A Mermaids Stuff

Refusing to lose a single fictional online fight.

When Tumblr maps out his secret Spain vacation nuance,

She immediately posts a selfie to ruin their stance.

A blurry tree behind her proves she was there too,

Desperately screaming to the void that the rumors are untrue.

When fans claim his co-star held his heart by the shore,

She deploys a strategic photo to settle the score.

A snapshot of them together with the deep blue sea,

Plastered as her profile picture for the world to see.

Then she deletes it ten minutes later in a panic,

Making the entire fandom laugh at how this inst organic

Did he call her up to yell and stop the charade?

Or is she just the general of a fake love brigade?

MW has been asked to post something explosive for a few minutes – just long enough for it to do the rounds here and shut a few people up.

Perhaps it would be best to wrap up the discussion about his nephew, given that they’re asking so insistently.

Con toda esta banda de payasos ya no hace falta inventar nada, la realidad ya viene con efectos especiales. Lo mejor de toda esta nueva historia es que nadie habría escrito un guion tan inverosímil. El ridículo con ellos tiene una virtud, nunca pasa desapercibido.

With this whole circus of clowns, there's no need to make anything up anymore reality already comes with its own special effects. The best part of this latest saga is that no one could've written a script this far-fetched. One thing about them: when it comes to making fools of themselves, they never go unnoticed.

https://www.instagram.com/p/DadaPAgCEnz/

Someone would have to be very naive to think the two of them just randomly thought, “Why walk five minutes to the local bar for a drink when we can get in a car and drive two hours to do the exact same thing?”

Also, when two friends hang out they don’t usually turn it into a PR shoot for the venue and the alcohol brand.

The connection between Sam and Starz is obvious. I have no doubt that his alcohol will also be served at the Season 2 premiere, and it’s possible he’ll even show up himself because let’s be honest, almost no one cares about that show. How tightly that connection is bound by contracts, what each side gets out of it, I don’t know, and we probably never will. But it’s definitely not free promotion out of pure goodwill.

Every time another tiny piece of the game drops, whether from them directly or through their favorite blogger, the whole fandom jumps to attention. And yes, most of it is mockery, frustration, and second-hand embarrassment, but still. Traffic is traffic. Bad publicity is still publicity.

And that’s the sad part, because you can see the engagement slowly fading. Not all at once, but in little drops. Tumblr has become pretty boring. Sam is basically in permanent sales mode, and aside from gossip, there isn’t much to discuss. Caitriona only really pops up when she has a new project to promote, and it works for her. She doesn’t need an army of fans constantly maintaining her business for her.

It feels like Sam may be heading down a road many male leads from long-running shows have walked before, especially the ones who were part of a major romantic pairing. They start as heartthrobs, with tons of female fans and far more attention than the actresses beside them. Then the show ends, the slow fade begins, and you blink. Suddenly twenty years have passed, and their career is mostly small projects that keep a reduced fanbase alive, living off the nostalgia of the one role that made them famous, going from convention to convention, while the actress beside them is collecting awards and booking better roles.

And while that may work for some of those actors, and maybe it’s enough for them, Sam has built a very expensive little empire that is supposed to be funded by that same fanbase. But he isn’t doing much to expand his audience. Not through different acting roles, not through his alcohol business, not through his books. He has put all his eggs in one basket.

So maybe that explains, in some way, these pathetic attempts to revive a sleepy fandom.

Or maybe not.

and why this is not off- topic

When I read the synopsis for *Yesteryear*, I assumed the book’s focus was "merely" the "tradwife" trend, and I also anticipated a plot involving time travel (silly me🙃). But what I actually discovered while reading this story was a raw and profound analysis of online versus offline personas.

The protagonist, Natalie—much like countless others who make a living (or attempt to) off their online image—takes you on a journey through the nuances of these two distinct worlds she inhabits. And during this literary voyage, you will inevitably pause to ask yourself: "Where have I seen this before?" "Is my online persona truly the same as my offline self?" "Is this online figure still a human being, or have they become nothing more than a product?"

As the book progresses, a crucial question emerges: What becomes of the mental health of someone living a double life?

Before the advent of the Internet, living a double life meant doing double the work. Today, thanks to filters, hashtags, and specialized agencies, it has become remarkably easy. Often, all it takes is a smartphone and an Internet connection to craft a narrative—an entirely different life. A few catchy captions, a flattering camera angle, and the "offline" persona’s terrible day are instantly transformed into the "online" persona’s picture-perfect day. But how long can the human mind endure such a strain?

Another question arises: Why do people flock to follow online personalities, so easily accepting what they see as reality—something never to be questioned—as if what is presented online were the absolute, unvarnished truth?

Natalie has a husband, a brood of children, and a farm—complete with livestock, crops, and all the gruelling labour that such a lifestyle typically entails. People admire her, marvelling at how she manages to handle it all—unaware that the *offline* Natalie can not handle any of it on her own. Yet, all that assistance—every mechanism operating behind the scenes of every single post—is never revealed online. It is two worlds, two personas, two Natalies—and a thousand products and ideas being sold. At a steep price—not just for the consumers, but for Natalie herself.

As I read, all of this reminded me of the mixed signals, the words that fail to align with actions, and the half-truths we have been witnessing right here for at least a dozen years. A life filled with motivational quotes from so many who arrived and departed like comets—lines published in articles containing misleading information. It seems that truth is something uninteresting online, and everything must be part of a performance.

But the ultimate questions this book presents to us are these: Why has what you need to be online become more important than who you truly are? Have you ever considered the price you are already paying—or will eventually pay—for this?

and why this is not off- topic

When I read the synopsis for *Yesteryear*, I assumed the book’s focus was "merely" the "tradwife" trend, and I also anticipated a plot involving time travel (silly me🙃). But what I actually discovered while reading this story was a raw and profound analysis of online versus offline personas.

The protagonist, Natalie—much like countless others who make a living (or attempt to) off their online image—takes you on a journey through the nuances of these two distinct worlds she inhabits. And during this literary voyage, you will inevitably pause to ask yourself: "Where have I seen this before?" "Is my online persona truly the same as my offline self?" "Is this online figure still a human being, or have they become nothing more than a product?"

As the book progresses, a crucial question emerges: What becomes of the mental health of someone living a double life?

Before the advent of the Internet, living a double life meant doing double the work. Today, thanks to filters, hashtags, and specialized agencies, it has become remarkably easy. Often, all it takes is a smartphone and an Internet connection to craft a narrative—an entirely different life. A few catchy captions, a flattering camera angle, and the "offline" persona’s terrible day are instantly transformed into the "online" persona’s picture-perfect day. But how long can the human mind endure such a strain?

Another question arises: Why do people flock to follow online personalities, so easily accepting what they see as reality—something never to be questioned—as if what is presented online were the absolute, unvarnished truth?

Natalie has a husband, a brood of children, and a farm—complete with livestock, crops, and all the gruelling labour that such a lifestyle typically entails. People admire her, marvelling at how she manages to handle it all—unaware that the *offline* Natalie can not handle any of it on her own. Yet, all that assistance—every mechanism operating behind the scenes of every single post—is never revealed online. It is two worlds, two personas, two Natalies—and a thousand products and ideas being sold. At a steep price—not just for the consumers, but for Natalie herself.

As I read, all of this reminded me of the mixed signals, the words that fail to align with actions, and the half-truths we have been witnessing right here for at least a dozen years. A life filled with motivational quotes from so many who arrived and departed like comets—lines published in articles containing misleading information. It seems that truth is something uninteresting online, and everything must be part of a performance.

But the ultimate questions this book presents to us are these: Why has what you need to be online become more important than who you truly are? Have you ever considered the price you are already paying—or will eventually pay—for this?

At this point, I don’t think the question is whether Tumblr is being read. It obviously is. By who exactly doesn’t even matter anymore, because the pattern is consistent: Tumblr points at the weak spot, and then a post appears that seems designed to patch it.

A month ago it was the birthday collage, last week it was the thumbs and the hats. People questioned whether it was really her, and then hours later came the selfie. Now it was the dog, the sunglasses, the doubt, and right on schedule, the repost.

So the real question is: why are we still handing them the talking points?

Every time this corner of Tumblr gets loud, it functions like a free focus group. We highlight the hole, they plug it. Usually badly, but still. And the timing makes it even more obvious. The Josh sketch and bloopers reignited the Sam and Cait discourse, and on cue, we get a Steph breadcrumb right when the conversation gets too loud.

I completely understand why people want to talk or vent or just joke about it. It’s exhausting, and humor helps. But if the public dash is being used as a live workshop for this narrative, then maybe the smartest move is to move the conversations elsewhere. DMs, group chats, private communities, whatever works.