#doomscrolling — Public Fediverse posts

@philogelos

Vielen Dank für das Interesse! 🙏

Mir fällt eben oft auf, dass die sehr vielen, positiven Errungenschaften im Alltag kaum in #Medien erscheinen, nicht einmal auf #Mastodon.

Und ich möchte etwas dagegen tun.

#Medienethik gegen #Schweigespirale #Doomscrolling

@philogelos

Vielen Dank für das Interesse! 🙏

Mir fällt eben oft auf, dass die sehr vielen, positiven Errungenschaften im Alltag kaum in #Medien erscheinen, nicht einmal auf #Mastodon.

Und ich möchte etwas dagegen tun.

#Medienethik gegen #Schweigespirale #Doomscrolling

@philogelos

Vielen Dank für das Interesse! 🙏

Mir fällt eben oft auf, dass die sehr vielen, positiven Errungenschaften im Alltag kaum in #Medien erscheinen, nicht einmal auf #Mastodon.

Und ich möchte etwas dagegen tun.

#Medienethik gegen #Schweigespirale #Doomscrolling

@philogelos

Vielen Dank für das Interesse! 🙏

Mir fällt eben oft auf, dass die sehr vielen, positiven Errungenschaften im Alltag kaum in #Medien erscheinen, nicht einmal auf #Mastodon.

Und ich möchte etwas dagegen tun.

#Medienethik gegen #Schweigespirale #Doomscrolling

@philogelos

Vielen Dank für das Interesse! 🙏

Mir fällt eben oft auf, dass die sehr vielen, positiven Errungenschaften im Alltag kaum in #Medien erscheinen, nicht einmal auf #Mastodon.

Und ich möchte etwas dagegen tun.

#Medienethik gegen #Schweigespirale #Doomscrolling

Strange day. Finally found the main reason (Hope so) for my doomscrolling: I'm missing an old IRC channel and related community. I just want that old feeling when you are mixing reply or two into ongoing chat getting reply or two before going back to afk or fully committing to the topic.
Now this experience looks impossible.

#doomscrolling #thoughts #IRC #oldWeb

Strange day. Finally found the main reason (Hope so) for my doomscrolling: I'm missing an old IRC channel and related community. I just want that old feeling when you are mixing reply or two into ongoing chat getting reply or two before going back to afk or fully committing to the topic.
Now this experience looks impossible.

#doomscrolling #thoughts #IRC #oldWeb

Strange day. Finally found the main reason (Hope so) for my doomscrolling: I'm missing an old IRC channel and related community. I just want that old feeling when you are mixing reply or two into ongoing chat getting reply or two before going back to afk or fully committing to the topic.
Now this experience looks impossible.

#doomscrolling #thoughts #IRC #oldWeb

Strange day. Finally found the main reason (Hope so) for my doomscrolling: I'm missing an old IRC channel and related community. I just want that old feeling when you are mixing reply or two into ongoing chat getting reply or two before going back to afk or fully committing to the topic.
Now this experience looks impossible.

#doomscrolling #thoughts #IRC #oldWeb

Strange day. Finally found the main reason (Hope so) for my doomscrolling: I'm missing an old IRC channel and related community. I just want that old feeling when you are mixing reply or two into ongoing chat getting reply or two before going back to afk or fully committing to the topic.
Now this experience looks impossible.

#doomscrolling #thoughts #IRC #oldWeb

How to Set YouTube Shorts Timer in 2026 (Stop Doomscrolling & Take Back Control)

Lost another hour to the infinite scroll? You can't rely on willpower alone. Learn how to set a daily limit, pause the feed, and reclaim your time today.

#Doomscrolling #DigitalWellbeing #YouTubeShorts #Izoate #Tech

https://www.izoate.com/blog/how-to-set-youtube-shorts-timer-in-2026-best-way-to-stop-doomscrolling-regain-control/

Death of the doomscroller

Exactly one year ago today I started a little experiment. It had been sparked by a post I had seen on social media, and ironically led to me leaving social media entirely(ish). A few days after I started the experiment I wrote about it here (eight paragraphs from the end), but in brief I decided to stop scrolling on my phone and read an ebook instead.

I had been aware for some time that whenever I had a free moment the phone would come out and I would spend that time scrolling through (predominantly) negative content. Intermittently I had tried ideas to reduce my scrolling time, getting rid of most of my accounts, deleting apps from my phone, trying to write instead, but nothing had properly stuck.

As I said in the blog last year, the recommendation on the social media post had been to download and read an ebook instead of scrolling. I was not sure if this would work, but decided to give it a try. I downloaded Small Gods by Terry Pratchett, and set about trying to stick to the plan.

Given I am writing this a year later you can probably guess what happened, but to be clear today is the one year anniversary of me reading ebooks instead of scrolling. Every day for the last 365 days I have read on my phone instead of doomscrolling. Today I announce the death of a doomscroller.

Great, but you are still on your phone…

I’m not sure I was 100% convinced I would make it to a year of reading instead of scrolling. As I have said above I had tried other things before which did not work. I imagined this plan would be something similar. To my surprise, it has worked.

Like any good experiment, it is important to evaluate the results. I’ve given up scrolling and replaced it with e-reading, but has it had the desired effect when I started; improve my overall wellbeing? This post is a reflection of sorts on the last year, what has changed, what I have learned, and what my plans are for the next year and beyond.

Let’s start with what you might think is the bleeding obvious…

I’ve read more

Duh!

But also, I’ve really read more. Over the last year on my phone I have read twenty books, abandoned one absolutely terrible book about 20% of the way through, and I am currently 55% of the way through my latest choice. Many of these books were Terry Pratchett books I had been wanting to read for some time, but in the last couple of months I had started to diversify a bit. I’ve also started a to-be-read pile online with a couple of books I will be tackling once I have finished The Portable Door.

I’ve really read more

As well as reading more on my phone, I have read more of the (many, many) books I have in my real life to-be-read pile. With less time spent doomscrolling on the phone, this has given me time to read, especially on an evening once the Toddler is in bed. I am currently working my way through the complete Earthsea collection, a hefty tome I might not have considered tackling a year ago for fear I would not have the time.

I’ve listened more

I am not sure if they are directly linked, but since giving up my doomscrolling, I have listened to more podcasts. Some of these are short stories, but mostly they are the selection of history shows I follow, a list which has only grown over the last year. I cannot quantify exactly how much, but I know I have spent more time listening and learning since the doomscrolling ceased.

I’m writing more

As well as having time to read, I have time on an evening to keep up to my plan to write something every day. Before, this might have been only a line or two before bed, now it can be pages of work on a good day. Over the last year I have finished one book, edited it and now I am submitting it to agents for consideration. I am also close to the first draft of a Christmas novella. Off the phone and at the keyboard has seen my productivity increase significantly.

My phone is missing me

Each Monday my phone gives me a breakdown of phone usage over the last week. Prior to giving up scrolling, this would often be to tell me my average use had gone up. Since stopping scrolling, the semi-judgemental comments have stopped, and each day I am averaging very little time on the phone. It is not just the summary which confirms my slow breakup with my phone, other than days I use my phone as a sat nav for long drives, the battery will easily last me the whole day.

I’m less connected

There is no getting around it, I am less connected to news and events taking place around the world. Now this is not necessarily a bad thing, news (social media based or otherwise) is biased towards negative stories, so less connection can be a positive thing. At the same time, being completely cut off from the world is a privileged position not everyone can afford to take. I am still using my RSS feed and checking on a news website daily for the headlines, but I only do so once a day. I am less connected, but not disconnected.

I am happier?

The purpose of the original post advising people to read more and scroll less was to improve people’s wellbeing and happiness. I did not have any worries about my mental health when I started this experiment, but I could see I would have more bad mood days when I had been heavy on the scrolling.

So am I happier a year down the line?

Probably… yes, maybe. How we feel day to day is a complex process. A big traumatic event on its own can impact how we are feeling, but smaller factors like the news we consume are not going to determine our mood alone. That being said, my outlook on life does seem a little more cheerful one year on. I certainly have a more positive view of the future than the Wife who has not changed her consumption habits. Of course the Wife’s view could be correct, everything is terrible and any positive views are deluded, but I’m sure there is a little more nuance to it, and cutting down the doomscrolling has at the very least given me a more balanced perspective.

The next 365 days

The biggest question I am left with, will I keep this up?

Short answer; yes.

Slightly longer answer; yes I will.

Actual answer which can form the conclusion of this post; yes I will keep my reading-instead-of-scrolling plan going for the next year and probably longer. Whether I will extend the plan to further replace my digital dependence is not something I have fully thought through. At the moment I am happy with the balance I have achieved, think the benefits above far outweigh the downsides, and there will be a point where I cannot switch off completely. As much as I would love to throw away the phone and live in a cabin in the woods, it’s not going to happen and time soon, and that is (probably) OK.

Death of the doomscroller

Exactly one year ago today I started a little experiment. It had been sparked by a post I had seen on social media, and ironically led to me leaving social media entirely(ish). A few days after I started the experiment I wrote about it here (eight paragraphs from the end), but in brief I decided to stop scrolling on my phone and read an ebook instead.

I had been aware for some time that whenever I had a free moment the phone would come out and I would spend that time scrolling through (predominantly) negative content. Intermittently I had tried ideas to reduce my scrolling time, getting rid of most of my accounts, deleting apps from my phone, trying to write instead, but nothing had properly stuck.

As I said in the blog last year, the recommendation on the social media post had been to download and read an ebook instead of scrolling. I was not sure if this would work, but decided to give it a try. I downloaded Small Gods by Terry Pratchett, and set about trying to stick to the plan.

Given I am writing this a year later you can probably guess what happened, but to be clear today is the one year anniversary of me reading ebooks instead of scrolling. Every day for the last 365 days I have read on my phone instead of doomscrolling. Today I announce the death of a doomscroller.

Great, but you are still on your phone…

I’m not sure I was 100% convinced I would make it to a year of reading instead of scrolling. As I have said above I had tried other things before which did not work. I imagined this plan would be something similar. To my surprise, it has worked.

Like any good experiment, it is important to evaluate the results. I’ve given up scrolling and replaced it with e-reading, but has it had the desired effect when I started; improve my overall wellbeing? This post is a reflection of sorts on the last year, what has changed, what I have learned, and what my plans are for the next year and beyond.

Let’s start with what you might think is the bleeding obvious…

I’ve read more

Duh!

But also, I’ve really read more. Over the last year on my phone I have read twenty books, abandoned one absolutely terrible book about 20% of the way through, and I am currently 55% of the way through my latest choice. Many of these books were Terry Pratchett books I had been wanting to read for some time, but in the last couple of months I had started to diversify a bit. I’ve also started a to-be-read pile online with a couple of books I will be tackling once I have finished The Portable Door.

I’ve really read more

As well as reading more on my phone, I have read more of the (many, many) books I have in my real life to-be-read pile. With less time spent doomscrolling on the phone, this has given me time to read, especially on an evening once the Toddler is in bed. I am currently working my way through the complete Earthsea collection, a hefty tome I might not have considered tackling a year ago for fear I would not have the time.

I’ve listened more

I am not sure if they are directly linked, but since giving up my doomscrolling, I have listened to more podcasts. Some of these are short stories, but mostly they are the selection of history shows I follow, a list which has only grown over the last year. I cannot quantify exactly how much, but I know I have spent more time listening and learning since the doomscrolling ceased.

I’m writing more

As well as having time to read, I have time on an evening to keep up to my plan to write something every day. Before, this might have been only a line or two before bed, now it can be pages of work on a good day. Over the last year I have finished one book, edited it and now I am submitting it to agents for consideration. I am also close to the first draft of a Christmas novella. Off the phone and at the keyboard has seen my productivity increase significantly.

My phone is missing me

Each Monday my phone gives me a breakdown of phone usage over the last week. Prior to giving up scrolling, this would often be to tell me my average use had gone up. Since stopping scrolling, the semi-judgemental comments have stopped, and each day I am averaging very little time on the phone. It is not just the summary which confirms my slow breakup with my phone, other than days I use my phone as a sat nav for long drives, the battery will easily last me the whole day.

I’m less connected

There is no getting around it, I am less connected to news and events taking place around the world. Now this is not necessarily a bad thing, news (social media based or otherwise) is biased towards negative stories, so less connection can be a positive thing. At the same time, being completely cut off from the world is a privileged position not everyone can afford to take. I am still using my RSS feed and checking on a news website daily for the headlines, but I only do so once a day. I am less connected, but not disconnected.

I am happier?

The purpose of the original post advising people to read more and scroll less was to improve people’s wellbeing and happiness. I did not have any worries about my mental health when I started this experiment, but I could see I would have more bad mood days when I had been heavy on the scrolling.

So am I happier a year down the line?

Probably… yes, maybe. How we feel day to day is a complex process. A big traumatic event on its own can impact how we are feeling, but smaller factors like the news we consume are not going to determine our mood alone. That being said, my outlook on life does seem a little more cheerful one year on. I certainly have a more positive view of the future than the Wife who has not changed her consumption habits. Of course the Wife’s view could be correct, everything is terrible and any positive views are deluded, but I’m sure there is a little more nuance to it, and cutting down the doomscrolling has at the very least given me a more balanced perspective.

The next 365 days

The biggest question I am left with, will I keep this up?

Short answer; yes.

Slightly longer answer; yes I will.

Actual answer which can form the conclusion of this post; yes I will keep my reading-instead-of-scrolling plan going for the next year and probably longer. Whether I will extend the plan to further replace my digital dependence is not something I have fully thought through. At the moment I am happy with the balance I have achieved, think the benefits above far outweigh the downsides, and there will be a point where I cannot switch off completely. As much as I would love to throw away the phone and live in a cabin in the woods, it’s not going to happen and time soon, and that is (probably) OK.

Death of the doomscroller

Exactly one year ago today I started a little experiment. It had been sparked by a post I had seen on social media, and ironically led to me leaving social media entirely(ish). A few days after I started the experiment I wrote about it here (eight paragraphs from the end), but in brief I decided to stop scrolling on my phone and read an ebook instead.

I had been aware for some time that whenever I had a free moment the phone would come out and I would spend that time scrolling through (predominantly) negative content. Intermittently I had tried ideas to reduce my scrolling time, getting rid of most of my accounts, deleting apps from my phone, trying to write instead, but nothing had properly stuck.

As I said in the blog last year, the recommendation on the social media post had been to download and read an ebook instead of scrolling. I was not sure if this would work, but decided to give it a try. I downloaded Small Gods by Terry Pratchett, and set about trying to stick to the plan.

Given I am writing this a year later you can probably guess what happened, but to be clear today is the one year anniversary of me reading ebooks instead of scrolling. Every day for the last 365 days I have read on my phone instead of doomscrolling. Today I announce the death of a doomscroller.

Great, but you are still on your phone…

I’m not sure I was 100% convinced I would make it to a year of reading instead of scrolling. As I have said above I had tried other things before which did not work. I imagined this plan would be something similar. To my surprise, it has worked.

Like any good experiment, it is important to evaluate the results. I’ve given up scrolling and replaced it with e-reading, but has it had the desired effect when I started; improve my overall wellbeing? This post is a reflection of sorts on the last year, what has changed, what I have learned, and what my plans are for the next year and beyond.

Let’s start with what you might think is the bleeding obvious…

I’ve read more

Duh!

But also, I’ve really read more. Over the last year on my phone I have read twenty books, abandoned one absolutely terrible book about 20% of the way through, and I am currently 55% of the way through my latest choice. Many of these books were Terry Pratchett books I had been wanting to read for some time, but in the last couple of months I had started to diversify a bit. I’ve also started a to-be-read pile online with a couple of books I will be tackling once I have finished The Portable Door.

I’ve really read more

As well as reading more on my phone, I have read more of the (many, many) books I have in my real life to-be-read pile. With less time spent doomscrolling on the phone, this has given me time to read, especially on an evening once the Toddler is in bed. I am currently working my way through the complete Earthsea collection, a hefty tome I might not have considered tackling a year ago for fear I would not have the time.

I’ve listened more

I am not sure if they are directly linked, but since giving up my doomscrolling, I have listened to more podcasts. Some of these are short stories, but mostly they are the selection of history shows I follow, a list which has only grown over the last year. I cannot quantify exactly how much, but I know I have spent more time listening and learning since the doomscrolling ceased.

I’m writing more

As well as having time to read, I have time on an evening to keep up to my plan to write something every day. Before, this might have been only a line or two before bed, now it can be pages of work on a good day. Over the last year I have finished one book, edited it and now I am submitting it to agents for consideration. I am also close to the first draft of a Christmas novella. Off the phone and at the keyboard has seen my productivity increase significantly.

My phone is missing me

Each Monday my phone gives me a breakdown of phone usage over the last week. Prior to giving up scrolling, this would often be to tell me my average use had gone up. Since stopping scrolling, the semi-judgemental comments have stopped, and each day I am averaging very little time on the phone. It is not just the summary which confirms my slow breakup with my phone, other than days I use my phone as a sat nav for long drives, the battery will easily last me the whole day.

I’m less connected

There is no getting around it, I am less connected to news and events taking place around the world. Now this is not necessarily a bad thing, news (social media based or otherwise) is biased towards negative stories, so less connection can be a positive thing. At the same time, being completely cut off from the world is a privileged position not everyone can afford to take. I am still using my RSS feed and checking on a news website daily for the headlines, but I only do so once a day. I am less connected, but not disconnected.

I am happier?

The purpose of the original post advising people to read more and scroll less was to improve people’s wellbeing and happiness. I did not have any worries about my mental health when I started this experiment, but I could see I would have more bad mood days when I had been heavy on the scrolling.

So am I happier a year down the line?

Probably… yes, maybe. How we feel day to day is a complex process. A big traumatic event on its own can impact how we are feeling, but smaller factors like the news we consume are not going to determine our mood alone. That being said, my outlook on life does seem a little more cheerful one year on. I certainly have a more positive view of the future than the Wife who has not changed her consumption habits. Of course the Wife’s view could be correct, everything is terrible and any positive views are deluded, but I’m sure there is a little more nuance to it, and cutting down the doomscrolling has at the very least given me a more balanced perspective.

The next 365 days

The biggest question I am left with, will I keep this up?

Short answer; yes.

Slightly longer answer; yes I will.

Actual answer which can form the conclusion of this post; yes I will keep my reading-instead-of-scrolling plan going for the next year and probably longer. Whether I will extend the plan to further replace my digital dependence is not something I have fully thought through. At the moment I am happy with the balance I have achieved, think the benefits above far outweigh the downsides, and there will be a point where I cannot switch off completely. As much as I would love to throw away the phone and live in a cabin in the woods, it’s not going to happen and time soon, and that is (probably) OK.

Death of the doomscroller

Exactly one year ago today I started a little experiment. It had been sparked by a post I had seen on social media, and ironically led to me leaving social media entirely(ish). A few days after I started the experiment I wrote about it here (eight paragraphs from the end), but in brief I decided to stop scrolling on my phone and read an ebook instead.

I had been aware for some time that whenever I had a free moment the phone would come out and I would spend that time scrolling through (predominantly) negative content. Intermittently I had tried ideas to reduce my scrolling time, getting rid of most of my accounts, deleting apps from my phone, trying to write instead, but nothing had properly stuck.

As I said in the blog last year, the recommendation on the social media post had been to download and read an ebook instead of scrolling. I was not sure if this would work, but decided to give it a try. I downloaded Small Gods by Terry Pratchett, and set about trying to stick to the plan.

Given I am writing this a year later you can probably guess what happened, but to be clear today is the one year anniversary of me reading ebooks instead of scrolling. Every day for the last 365 days I have read on my phone instead of doomscrolling. Today I announce the death of a doomscroller.

Great, but you are still on your phone…

I’m not sure I was 100% convinced I would make it to a year of reading instead of scrolling. As I have said above I had tried other things before which did not work. I imagined this plan would be something similar. To my surprise, it has worked.

Like any good experiment, it is important to evaluate the results. I’ve given up scrolling and replaced it with e-reading, but has it had the desired effect when I started; improve my overall wellbeing? This post is a reflection of sorts on the last year, what has changed, what I have learned, and what my plans are for the next year and beyond.

Let’s start with what you might think is the bleeding obvious…

I’ve read more

Duh!

But also, I’ve really read more. Over the last year on my phone I have read twenty books, abandoned one absolutely terrible book about 20% of the way through, and I am currently 55% of the way through my latest choice. Many of these books were Terry Pratchett books I had been wanting to read for some time, but in the last couple of months I had started to diversify a bit. I’ve also started a to-be-read pile online with a couple of books I will be tackling once I have finished The Portable Door.

I’ve really read more

As well as reading more on my phone, I have read more of the (many, many) books I have in my real life to-be-read pile. With less time spent doomscrolling on the phone, this has given me time to read, especially on an evening once the Toddler is in bed. I am currently working my way through the complete Earthsea collection, a hefty tome I might not have considered tackling a year ago for fear I would not have the time.

I’ve listened more

I am not sure if they are directly linked, but since giving up my doomscrolling, I have listened to more podcasts. Some of these are short stories, but mostly they are the selection of history shows I follow, a list which has only grown over the last year. I cannot quantify exactly how much, but I know I have spent more time listening and learning since the doomscrolling ceased.

I’m writing more

As well as having time to read, I have time on an evening to keep up to my plan to write something every day. Before, this might have been only a line or two before bed, now it can be pages of work on a good day. Over the last year I have finished one book, edited it and now I am submitting it to agents for consideration. I am also close to the first draft of a Christmas novella. Off the phone and at the keyboard has seen my productivity increase significantly.

My phone is missing me

Each Monday my phone gives me a breakdown of phone usage over the last week. Prior to giving up scrolling, this would often be to tell me my average use had gone up. Since stopping scrolling, the semi-judgemental comments have stopped, and each day I am averaging very little time on the phone. It is not just the summary which confirms my slow breakup with my phone, other than days I use my phone as a sat nav for long drives, the battery will easily last me the whole day.

I’m less connected

There is no getting around it, I am less connected to news and events taking place around the world. Now this is not necessarily a bad thing, news (social media based or otherwise) is biased towards negative stories, so less connection can be a positive thing. At the same time, being completely cut off from the world is a privileged position not everyone can afford to take. I am still using my RSS feed and checking on a news website daily for the headlines, but I only do so once a day. I am less connected, but not disconnected.

I am happier?

The purpose of the original post advising people to read more and scroll less was to improve people’s wellbeing and happiness. I did not have any worries about my mental health when I started this experiment, but I could see I would have more bad mood days when I had been heavy on the scrolling.

So am I happier a year down the line?

Probably… yes, maybe. How we feel day to day is a complex process. A big traumatic event on its own can impact how we are feeling, but smaller factors like the news we consume are not going to determine our mood alone. That being said, my outlook on life does seem a little more cheerful one year on. I certainly have a more positive view of the future than the Wife who has not changed her consumption habits. Of course the Wife’s view could be correct, everything is terrible and any positive views are deluded, but I’m sure there is a little more nuance to it, and cutting down the doomscrolling has at the very least given me a more balanced perspective.

The next 365 days

The biggest question I am left with, will I keep this up?

Short answer; yes.

Slightly longer answer; yes I will.

Actual answer which can form the conclusion of this post; yes I will keep my reading-instead-of-scrolling plan going for the next year and probably longer. Whether I will extend the plan to further replace my digital dependence is not something I have fully thought through. At the moment I am happy with the balance I have achieved, think the benefits above far outweigh the downsides, and there will be a point where I cannot switch off completely. As much as I would love to throw away the phone and live in a cabin in the woods, it’s not going to happen and time soon, and that is (probably) OK.

Death of the doomscroller

Exactly one year ago today I started a little experiment. It had been sparked by a post I had seen on social media, and ironically led to me leaving social media entirely(ish). A few days after I started the experiment I wrote about it here (eight paragraphs from the end), but in brief I decided to stop scrolling on my phone and read an ebook instead.

I had been aware for some time that whenever I had a free moment the phone would come out and I would spend that time scrolling through (predominantly) negative content. Intermittently I had tried ideas to reduce my scrolling time, getting rid of most of my accounts, deleting apps from my phone, trying to write instead, but nothing had properly stuck.

As I said in the blog last year, the recommendation on the social media post had been to download and read an ebook instead of scrolling. I was not sure if this would work, but decided to give it a try. I downloaded Small Gods by Terry Pratchett, and set about trying to stick to the plan.

Given I am writing this a year later you can probably guess what happened, but to be clear today is the one year anniversary of me reading ebooks instead of scrolling. Every day for the last 365 days I have read on my phone instead of doomscrolling. Today I announce the death of a doomscroller.

Great, but you are still on your phone…

I’m not sure I was 100% convinced I would make it to a year of reading instead of scrolling. As I have said above I had tried other things before which did not work. I imagined this plan would be something similar. To my surprise, it has worked.

Like any good experiment, it is important to evaluate the results. I’ve given up scrolling and replaced it with e-reading, but has it had the desired effect when I started; improve my overall wellbeing? This post is a reflection of sorts on the last year, what has changed, what I have learned, and what my plans are for the next year and beyond.

Let’s start with what you might think is the bleeding obvious…

I’ve read more

Duh!

But also, I’ve really read more. Over the last year on my phone I have read twenty books, abandoned one absolutely terrible book about 20% of the way through, and I am currently 55% of the way through my latest choice. Many of these books were Terry Pratchett books I had been wanting to read for some time, but in the last couple of months I had started to diversify a bit. I’ve also started a to-be-read pile online with a couple of books I will be tackling once I have finished The Portable Door.

I’ve really read more

As well as reading more on my phone, I have read more of the (many, many) books I have in my real life to-be-read pile. With less time spent doomscrolling on the phone, this has given me time to read, especially on an evening once the Toddler is in bed. I am currently working my way through the complete Earthsea collection, a hefty tome I might not have considered tackling a year ago for fear I would not have the time.

I’ve listened more

I am not sure if they are directly linked, but since giving up my doomscrolling, I have listened to more podcasts. Some of these are short stories, but mostly they are the selection of history shows I follow, a list which has only grown over the last year. I cannot quantify exactly how much, but I know I have spent more time listening and learning since the doomscrolling ceased.

I’m writing more

As well as having time to read, I have time on an evening to keep up to my plan to write something every day. Before, this might have been only a line or two before bed, now it can be pages of work on a good day. Over the last year I have finished one book, edited it and now I am submitting it to agents for consideration. I am also close to the first draft of a Christmas novella. Off the phone and at the keyboard has seen my productivity increase significantly.

My phone is missing me

Each Monday my phone gives me a breakdown of phone usage over the last week. Prior to giving up scrolling, this would often be to tell me my average use had gone up. Since stopping scrolling, the semi-judgemental comments have stopped, and each day I am averaging very little time on the phone. It is not just the summary which confirms my slow breakup with my phone, other than days I use my phone as a sat nav for long drives, the battery will easily last me the whole day.

I’m less connected

There is no getting around it, I am less connected to news and events taking place around the world. Now this is not necessarily a bad thing, news (social media based or otherwise) is biased towards negative stories, so less connection can be a positive thing. At the same time, being completely cut off from the world is a privileged position not everyone can afford to take. I am still using my RSS feed and checking on a news website daily for the headlines, but I only do so once a day. I am less connected, but not disconnected.

I am happier?

The purpose of the original post advising people to read more and scroll less was to improve people’s wellbeing and happiness. I did not have any worries about my mental health when I started this experiment, but I could see I would have more bad mood days when I had been heavy on the scrolling.

So am I happier a year down the line?

Probably… yes, maybe. How we feel day to day is a complex process. A big traumatic event on its own can impact how we are feeling, but smaller factors like the news we consume are not going to determine our mood alone. That being said, my outlook on life does seem a little more cheerful one year on. I certainly have a more positive view of the future than the Wife who has not changed her consumption habits. Of course the Wife’s view could be correct, everything is terrible and any positive views are deluded, but I’m sure there is a little more nuance to it, and cutting down the doomscrolling has at the very least given me a more balanced perspective.

The next 365 days

The biggest question I am left with, will I keep this up?

Short answer; yes.

Slightly longer answer; yes I will.

Actual answer which can form the conclusion of this post; yes I will keep my reading-instead-of-scrolling plan going for the next year and probably longer. Whether I will extend the plan to further replace my digital dependence is not something I have fully thought through. At the moment I am happy with the balance I have achieved, think the benefits above far outweigh the downsides, and there will be a point where I cannot switch off completely. As much as I would love to throw away the phone and live in a cabin in the woods, it’s not going to happen and time soon, and that is (probably) OK.

Prien will rasche EU-Auflagen für #SocialMedia | heise online https://www.heise.de/news/Prien-will-rasche-EU-Auflagen-fuer-Social-Media-11211728.html #SocialMediaVerbot #Bildung #education #Medienkompetenz #Digitalkompetenz #HateSpeech #Hassrede #DoomScrolling #SocialMediaBan

@PicardTips William T. Riker is an honest man. He can't pretend, so he doomscrolls.
#riker #startrek #tng #doomscrolling

@PicardTips William T. Riker is an honest man. He can't pretend, so he doomscrolls.
#riker #startrek #tng #doomscrolling

das menachliche Hirn ist das Problem - zu geringe bullshit Penetrationshürden

#bigtech #privacy #marketing #werbung #populismus #propaganda #rechtsfaschismus #meinungsfreiheit #datenschutz #sozialenetzwerke #brainrot #doomscrolling #hatespeech #shitstorm #fakten #fakenews #manipulation #tracking #profiling

das menachliche Hirn ist das Problem - zu geringe bullshit Penetrationshürden

#bigtech #privacy #marketing #werbung #populismus #propaganda #rechtsfaschismus #meinungsfreiheit #datenschutz #sozialenetzwerke #brainrot #doomscrolling #hatespeech #shitstorm #fakten #fakenews #manipulation #tracking #profiling

Xennials' 'hinge' position may make them better equipped to handle the current world

https://web.brid.gy/r/https://www.upworthy.com/xennials-hinge-position-better-equipped

Xennials' 'hinge' position may make them better equipped to handle the current world

https://fed.brid.gy/r/https://www.upworthy.com/xennials-hinge-position-better-equipped

Xennials' 'hinge' position may make them better equipped to handle the current world

https://web.brid.gy/r/https://www.upworthy.com/xennials-hinge-position-better-equipped

Xennials' 'hinge' position may make them better equipped to handle the current world

https://web.brid.gy/r/https://www.upworthy.com/xennials-hinge-position-better-equipped

I'll be fediversing

https://piefed.kobel.fyi/c/fedimemes/p/43034/i-ll-be-fediversing

I'll be fediversing

https://piefed.kobel.fyi/c/fedimemes/p/43034/i-ll-be-fediversing

I'll be fediversing

https://piefed.kobel.fyi/c/fedimemes/p/43034/i-ll-be-fediversing

I'll be fediversing

https://piefed.kobel.fyi/c/fedimemes/p/43034/i-ll-be-fediversing

I'll be fediversing

TikTok ahora te dará insignias por amojonar tu doomscrolling #ahora #bienestar_digital #dará #doomscrolling #insignias #limitar #por #seguridad_de_los_adolescentes #tiempo_frente_a_la_pantalla #TikTok #ButterWord #Spanish_News Comenta tu opinión 👇
https://butterword.com/tiktok-ahora-te-dara-insignias-por-amojonar-tu-doomscrolling/?feed_id=55127&_unique_id=691d699bcc31b

TikTok ahora te dará insignias por amojonar tu doomscrolling #ahora #bienestar_digital #dará #doomscrolling #insignias #limitar #por #seguridad_de_los_adolescentes #tiempo_frente_a_la_pantalla #TikTok #ButterWord #Spanish_News Comenta tu opinión 👇
https://butterword.com/tiktok-ahora-te-dara-insignias-por-amojonar-tu-doomscrolling/?feed_id=55127&_unique_id=691d699bcc31b

TikTok ahora te dará insignias por amojonar tu doomscrolling #ahora #bienestar_digital #dará #doomscrolling #insignias #limitar #por #seguridad_de_los_adolescentes #tiempo_frente_a_la_pantalla #TikTok #ButterWord #Spanish_News Comenta tu opinión 👇
https://butterword.com/tiktok-ahora-te-dara-insignias-por-amojonar-tu-doomscrolling/?feed_id=55127&_unique_id=691d699bcc31b

TikTok ahora te dará insignias por amojonar tu doomscrolling #ahora #bienestar_digital #dará #doomscrolling #insignias #limitar #por #seguridad_de_los_adolescentes #tiempo_frente_a_la_pantalla #TikTok #ButterWord #Spanish_News Comenta tu opinión 👇
https://butterword.com/tiktok-ahora-te-dara-insignias-por-amojonar-tu-doomscrolling/?feed_id=55127&_unique_id=691d699bcc31b

The Small God of the Internet

It was a small announcement on an innocuous page about “spring cleaning”. The herald, some guy with the kind of name that promised he was all yours. Four sentences you only find because you were already looking for a shortcuts through life. A paragraph, tidy as a folded handkerchief, explained that a certain popular reader of feeds was retiring in four months’ time. Somewhere in the draughty back alleys of the web, a small god cleared his throat. Once he had roared every morning in a thousand offices. Now, when people clicked for their daily liturgy, the sound he made was… domesticated.

He is called ArrEsEs by those who enjoy syllables. He wears a round orange halo with three neat ripples in it. Strictly speaking, this is an icon1, but gods are not strict about these things. He presides over the River of Posts, which is less picturesque than it sounds and runs through everyone’s house at once. His priests are librarians and tinkerers and persons who believe in putting things in order so they can be pleasantly disordered later. The temple benches are arranged in feeds. The chief sacrament is “Mark All As Read,” which is the kind of absolution that leaves you lighter and vaguely suspicious you’ve got away with something.

There was a time the great city-temples kept a candle lit for him right on their threshold. The Fox of Fire invited him in and called it Live Bookmarks.2 The moldable church, once a suit, then a car, then a journey, in typical style stamped “RSS” beside the address like a house number. The Explorer adopted the little orange beacon with the enthusiasm of someone who has been told there will be cake. The Singers built him a pew and handed out hymnals. You could walk into almost any shrine and find his votive lamp glowing: “The river comes this way.” Later, accountants, the men behind the man who was yours, discovered that candles are unmonetizable and, one by one, the lamps were tidied into drawers that say “More…”.

ArrEsEs has lineage. Long before he knocked on doors with a bundle of headlines, there was Old Mother Press, the iron-fingered goddess of moveable type, patron of ink that bites and paper that complains. Her creed was simple: get the word out. She marched letters into columns and columns into broadsides until villages woke up arguing the same argument.3* ArrEsEs is her great-grandchild—quick-footed, soft-spoken—who learned to carry the broadsheet to each door at once and wait politely on the mat. He still bears her family look: text in tidy rows, dates that mind their place, headlines that know how to stand up straight.**

Four months after the Announcement, the big temple shut its doors with a soft click. The congregation wandered off in small, stubborn knots and started chapels in back rooms with unhelpful names like OGRP4. ArrEsEs took to traveling again, coat collar up, suitcase full of headlines, knocking on back doors at respectable intervals. “No hurry,” he would say, leaving the bundle on the step. “When you’re ready.” The larger gods of the Square ring bells until you come out in your slippers; this one waits with the patience of bread.

Like all small gods, he thrives on little rites. He smiles when you put his name plainly on your door: a link that says feed without a blush. He approves of bogrolls blogrolls, because they are how villages point at one another and remember they are villages. He warms to OPML, which is a pilgrim’s list people swap like seed packets. He’s indulgent about the details—/rss.xml, /atom.xml, /feed, he will answer to all of them—but he purrs (quietly; dignified creature) for a cleanly formed offering and a sensible update cadence5.

His miracles are modest and cannot be tallied on a quarterly slide. He brings things in the order they happened. He does silence properly. The river arrives in the morning with twenty-seven items; you read two, save three, and let the rest drift by with the calm certainty that rivers do not take offense. He remembers what you finished. He promises tomorrow will come with its own bundle, and if you happen to be away, he will keep the stack neat and not wedge a “You Might Also Like” leaflet between your socks.

These days, though, ArrEsEs is lean at the ribs. The big estates threw dams across his tributaries and called them platforms. Good water disappeared behind walls; the rest was coaxed into ornamental channels that loop the palace and reflect only the palace. Where streams once argued cheerfully, they now mutter through sluices and churn a Gloomwheel that turns and turns without making flour—an endless thumb-crank that insists there is more, and worse, if you’ll just keep scrolling. He can drink from it, but it leaves a taste of tin and yesterday’s news.

A god’s displeasure tells you more than his blessings. His is mild. If you hide the feed, he grows thin around the edges. If you build a house that is only a façade until seven JSters haul in the furniture, he coughs and brings you only the headline and a smell of varnish6. If you replace paragraphs with an endless corridor, he develops the kind of seasickness that keeps old sailors ashore. He does not smite. He sulks, which is worse, because you may not notice until you wonder where everyone went.

Still, belief has a way of pooling in low places. In the quiet hours, the little chapels hum: home pages with kettles on, personal sites that remember how to wave, gardeners who publish their lists of other gardeners. Somewhere, a reader you’ve never met presses a small, homely button that says subscribe. The god straightens, just a touch. He is gentler than his grandmother who rattled windows with every edition, but the family gift endures. If you invite him, tomorrow he will be there, on your step, with a bundle of fresh pages and a polite cough. You can let him in, or make tea first. He’ll wait. He always has.

Heavily edited sloptraption.

1. He maintains it’s saffron, which is what halos say when they are trying to be practical ↩︎
2. The sort of feature named by a librarian, which is to say, both accurate and doomed. ↩︎
3. Not to be confused with the software that borrowed her title and a fair chunk of her patience. ↩︎
4. Old Google Reader People ↩︎
5. On festival days he will accept serif, sans-serif, or whatever the village printer has not yet thrown at a cat.
   ↩︎
6. He can drink JSON when pressed; stew remains his preference. ↩︎

#AI #algorithmicFeeds #blogging #blogrolls #Discworld #doomscrolling #feedReaders #GoogleReader #history #IndieWeb #internetFolklore #openWeb #OPML #personalWebsites #philosophy #POSSE #printingPress #quietWeb #RSS #smallGods #TerryPratchett #webStandards #writing

The Small God of the Internet

It was a small announcement on an innocuous page about “spring cleaning”. The herald, some guy with the kind of name that promised he was all yours. Four sentences you only find because you were already looking for a shortcuts through life. A paragraph, tidy as a folded handkerchief, explained that a certain popular reader of feeds was retiring in four months’ time. Somewhere in the draughty back alleys of the web, a small god cleared his throat. Once he had roared every morning in a thousand offices. Now, when people clicked for their daily liturgy, the sound he made was… domesticated.

He is called ArrEsEs by those who enjoy syllables. He wears a round orange halo with three neat ripples in it. Strictly speaking, this is an icon1, but gods are not strict about these things. He presides over the River of Posts, which is less picturesque than it sounds and runs through everyone’s house at once. His priests are librarians and tinkerers and persons who believe in putting things in order so they can be pleasantly disordered later. The temple benches are arranged in feeds. The chief sacrament is “Mark All As Read,” which is the kind of absolution that leaves you lighter and vaguely suspicious you’ve got away with something.

There was a time the great city-temples kept a candle lit for him right on their threshold. The Fox of Fire invited him in and called it Live Bookmarks.2 The moldable church, once a suit, then a car, then a journey, in typical style stamped “RSS” beside the address like a house number. The Explorer adopted the little orange beacon with the enthusiasm of someone who has been told there will be cake. The Singers built him a pew and handed out hymnals. You could walk into almost any shrine and find his votive lamp glowing: “The river comes this way.” Later, accountants, the men behind the man who was yours, discovered that candles are unmonetizable and, one by one, the lamps were tidied into drawers that say “More…”.

ArrEsEs has lineage. Long before he knocked on doors with a bundle of headlines, there was Old Mother Press, the iron-fingered goddess of moveable type, patron of ink that bites and paper that complains. Her creed was simple: get the word out. She marched letters into columns and columns into broadsides until villages woke up arguing the same argument.3* ArrEsEs is her great-grandchild—quick-footed, soft-spoken—who learned to carry the broadsheet to each door at once and wait politely on the mat. He still bears her family look: text in tidy rows, dates that mind their place, headlines that know how to stand up straight.**

Four months after the Announcement, the big temple shut its doors with a soft click. The congregation wandered off in small, stubborn knots and started chapels in back rooms with unhelpful names like OGRP4. ArrEsEs took to traveling again, coat collar up, suitcase full of headlines, knocking on back doors at respectable intervals. “No hurry,” he would say, leaving the bundle on the step. “When you’re ready.” The larger gods of the Square ring bells until you come out in your slippers; this one waits with the patience of bread.

Like all small gods, he thrives on little rites. He smiles when you put his name plainly on your door: a link that says feed without a blush. He approves of bogrolls blogrolls, because they are how villages point at one another and remember they are villages. He warms to OPML, which is a pilgrim’s list people swap like seed packets. He’s indulgent about the details—/rss.xml, /atom.xml, /feed, he will answer to all of them—but he purrs (quietly; dignified creature) for a cleanly formed offering and a sensible update cadence5.

His miracles are modest and cannot be tallied on a quarterly slide. He brings things in the order they happened. He does silence properly. The river arrives in the morning with twenty-seven items; you read two, save three, and let the rest drift by with the calm certainty that rivers do not take offense. He remembers what you finished. He promises tomorrow will come with its own bundle, and if you happen to be away, he will keep the stack neat and not wedge a “You Might Also Like” leaflet between your socks.

These days, though, ArrEsEs is lean at the ribs. The big estates threw dams across his tributaries and called them platforms. Good water disappeared behind walls; the rest was coaxed into ornamental channels that loop the palace and reflect only the palace. Where streams once argued cheerfully, they now mutter through sluices and churn a Gloomwheel that turns and turns without making flour—an endless thumb-crank that insists there is more, and worse, if you’ll just keep scrolling. He can drink from it, but it leaves a taste of tin and yesterday’s news.

A god’s displeasure tells you more than his blessings. His is mild. If you hide the feed, he grows thin around the edges. If you build a house that is only a façade until seven JSters haul in the furniture, he coughs and brings you only the headline and a smell of varnish6. If you replace paragraphs with an endless corridor, he develops the kind of seasickness that keeps old sailors ashore. He does not smite. He sulks, which is worse, because you may not notice until you wonder where everyone went.

Still, belief has a way of pooling in low places. In the quiet hours, the little chapels hum: home pages with kettles on, personal sites that remember how to wave, gardeners who publish their lists of other gardeners. Somewhere, a reader you’ve never met presses a small, homely button that says subscribe. The god straightens, just a touch. He is gentler than his grandmother who rattled windows with every edition, but the family gift endures. If you invite him, tomorrow he will be there, on your step, with a bundle of fresh pages and a polite cough. You can let him in, or make tea first. He’ll wait. He always has.

Heavily edited sloptraption.

1. He maintains it’s saffron, which is what halos say when they are trying to be practical ↩︎
2. The sort of feature named by a librarian, which is to say, both accurate and doomed. ↩︎
3. Not to be confused with the software that borrowed her title and a fair chunk of her patience. ↩︎
4. Old Google Reader People ↩︎
5. On festival days he will accept serif, sans-serif, or whatever the village printer has not yet thrown at a cat.
   ↩︎
6. He can drink JSON when pressed; stew remains his preference. ↩︎

#AI #algorithmicFeeds #blogging #blogrolls #Discworld #doomscrolling #feedReaders #GoogleReader #history #IndieWeb #internetFolklore #openWeb #OPML #personalWebsites #philosophy #POSSE #printingPress #quietWeb #RSS #smallGods #TerryPratchett #webStandards #writing

The Small God of the Internet

It was a small announcement on an innocuous page about “spring cleaning”. The herald, some guy with the kind of name that promised he was all yours. Four sentences you only find because you were already looking for a shortcuts through life. A paragraph, tidy as a folded handkerchief, explained that a certain popular reader of feeds was retiring in four months’ time. Somewhere in the draughty back alleys of the web, a small god cleared his throat. Once he had roared every morning in a thousand offices. Now, when people clicked for their daily liturgy, the sound he made was… domesticated.

He is called ArrEsEs by those who enjoy syllables. He wears a round orange halo with three neat ripples in it. Strictly speaking, this is an icon1, but gods are not strict about these things. He presides over the River of Posts, which is less picturesque than it sounds and runs through everyone’s house at once. His priests are librarians and tinkerers and persons who believe in putting things in order so they can be pleasantly disordered later. The temple benches are arranged in feeds. The chief sacrament is “Mark All As Read,” which is the kind of absolution that leaves you lighter and vaguely suspicious you’ve got away with something.

There was a time the great city-temples kept a candle lit for him right on their threshold. The Fox of Fire invited him in and called it Live Bookmarks.2 The moldable church, once a suit, then a car, then a journey, in typical style stamped “RSS” beside the address like a house number. The Explorer adopted the little orange beacon with the enthusiasm of someone who has been told there will be cake. The Singers built him a pew and handed out hymnals. You could walk into almost any shrine and find his votive lamp glowing: “The river comes this way.” Later, accountants, the men behind the man who was yours, discovered that candles are unmonetizable and, one by one, the lamps were tidied into drawers that say “More…”.

ArrEsEs has lineage. Long before he knocked on doors with a bundle of headlines, there was Old Mother Press, the iron-fingered goddess of moveable type, patron of ink that bites and paper that complains. Her creed was simple: get the word out. She marched letters into columns and columns into broadsides until villages woke up arguing the same argument.3* ArrEsEs is her great-grandchild—quick-footed, soft-spoken—who learned to carry the broadsheet to each door at once and wait politely on the mat. He still bears her family look: text in tidy rows, dates that mind their place, headlines that know how to stand up straight.**

Four months after the Announcement, the big temple shut its doors with a soft click. The congregation wandered off in small, stubborn knots and started chapels in back rooms with unhelpful names like OGRP4. ArrEsEs took to traveling again, coat collar up, suitcase full of headlines, knocking on back doors at respectable intervals. “No hurry,” he would say, leaving the bundle on the step. “When you’re ready.” The larger gods of the Square ring bells until you come out in your slippers; this one waits with the patience of bread.

Like all small gods, he thrives on little rites. He smiles when you put his name plainly on your door: a link that says feed without a blush. He approves of bogrolls blogrolls, because they are how villages point at one another and remember they are villages. He warms to OPML, which is a pilgrim’s list people swap like seed packets. He’s indulgent about the details—/rss.xml, /atom.xml, /feed, he will answer to all of them—but he purrs (quietly; dignified creature) for a cleanly formed offering and a sensible update cadence5.

His miracles are modest and cannot be tallied on a quarterly slide. He brings things in the order they happened. He does silence properly. The river arrives in the morning with twenty-seven items; you read two, save three, and let the rest drift by with the calm certainty that rivers do not take offense. He remembers what you finished. He promises tomorrow will come with its own bundle, and if you happen to be away, he will keep the stack neat and not wedge a “You Might Also Like” leaflet between your socks.

These days, though, ArrEsEs is lean at the ribs. The big estates threw dams across his tributaries and called them platforms. Good water disappeared behind walls; the rest was coaxed into ornamental channels that loop the palace and reflect only the palace. Where streams once argued cheerfully, they now mutter through sluices and churn a Gloomwheel that turns and turns without making flour—an endless thumb-crank that insists there is more, and worse, if you’ll just keep scrolling. He can drink from it, but it leaves a taste of tin and yesterday’s news.

A god’s displeasure tells you more than his blessings. His is mild. If you hide the feed, he grows thin around the edges. If you build a house that is only a façade until seven JSters haul in the furniture, he coughs and brings you only the headline and a smell of varnish6. If you replace paragraphs with an endless corridor, he develops the kind of seasickness that keeps old sailors ashore. He does not smite. He sulks, which is worse, because you may not notice until you wonder where everyone went.

Still, belief has a way of pooling in low places. In the quiet hours, the little chapels hum: home pages with kettles on, personal sites that remember how to wave, gardeners who publish their lists of other gardeners. Somewhere, a reader you’ve never met presses a small, homely button that says subscribe. The god straightens, just a touch. He is gentler than his grandmother who rattled windows with every edition, but the family gift endures. If you invite him, tomorrow he will be there, on your step, with a bundle of fresh pages and a polite cough. You can let him in, or make tea first. He’ll wait. He always has.

Heavily edited sloptraption.

1. He maintains it’s saffron, which is what halos say when they are trying to be practical ↩︎
2. The sort of feature named by a librarian, which is to say, both accurate and doomed. ↩︎
3. Not to be confused with the software that borrowed her title and a fair chunk of her patience. ↩︎
4. Old Google Reader People ↩︎
5. On festival days he will accept serif, sans-serif, or whatever the village printer has not yet thrown at a cat.
   ↩︎
6. He can drink JSON when pressed; stew remains his preference. ↩︎

#AI #algorithmicFeeds #blogging #blogrolls #Discworld #doomscrolling #feedReaders #GoogleReader #history #IndieWeb #internetFolklore #openWeb #OPML #personalWebsites #philosophy #POSSE #printingPress #quietWeb #RSS #smallGods #TerryPratchett #webStandards #writing

The Small God of the Internet

It was a small announcement on an innocuous page about “spring cleaning”. The herald, some guy with the kind of name that promised he was all yours. Four sentences you only find because you were already looking for a shortcuts through life. A paragraph, tidy as a folded handkerchief, explained that a certain popular reader of feeds was retiring in four months’ time. Somewhere in the draughty back alleys of the web, a small god cleared his throat. Once he had roared every morning in a thousand offices. Now, when people clicked for their daily liturgy, the sound he made was… domesticated.

He is called ArrEsEs by those who enjoy syllables. He wears a round orange halo with three neat ripples in it. Strictly speaking, this is an icon1, but gods are not strict about these things. He presides over the River of Posts, which is less picturesque than it sounds and runs through everyone’s house at once. His priests are librarians and tinkerers and persons who believe in putting things in order so they can be pleasantly disordered later. The temple benches are arranged in feeds. The chief sacrament is “Mark All As Read,” which is the kind of absolution that leaves you lighter and vaguely suspicious you’ve got away with something.

There was a time the great city-temples kept a candle lit for him right on their threshold. The Fox of Fire invited him in and called it Live Bookmarks.2 The moldable church, once a suit, then a car, then a journey, in typical style stamped “RSS” beside the address like a house number. The Explorer adopted the little orange beacon with the enthusiasm of someone who has been told there will be cake. The Singers built him a pew and handed out hymnals. You could walk into almost any shrine and find his votive lamp glowing: “The river comes this way.” Later, accountants, the men behind the man who was yours, discovered that candles are unmonetizable and, one by one, the lamps were tidied into drawers that say “More…”.

ArrEsEs has lineage. Long before he knocked on doors with a bundle of headlines, there was Old Mother Press, the iron-fingered goddess of moveable type, patron of ink that bites and paper that complains. Her creed was simple: get the word out. She marched letters into columns and columns into broadsides until villages woke up arguing the same argument.3* ArrEsEs is her great-grandchild—quick-footed, soft-spoken—who learned to carry the broadsheet to each door at once and wait politely on the mat. He still bears her family look: text in tidy rows, dates that mind their place, headlines that know how to stand up straight.**

Four months after the Announcement, the big temple shut its doors with a soft click. The congregation wandered off in small, stubborn knots and started chapels in back rooms with unhelpful names like OGRP4. ArrEsEs took to traveling again, coat collar up, suitcase full of headlines, knocking on back doors at respectable intervals. “No hurry,” he would say, leaving the bundle on the step. “When you’re ready.” The larger gods of the Square ring bells until you come out in your slippers; this one waits with the patience of bread.

Like all small gods, he thrives on little rites. He smiles when you put his name plainly on your door: a link that says feed without a blush. He approves of bogrolls blogrolls, because they are how villages point at one another and remember they are villages. He warms to OPML, which is a pilgrim’s list people swap like seed packets. He’s indulgent about the details—/rss.xml, /atom.xml, /feed, he will answer to all of them—but he purrs (quietly; dignified creature) for a cleanly formed offering and a sensible update cadence5.

His miracles are modest and cannot be tallied on a quarterly slide. He brings things in the order they happened. He does silence properly. The river arrives in the morning with twenty-seven items; you read two, save three, and let the rest drift by with the calm certainty that rivers do not take offense. He remembers what you finished. He promises tomorrow will come with its own bundle, and if you happen to be away, he will keep the stack neat and not wedge a “You Might Also Like” leaflet between your socks.

These days, though, ArrEsEs is lean at the ribs. The big estates threw dams across his tributaries and called them platforms. Good water disappeared behind walls; the rest was coaxed into ornamental channels that loop the palace and reflect only the palace. Where streams once argued cheerfully, they now mutter through sluices and churn a Gloomwheel that turns and turns without making flour—an endless thumb-crank that insists there is more, and worse, if you’ll just keep scrolling. He can drink from it, but it leaves a taste of tin and yesterday’s news.

A god’s displeasure tells you more than his blessings. His is mild. If you hide the feed, he grows thin around the edges. If you build a house that is only a façade until seven JSters haul in the furniture, he coughs and brings you only the headline and a smell of varnish6. If you replace paragraphs with an endless corridor, he develops the kind of seasickness that keeps old sailors ashore. He does not smite. He sulks, which is worse, because you may not notice until you wonder where everyone went.

Still, belief has a way of pooling in low places. In the quiet hours, the little chapels hum: home pages with kettles on, personal sites that remember how to wave, gardeners who publish their lists of other gardeners. Somewhere, a reader you’ve never met presses a small, homely button that says subscribe. The god straightens, just a touch. He is gentler than his grandmother who rattled windows with every edition, but the family gift endures. If you invite him, tomorrow he will be there, on your step, with a bundle of fresh pages and a polite cough. You can let him in, or make tea first. He’ll wait. He always has.

Heavily edited sloptraption.

1. He maintains it’s saffron, which is what halos say when they are trying to be practical ↩︎
2. The sort of feature named by a librarian, which is to say, both accurate and doomed. ↩︎
3. Not to be confused with the software that borrowed her title and a fair chunk of her patience. ↩︎
4. Old Google Reader People ↩︎
5. On festival days he will accept serif, sans-serif, or whatever the village printer has not yet thrown at a cat.
   ↩︎
6. He can drink JSON when pressed; stew remains his preference. ↩︎

#AI #algorithmicFeeds #blogging #blogrolls #Discworld #doomscrolling #feedReaders #GoogleReader #history #IndieWeb #internetFolklore #openWeb #OPML #personalWebsites #philosophy #POSSE #printingPress #quietWeb #RSS #smallGods #TerryPratchett #webStandards #writing

The Small God of the Internet

It was a small announcement on an innocuous page about “spring cleaning”. The herald, some guy with the kind of name that promised he was all yours. Four sentences you only find because you were already looking for a shortcuts through life. A paragraph, tidy as a folded handkerchief, explained that a certain popular reader of feeds was retiring in four months’ time. Somewhere in the draughty back alleys of the web, a small god cleared his throat. Once he had roared every morning in a thousand offices. Now, when people clicked for their daily liturgy, the sound he made was… domesticated.

He is called ArrEsEs by those who enjoy syllables. He wears a round orange halo with three neat ripples in it. Strictly speaking, this is an icon1, but gods are not strict about these things. He presides over the River of Posts, which is less picturesque than it sounds and runs through everyone’s house at once. His priests are librarians and tinkerers and persons who believe in putting things in order so they can be pleasantly disordered later. The temple benches are arranged in feeds. The chief sacrament is “Mark All As Read,” which is the kind of absolution that leaves you lighter and vaguely suspicious you’ve got away with something.

There was a time the great city-temples kept a candle lit for him right on their threshold. The Fox of Fire invited him in and called it Live Bookmarks.2 The moldable church, once a suit, then a car, then a journey, in typical style stamped “RSS” beside the address like a house number. The Explorer adopted the little orange beacon with the enthusiasm of someone who has been told there will be cake. The Singers built him a pew and handed out hymnals. You could walk into almost any shrine and find his votive lamp glowing: “The river comes this way.” Later, accountants, the men behind the man who was yours, discovered that candles are unmonetizable and, one by one, the lamps were tidied into drawers that say “More…”.

ArrEsEs has lineage. Long before he knocked on doors with a bundle of headlines, there was Old Mother Press, the iron-fingered goddess of moveable type, patron of ink that bites and paper that complains. Her creed was simple: get the word out. She marched letters into columns and columns into broadsides until villages woke up arguing the same argument.3* ArrEsEs is her great-grandchild—quick-footed, soft-spoken—who learned to carry the broadsheet to each door at once and wait politely on the mat. He still bears her family look: text in tidy rows, dates that mind their place, headlines that know how to stand up straight.**

Four months after the Announcement, the big temple shut its doors with a soft click. The congregation wandered off in small, stubborn knots and started chapels in back rooms with unhelpful names like OGRP4. ArrEsEs took to traveling again, coat collar up, suitcase full of headlines, knocking on back doors at respectable intervals. “No hurry,” he would say, leaving the bundle on the step. “When you’re ready.” The larger gods of the Square ring bells until you come out in your slippers; this one waits with the patience of bread.

Like all small gods, he thrives on little rites. He smiles when you put his name plainly on your door: a link that says feed without a blush. He approves of bogrolls blogrolls, because they are how villages point at one another and remember they are villages. He warms to OPML, which is a pilgrim’s list people swap like seed packets. He’s indulgent about the details—/rss.xml, /atom.xml, /feed, he will answer to all of them—but he purrs (quietly; dignified creature) for a cleanly formed offering and a sensible update cadence5.

His miracles are modest and cannot be tallied on a quarterly slide. He brings things in the order they happened. He does silence properly. The river arrives in the morning with twenty-seven items; you read two, save three, and let the rest drift by with the calm certainty that rivers do not take offense. He remembers what you finished. He promises tomorrow will come with its own bundle, and if you happen to be away, he will keep the stack neat and not wedge a “You Might Also Like” leaflet between your socks.

These days, though, ArrEsEs is lean at the ribs. The big estates threw dams across his tributaries and called them platforms. Good water disappeared behind walls; the rest was coaxed into ornamental channels that loop the palace and reflect only the palace. Where streams once argued cheerfully, they now mutter through sluices and churn a Gloomwheel that turns and turns without making flour—an endless thumb-crank that insists there is more, and worse, if you’ll just keep scrolling. He can drink from it, but it leaves a taste of tin and yesterday’s news.

A god’s displeasure tells you more than his blessings. His is mild. If you hide the feed, he grows thin around the edges. If you build a house that is only a façade until seven JSters haul in the furniture, he coughs and brings you only the headline and a smell of varnish6. If you replace paragraphs with an endless corridor, he develops the kind of seasickness that keeps old sailors ashore. He does not smite. He sulks, which is worse, because you may not notice until you wonder where everyone went.

Still, belief has a way of pooling in low places. In the quiet hours, the little chapels hum: home pages with kettles on, personal sites that remember how to wave, gardeners who publish their lists of other gardeners. Somewhere, a reader you’ve never met presses a small, homely button that says subscribe. The god straightens, just a touch. He is gentler than his grandmother who rattled windows with every edition, but the family gift endures. If you invite him, tomorrow he will be there, on your step, with a bundle of fresh pages and a polite cough. You can let him in, or make tea first. He’ll wait. He always has.

Heavily edited sloptraption.

1. He maintains it’s saffron, which is what halos say when they are trying to be practical ↩︎
2. The sort of feature named by a librarian, which is to say, both accurate and doomed. ↩︎
3. Not to be confused with the software that borrowed her title and a fair chunk of her patience. ↩︎
4. Old Google Reader People ↩︎
5. On festival days he will accept serif, sans-serif, or whatever the village printer has not yet thrown at a cat.
   ↩︎
6. He can drink JSON when pressed; stew remains his preference. ↩︎

#AI #algorithmicFeeds #blogging #blogrolls #Discworld #doomscrolling #feedReaders #GoogleReader #history #IndieWeb #internetFolklore #openWeb #OPML #personalWebsites #philosophy #POSSE #printingPress #quietWeb #RSS #smallGods #TerryPratchett #webStandards #writing

:blobcatgooglyshrug: Die Radikalität der Gelassenheit

Kaum ist das Handy entsperrt, prasseln sie auf uns ein: Nachrichten, Meinungen, Bilder, Konflikte. Zwischen Schlagzeilen, Mitteilungen und algorithmisch kuratierten Ablenkungen verlieren wir leicht das Gefühl für das, was wirklich wichtig ist. Der Tag beginnt im Reizmodus – und nicht selten bleibt er dort.

In solchen Momenten spüre ich, wie weit ich von dem entfernt bin, was ich eigentlich suche: einen ruhigen, klaren Blick – kurz: Gelassenheit. Doch was heisst das eigentlich? Und wie kann man sie finden?

Meine Antwort darauf? Stoische Klarheit, kynischer Verzicht und epikureisches Masshalten. Gewürzt mit einer Prise wissenschaftlicher Evidenz.

https://text.tchncs.de/gisiger/die-radikale-tugend-der-gelassenheit

#Gelassenheit #Philosophie #Psychologie #MBSR #BrainRot #DoomScrolling

:blobcatgooglyshrug: Die Radikalität der Gelassenheit

Kaum ist das Handy entsperrt, prasseln sie auf uns ein: Nachrichten, Meinungen, Bilder, Konflikte. Zwischen Schlagzeilen, Mitteilungen und algorithmisch kuratierten Ablenkungen verlieren wir leicht das Gefühl für das, was wirklich wichtig ist. Der Tag beginnt im Reizmodus – und nicht selten bleibt er dort.

In solchen Momenten spüre ich, wie weit ich von dem entfernt bin, was ich eigentlich suche: einen ruhigen, klaren Blick – kurz: Gelassenheit. Doch was heisst das eigentlich? Und wie kann man sie finden?

Meine Antwort darauf? Stoische Klarheit, kynischer Verzicht und epikureisches Masshalten. Gewürzt mit einer Prise wissenschaftlicher Evidenz.

https://text.tchncs.de/gisiger/die-radikale-tugend-der-gelassenheit

#Gelassenheit #Philosophie #Psychologie #MBSR #BrainRot #DoomScrolling

:blobcatgooglyshrug: Die Radikalität der Gelassenheit

Kaum ist das Handy entsperrt, prasseln sie auf uns ein: Nachrichten, Meinungen, Bilder, Konflikte. Zwischen Schlagzeilen, Mitteilungen und algorithmisch kuratierten Ablenkungen verlieren wir leicht das Gefühl für das, was wirklich wichtig ist. Der Tag beginnt im Reizmodus – und nicht selten bleibt er dort.

In solchen Momenten spüre ich, wie weit ich von dem entfernt bin, was ich eigentlich suche: einen ruhigen, klaren Blick – kurz: Gelassenheit. Doch was heisst das eigentlich? Und wie kann man sie finden?

Meine Antwort darauf? Stoische Klarheit, kynischer Verzicht und epikureisches Masshalten. Gewürzt mit einer Prise wissenschaftlicher Evidenz.

https://text.tchncs.de/gisiger/die-radikale-tugend-der-gelassenheit

#Gelassenheit #Philosophie #Psychologie #MBSR #BrainRot #DoomScrolling

:blobcatgooglyshrug: Die Radikalität der Gelassenheit

Kaum ist das Handy entsperrt, prasseln sie auf uns ein: Nachrichten, Meinungen, Bilder, Konflikte. Zwischen Schlagzeilen, Mitteilungen und algorithmisch kuratierten Ablenkungen verlieren wir leicht das Gefühl für das, was wirklich wichtig ist. Der Tag beginnt im Reizmodus – und nicht selten bleibt er dort.

In solchen Momenten spüre ich, wie weit ich von dem entfernt bin, was ich eigentlich suche: einen ruhigen, klaren Blick – kurz: Gelassenheit. Doch was heisst das eigentlich? Und wie kann man sie finden?

Meine Antwort darauf? Stoische Klarheit, kynischer Verzicht und epikureisches Masshalten. Gewürzt mit einer Prise wissenschaftlicher Evidenz.

https://text.tchncs.de/gisiger/die-radikale-tugend-der-gelassenheit

#Gelassenheit #Philosophie #Psychologie #MBSR #BrainRot #DoomScrolling

:blobcatgooglyshrug: Die Radikalität der Gelassenheit

Kaum ist das Handy entsperrt, prasseln sie auf uns ein: Nachrichten, Meinungen, Bilder, Konflikte. Zwischen Schlagzeilen, Mitteilungen und algorithmisch kuratierten Ablenkungen verlieren wir leicht das Gefühl für das, was wirklich wichtig ist. Der Tag beginnt im Reizmodus – und nicht selten bleibt er dort.

In solchen Momenten spüre ich, wie weit ich von dem entfernt bin, was ich eigentlich suche: einen ruhigen, klaren Blick – kurz: Gelassenheit. Doch was heisst das eigentlich? Und wie kann man sie finden?

Meine Antwort darauf? Stoische Klarheit, kynischer Verzicht und epikureisches Masshalten. Gewürzt mit einer Prise wissenschaftlicher Evidenz.

https://text.tchncs.de/gisiger/die-radikale-tugend-der-gelassenheit

#Gelassenheit #Philosophie #Psychologie #MBSR #BrainRot #DoomScrolling

Kennst du das Gefühl, in schlechten Nachrichten festzustecken? 🌀 Das nennt sich #Doomscrolling! Warum passiert das, und wie kannst du es vermeiden? Erfahre, wie du bewusster mit Medien umgehst und Negativität reduzierst. 💡✨ #MindfulScrolling #MentalHealth #BreakTheCycle #DigitalWellbeing

https://offen-gesprochen.at/2025/03/doomscrolling-warum-wir-uns-in-negativen-nachrichten-verlieren-und-wie-wir-es-vermeiden-koennen?utm_source=mastodon&utm_medium=jetpack_social

"For years, we’ve been #doomscrolling. World events have intersected with the maturation of large social platforms, shifting the way we relate in real-time. Very real #collectivetrauma stacks up ever-higher. We’re all together, but we still feel #isolated.

I’ve built my career on the conviction that it does not need to be this way.

It’s exciting to remember that, at any time, we can try something completely different and completely our own."

https://www.uploop.dev/blog/internet-we-want

@selzero

By way of an #IllustrativeExample; on its #ThirdIteration, #SinglelPlayerOptions for #ZenPinball have #Escalated and there are a #WiderVariety of #SinglePlayerOptions... Including #HotSeat...

#So, one can get #ReallyGood at #IT; #IF (and #IT's a #BIG #IF) you have #TheTime to #GetGood at #IT...

#JustSaying... #YouKnowAllThis... #Already...

#DoomScrolling

🧙⚔️🤖🐺🤖⚔️🧙 | 🪐🦹🚀🐻​🚀🦹🪐