touch grass

An instruction to go outside, issued to someone whose position could only have been formed indoors. The most efficient insult of the decade.

So online that one's opinions no longer make sense offline — chronically online — as the diagnosis for a take that could only have been formed on a timeline. 'Extremely online' is the milder form; 'terminally' the last. The record's entry for the condition, from which it suffers.

The instruction to an opponent who has lost an argument: cope, then seethe, then — in the full version — dilate. A forum insult that lost its worst part on the way to the mainstream and kept the first two as a way to gloat.

A wojak in a black hoodie smoking, with a playlist of sad songs and no hope: the doomer, one of the 2018 wojak types, for the young man who has read too much and gone outside too little. The record's entry for the mood that became a character.

Bed rotting, with the 'girl' prefix of 2023 applied to make it a lifestyle: lying down, a screen, snacks, no plans. Part of the girl-dinner, girl-math family, and the one nobody had to explain.

'L + ratio + you fell off + no maidens' — the stacked insult of 2021–22, in which every reply added another loss. A format that made mockery cumulative, and was itself mocked into retirement by 2023.

To concentrate completely, announced in advance. The productivity vocabulary of a generation that treats focus as a special event.

The condition of behaving as if the world is your film: the slow walk, the soundtrack, the assumption that the queue is a plot device. The clinical-sounding form of 'main character', used as a diagnosis by people who have it.