The Twitter View Count Experience Is Like Being Left On Read But By Millions Of People
The twitter view count experience is like being left on read but by millions of people
More Posts from Theumbrellawoman and Others
the motel room, or: on datedness
I.
Often I find myself nostalgic for things that haven't disappeared yet. This feeling is enhanced by the strange conviction that once I stop looking at these things, I will never see them again, that I am living in the last moment of looking. This is sense is strongest for me in the interiors of buildings perhaps because, like items of clothing, they are of a fashionable nature, in other words, more impermanent than they probably should be.
As I get older, to stumble on something truly dated, once a drag, is now a gift. After over a decade of real estate aggregation and the havoc it's wreaked on how we as a society perceive and decorate houses, if you're going to Zillow to search for the dated (which used to be like shooting fish in a barrel), you'll be searching aimlessly, for hours, to increasingly no avail, even with all the filters engaged. (The only way to get around this is locational knowledge of datedness gleaned from the real world.) If you try to find images of the dated elsewhere on the internet, you will find that the search is not intuitive. In this day and age, you cannot simply Google "80s hotel room" anymore, what with the disintegration of the search engine ecosystem and the AI generated nonsense and the algorithmic preference for something popular (the same specific images collected over and over again on social media), recent, and usually a derivative of the original search query (in this case, finding material along the lines of r/nostalgia or the Backrooms.)
To find what one is looking for online, one must game the search engine with filters that only show content predating 2021, or, even better, use existing resources (or those previously discovered) both online and in print. In the physical world of interiors, to find what one is looking for one must also now lurk around obscure places, and often outside the realm of the domestic which is so beholden to and cursed by the churn of fashion and the logic of speculation. Our open world is rapidly closing, while, paradoxically, remaining ostensibly open. It's true, I can open Zillow. I can still search. In the curated, aggregated realm, it is becoming harder and harder to find, and ultimately, to look.
But what if, despite all these changes, datedness was never really searchable? This is a strange symmetry, one could say an obscurity, between interiors and online. It is perhaps unintentional, and it lurks in the places where searching doesn't work, one because no one is searching there, or two, because an aesthetic, for all our cataloguing, curation, aggregation, hoarding, is not inherently indexable and even if it was, there are vasts swaths of the internet and the world that are not categorized via certain - or any - parameters. The internet curator's job is to find them and aggregate them, but it becomes harder and harder to do. They can only be stumbled upon or known in an outside, offline, historical or situational way. If to index, to aggregate, is, or at least was for the last 30 years, to profit (whether monetarily or in likes), then to be dated, in many respects, is the aesthetic manifestation of barely breaking even. Of not starting, preserving, or reinventing but just doing a job.
We see this online as well. While the old-web Geocities look and later Blingee MySpace-era swag have become aestheticized and fetishized, a kind of naive art for a naive time, a great many old websites have not received the same treatment. These are no less naive but they are harder to repackage or commodify because they are simple and boring. They are not "core" enough.
As with interiors, web datedness can be found in part or as a whole. For example, sites like Imgur or Reddit are not in and of themselves dated but they are full of remnants, of 15-year old posts and their "you, sir, have won the internet" vernacular that certainly are. Other websites are dated because they were made a long time ago by and for a clientele that doesn't have a need or the skill to update (we see this often with Web 2.0 e-commerce sites that figured out how to do a basic mobile page and reckoned it was enough). The next language of datedness, like the all-white landlord-special interior, is the default, clean Squarespace restaurant page, a landing space that's the digital equivalent of a flyer, rarely gleaned unless someone needs a menu, has a food allergy or if information about the place is not available immediately from Google Maps. I say this only to maintain that there is a continuity in practices between the on- and off-line world beyond what we would immediately assume, and that we cannot blame everything on algorithms.
But now you may ask, what is, exactly, datedness? Having spent two days in a distinctly dated hotel room, I've decided to sit in utter boredom with the numinous past and try and pin it down.
II.
I am in an obscure place. I am in Saint-Georges, Quebec, Canada, on assignment. I am staying at a specific motel, the Voyageur. By my estimation the hotel was originally built in the late seventies and I'd be shocked if it was older than 1989. The hotel exterior was remodeled sometime in the 2000s with EIFS cladding and beige paint. Above is a picture of my room, which, forgive me, is in the process of being inhabited. American (and to a lesser extent Canadian) hotel rooms are some of the most churned through, renovated spaces in the world, and it's pretty rare, unless you're staying in either very small towns or are forced by economic necessity to stay at real holes in the wall, to find ones from this era. The last real hitter for me was a 90s Day's Inn in the meme-famous Breezewood, PA during the pandemic.
At first my reaction to seeing the room was cautionary. It was the last room in town, and certainly compared to other options, probably not the world's first choice. However, after staying in real, genuine European shitholes covering professional cycling I've become a class-A connoisseur of bad rooms. This one was definitively three stars. A mutter of "okay time to do a quick look through." But upon further inspection (post-bedbug paranoia) I came to the realization that maybe the always-new brainrot I'd been so critical of had seeped a teeny bit into my own subconscious and here I was snubbing my nose at a blessing in disguise. The room is not a bad room, nor is it unclean. It's just old. It's dated. We are sentimental about interiors like this now because they are disappearing, but they are for my parents what 2005 beige-core is for me and what 2010s greige will become for the generation after. When I'm writing about datedness, I'm writing in general using a previous era's examples because datedness, by its very nature, is a transitional status. Its end state is the mixed emotion of seeing things for what they are yet still appreciating them, expressed here.
Datedness is the period between vintage and contemporary. It is the sentiment between quotidian and subpar. It is uncurated and preserved only by way of inertia, not initiative. It gives us a specific feeling we don't necessarily like, one that is deliberately evoked in the media subcultures surrounding so-called "liminal" spaces: the fuguelike feeling of being spatially trapped in a time while our real time is passing. Datedness in the real world is not a curated experience, it is only what was. It is different from nostalgia because it is not deliberately remembered, yearned for or attached to sweetness. Instead, it is somehow annoying. It is like stumbling into the world of adults as a child, but now you're the adult and the child in you is disappointed. (The real child-you forgot a dull hotel room the moment something more interesting came along.) An image of my father puts his car keys on the table, looks around and says, "It'll do." We have an intolerance for datedness because it is the realization of what sufficed. Sufficiency in many ways implies lack.
However, for all its datedness, many, if not all, of the things in this room will never be seen again if the room is renovated. They will become unpurchaseable and extinct. Things like the bizarrely-patterned linoleum tile in the shower, the hose connecting to the specific faucet of the once-luxurious (or at least middling) jacuzzi tub whose jets haven't been exercised since the fall of the Berlin Wall. The wide berth of the tank on the toilet. There is nothing, really, worth saving about these things. Even the most sentimental among us wouldn't dare argue that the items and finishes in this room are particularly important from a design or historical standpoint. Not everything old has a patina. They're too cheaply made to salvage. Plastic tile. Bowed plywood. The image-artifacts of these rooms, gussied up for Booking dot com, will also, inevitably disappear, relegated to the dustheap of web caches and comments that say "it was ok kinda expensive but close to twon (sic)." You wouldn't be able to find them anyway unless you were looking for a room.
One does, of course, recognize a little bit of design in what's here. Signifiers of an era. The wood-veneer of the late 70s giving way to the pastel overtones of the 80s. Perhaps even a slow 90s. The all-in-one vanity floating above the floor, a modernist basement bathroom hallmark. White walls as a sign of cleanliness. Gestures, in the curved lines of the nightstands, towards postmodernity. Metallic lamp bases with wide-brimmed shades, a whisper of glamor. A kind of scalloped aura to the club chairs. The color teal mediated through hundreds if not thousands of shoes. Yellowing plastic, including the strips of "molding" that visually tie floor to wall. These are remnants (or are they intuitions?) of so many movements and micromovements, none of them definite enough to point to the influence of a single designer, hell, even of a single decade, just strands of past-ness accumulated into one thread, which is cheapness. Continuity exists in the materials only because everything was purchased as a set from a wholesale catalog.
In some way a hotel is supposed to be placeless. Anonymous. Everything tries to be that way now, even houses. Perhaps because we don't like the way we spy on ourselves and lease our images out to the world so we crave the specificity of hotel anonymity, of someplace we move through on our way to bigger, better or at least different things. The hotel was designed to be frictionless but because it is in a little town, it sees little use and because it sees little use, there are elements that can last far longer than they were intended and which inadvertently cause friction. (The janky door unlocks with a key. The shower hose keeps coming out of the faucet. It's deeply annoying.)
Lack of wear and lack of funds only keep them that way. Not even the paper goods of the eighties have been exhausted yet. Datedness is not a choice but an inevitability. Because it is not a choice, it is not advertised except in a utilitarian sense. It is kept subtle on the hotel websites, out of shame. Because it does not subscribe to an advertiser's economy of the now, of the curated type rather than the "here is my service" type, it disappears into the folds of the earth and cannot be searched for in the way "design" can. It can only be discovered by accident.
When I look at all of these objects and things, I do so knowing I will never see them again, at least not all here together like this, as a cohesive whole assembled for a specific purpose. I don't think I'll ever have reason to come back to this town or this place, which has given me an unexpected experience of being peevish in my father's time. Whenever I end up in a place like this, where all is as it was, I get the sense that it will take a very long time for others to experience this sensation again with the things my generation has made. The machinations of fashion work rapaciously to make sure that nothing is ever old, not people, not rooms, not items, not furniture, not fabrics, not even design, that old matron who loves to wax poetic about futurity and timelessness. The plastic-veneered particleboard used here is now the bedrock of countless landfills. Eventually it will become the chemical-laced soil upon which we build our condos. It is possible that we are standing now at the very last frontier of our prior datedness. The next one has not yet elided. It's a special place. Spend a night. Take pictures.
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!
Here's your Daily Reminder to Click for Palestine!
#free🇵🇸 palestina 🇵🇸
I am Sahar from Gaza, and I wish to find someone from outside the country who can help me with travel and immigration. I search for someone who can reunite us and consider us as part of their family, my family and I. I want to travel, whether through the Red Cross or via Ramon Airport. I can no longer endure this slow death and endless fear.💔😭😭😭
To donate, click here. Your support is our lifeline👇
#free Gaza #gaza
#save palestina #palestina
Shinwaka’s angst anthem is Careless Whisper
‼️We still need your help... We want to live and stay in this life🫂‼️
Hello, I'm Lama from Gaza. As you know, we lost everything we owned...our house, our work, our car, and members of my family, and we are trying to survive. 💔😭
Our memories, our home, our lives, everything no longer exists, nothing remains as it was, and now we need your help again. My gofundme campaign has been cancelled, and now I have created a campaign on chuffed to continue and to fight in this difficult life. 😭🥶
With your presence, we will complete our lives and continue.🙏🫂🫂
This was our home before, and now we are in a worn-out tent. Help us ... Our lives have become homelessness, displacement, hunger and destruction.🙏🫂😔
.............................................................
Donate & share my campaign, I need you...🙏🙏🙏
Please sign the petition!!!
Past and present in one image
My family was stable, we lived in peace, and now all we know is the sounds of explosions and the smell of corpses in the streets. We are escaping death every moment. We struggle to get food and drink, as the video showed in a previous post. Video link:
My eldest son Zain's first year at school was a joy for his school, friends and teachers. His life was like the life of any child who dreams of everything beautiful.
My second son, Yahya, was in his first year of kindergarten,and he would wake up early, happy to go to his friends and play.
Or do they now wake up to the sounds of planes and explosions and feel ashamed when they stand in line to get food or water? A terrible difference between our lives in the past and the present. A year between our stable life and the life of war, no education, no games, no life, no security, and no source of income. How long, world, where is humanity, where are the rights of my children? I hope you will donate. As much as possible, my family and I want to leave Gaza. I want my children to have a life that suits them My friends, donate as much as you can.
Post my story. Your friends may be able to help my family and donate or spread our story. I trust anyone who has a heart and humanity.
vetted by @littlegermanboy @90-ghost @sayruq @ @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #127 ) @arroe
Tagging for reach 🙏
@90-ghost @heritageposts @gazavetters @neechees @butchniqabi
@fluoresensitive @khanger @autisticmudkip @beserkerjewel @furiousfinnstan
@xinakwans @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerr @butchsunsetshimmer
@biconicfinn @stopmotionguy @willgrahamscock @strangeauthor @bryoria
@shesnake @legallybrunettedotcom @lautakwah @sovietunion @evillesbianvillain
@antibioware @akajustmerry @dizzymoods @ree-duh @neptunerings
@explosionshark @dlxxv-vetted-donations @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @sayruq
@malcriada @sar-soor @northgazaupdates2 @feluka @dirhwangdaseul
@jdon @ibtisams @sawasawako @memingursa @schoolhater
@toesuckingoctober @waskuyecaozu @lapithae @ryo-yamada @opencommunion
@el-shab-hussein @feluka @paper-mario-wiki@comintoyoulive @strangeauthor
@neechees @sawasawako @dirhwangdaseul @autisticmudkip @postanagramgenerator
@khanger @vague-humanoid @librapropaganda @wonhos-fabuloso @divorcedyaoi
@cozy2000 @orphetoon @catgirl-kaiju @dykentery @ossifer
@crusty @libelelle @coastalhorrors @tenderscience @tiercel
@borrelia @nvtxl @nonbinary-watanuki @bigandgreedy @jdon
The fact that my Emo Band meme is still getting more kudos than my (most recent) Kisaki one proves that fans never check his tag LMFAOOO
Help Hyam Shehab save her family
@hyamshehabfamile and her family are once again facing an unforgiving winter in the midst of ongoing oppression, disease, a lack of food and clean water, and inhumane conditions.
Their main goal is €60,000 to reach safety, but they are setting a temporary goal of €10,000 by the end of the week to cover the costs of warm clothes, food, and other immediate needs for 6 people.
As of December 2, 2024, this campaign has raised €3,443 / €10,000
Please donate if you can and share! This is a time sensitive short-term goal
This campaign is line 127 on the Gaza Vetters list
tagging for reach
@anamiques @vague-humanoid @andromachos @wutheringheightsfilm @solroja @lesboevils @evilbisexualonline @lovetren @xenomorphique @bedcorpse @keithers @mossymagpie @in-need-of-another-name @thetragiclown @soggy-paradise @same-png @ispyspookymansion @dickmaster @geometric-orcas @angelsaxis @vamprisms @heritageposts @colorisbyshe @mpregbts @dlxxv-vetted-donations @chilewithcarnage @2spirit-0spoons @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @femmefitz
I am Ahmed from Gaza, 26 years old. I stand before you as a person trying to support my family of 7: me, my father, my mother and my sisters, in our miserable circumstances, which we live in after the occupation launched the war on Gaza. We were displaced from our home and it was completely destroyed. We are now living in shelters. Due to the circumstances and low income, we are unable to provide the necessary benefits such as food and drink due to the crazy increase in prices. Thus, my source of livelihood has been destroyed, but it has been completely destroyed, as we are no longer entitled to work; and we expect to live in miserable conditions in the shelters. It is difficult for me to find the words to describe what we face every day in the shelters; without food, medicine or clean drinking water; with the oppression, helplessness, psychological pressures, doubts and daily shocks caused by everything around us and the inability to care for our loved ones. The fear of danger, disease and death never leaves us.
Now, I find myself in this difficult situation, and I humbly ask for your help to save the lives of my family, especially my father and mother, by getting us out of Gaza to Egypt and building a new life outside Gaza or helping us get money to buy the necessities that we may be able to afford. Asking for help is not easy, but we had no choice because we want to survive and strive to rebuild our shattered lives. We are very grateful for any help you can offer, no matter how small, as your help will go a long way in alleviating our suffering. I hope you will share my story with your family and friends.
-
marysmirages liked this · 2 years ago -
spudcat liked this · 2 years ago -
theumbrellawoman reblogged this · 2 years ago
“𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴.”
298 posts