It occurs to me that a modern intellectual concourse on the internet is a distant dream that has long since set sail. Why? It is simply because we are threatened by the copy-pasting carnage of the internet, which is unabashedly called “content”. Worse, the creators of such mindless tripe are known as content writers. Let the world collapse around you, as the curtain rises on the first act of the Chetan Bhagat-isation of the internet.

They call them listicles, and as I type it here on my Microsoft Word file, the sinful red underlining tells me of its non-existence in the English Dictionary. They claim it is the “deal-breaker”, and they flatter their slouching backs, posing as the revolutionary “dudes” of the present century. But to call yourself a writer! That is absolute blasphemy. In which sane world do we need the skill and expertise of a writer to copy and paste pictures below which stands in black and bold, unashamedly grammatically-challenged sentences? In which world does the human mind, in all its magnificent splendour, ponder the ten ways to be a true Punjabi, or the ten annoying blah-blah that people do? It is beyond my understanding as to how or why “what this guy did next” should “blow my mind”, or “make me cry”. So has the internet become a space for the sweet nothings of the otherwise bloated mind?

Okay, before we move further, listicles are what you call a list of images downloaded from google, and pasted on your webpage with a glib two-liner, mostly in order to prove a banal thought or idea. But that is not the end of it. You will find equally enthusiastic readers participating in the comment section below! (Where is the emoji that says, “I am aghast”? I need it desperately at this point.) The conversations are sometimes based on the most trivial topics, case in point, “Why every dude wants to be like (Insert Generic Actor’s Name).” Yes, you read EVERY. Listicle authors are prolific when it comes to making absolute statements. It is beyond me as to who made them the authorities on the likes and peeves of people. We’ll just have to wait for the “10 people who gave content writers the power to make unquestionable sweeping judgements… Number 3 will leave you brain dead!” to find out.

As if that weren’t bad enough on its own, the comment section is worse. It consists of people discussing listicles with the seriousness that would make one forget it was a fluff piece and instead a treatise on the human rights of Sudanese slaves. By the grace of god, I did not go completely blind on exposure to the unmitigated stupidity. I was merely rendered temporarily unable to perceive depth and colour. I have since recovered sufficiently to write this piece.

This is not to say that the word entertainment has been banned from my dictionary, nor does it suggest that the playful tide of these websites is not a welcome change. It merely means that Karl Marx can now posthumously tweak his statement and make it, “mindless entertainment is the opium of the masses”.

There is a deliberate shift in focus from news, that which should ideally be more engaging, to the trivial and banal sensibilities of the general public.
Our dear “listicles” can also be regarding racial segregation in the United States of America, in regards to the shooting of Michael Brown, or a look into the life of Kathak star Sitara Devi. But that would not suffice; the culture of listicles is averse to creating a buzz around something meaningful. No. That attribute is preciously reserved for the trivial. Therefore, incentivising listicles on all things inane.
Upon looking closely at this new development, the initial emotion is that of bewilderment, but a moment of reflection and you feel sad, lonely and start to suffer from terrible bouts of nausea. It is a sickness that has been inflicted upon us, as difficult as cholera or pneumonia. It is a sickness that has crept inside the World Wide Web, and is blunting our intelligence daily.

Will this article change that? Probably not. Perhaps if I were to number each point, write in short, clipped sentences, the grammar of which would have Shakespeare somersaulting in his grave, perhaps then you might share this piece. But as I am averse to this, let me borrow the unfazed headline of Khushwant Singh, “with malice towards one and all”.

(That’s it, I just copy pasted the crap out of the dead man, don’t look for any meaning. You wouldn’t be wrong if you applied the same logic to listicles.)