadcast my adolescent anguish to the world, or at least the 50 coolest people I knew, and an extension of my bedroom walls. It was carefree, clumsy, and completely self-indulgent, but that's precisely what made it amazing.

In retrospect, the platforms were clumsy and unpolished, like Frankenstein's beasts, constructed from fragments of code and youthful imaginations. However, they exuded a raw enchantment and an unadulterated feeling of connection that is missing from today's curated feeds and algorithms.

As I imagine the next phase of social media, I would value real engagement over fake virality. I see forums that encourage compassion and understanding, where civil discourse prevails over online fights. Picture a setting free from the echo chambers of filter bubbles, where a variety of voices may coexist. I imagine a digital town square where communities are based on common interests rather than carefully manicured personalities and ideas, not likes, are the units of exchange. Perhaps it's a nostalgic dream from the dial-up era. I hope social media in the future recalls the chaotic charm of those early days—the pure thrill of interacting with strangers who became friends through flickering pixels.

- A guest post from January 2024’s essay contest winner: Brian Kanda