Tired of the Internet: Useless gossip and political bias have become the main course.

AI-generated image highlighting excessive network connectivity, including misspelled words.

Introduction: Welcome to the circus

Opening the internet in 2025 is like entering a run-down traveling circus: there are clowns fighting, jugglers falling, a hysterical audience… and, of course, nobody remembers what the main show was. Except, in this case, the entrance fee is free, but the price is our sanity.

I go looking for inspiration to write. A thought-provoking idea, a constructive debate, an analysis worth the time. What do I find? Former Big Brother contestants crying because they lost a shampoo sponsorship, influencers fighting because someone else stole their whey protein ad, politicians arguing because their opponent breathed wrong. That's what we're living through.

Gossip as national fuel

Don't get me wrong: gossip has always existed. The difference is that before it was confined to the bar, the gossipy neighbor peeking over the fence, or the back pages of magazines. Today, gossip is the government plan of social media.

• Who followed whom?

• Who unfollowed me?

• Who gave you a dirty look at a party.

• Who liked the photo of the ex-boyfriend of the minor celebrity's cousin?

  
  

It's so profound that it makes you want to call Jacques Cousteau to explore it.

And the best part: there are people who dedicate hours of their day to debating this with the seriousness of a NASA scientist. While you're toiling away at work, there are 40-year-old adults discussing whether an influencer really broke up or if it's just marketing. Priorities, right?

Politics: the new prime-time soap opera

When it's not gossip, it's politics. But not politics of ideas, of proposals, of transformation. That's too boring. What we have is politics in a "Mexican soap opera" version: exaggerated, melodramatic, and predictable.

One side shouts: "Brazil is finished!". The other responds: "Brazil has never been better!". The reality? It remains a mess, but nobody notices because they're too busy making threads on Twitter.

It's as if the country has turned into a Big Brother Brasília : the politicians are the participants, the voters are the hysterical audience, and the press is the pay-per-view. All that's missing is voting for the elimination vote by SMS.

Meanwhile, education, health, and security continue to be forgotten. But don't worry, because soon another meme featuring a politician with a cartoon face will emerge, and everyone will forget about it.

The algorithm: our favorite dealer

And it's no coincidence. The algorithm is like that friendly drug dealer: it knows what you like and delivers it to your door. You say you want serious content, but what you really consume is gossip and drama. The algorithm notes: "Okay, here's some more of that."

It's simple: an analysis of the climate crisis will get 200 likes. But a video of two influencers insulting each other over a sponsored post gets 2 million likes in half an hour. What do you think the algorithm will favor? Exactly.

It's the logic of trash: the more useless it is, the more it appears. The more useful it is, the more it's hidden. It's as if the world has turned into a fair where the rotten pastry stand is packed, while the fresh fruit stand is deserted.

The normalization of stupidity.

The problem is that we've become accustomed to it. No one is surprised anymore that the big news of the day is who fought on the reality show. No one is shocked that a flood that killed dozens receives less attention than the unfollowing of a former Big Brother contestant.

Stupidity has become the gold standard. We're training society to think less with each click. If Socrates were alive today, he would have already drunk hemlock after the first cancellation.

And what if you dare to complain? You're labeled annoying, a "little intellectual," or worse: "you don't understand how engagement works." Oh, sorry, I'll just write about an influencer's broken fingernail to be taken seriously.

Writing in the desert

This is where discouragement sets in. Because writing requires sweat. You research, organize ideas, revise. You deliver something consistent. But you know what will go viral? A nasty tweet with 12 words.

It's like trying to sell a book in a stadium full of people screaming for selfies with minor celebrities. You can raise your voice, but the echo disappears in seconds.

And it makes you want to give up. Because fighting against this sea of irrelevance is like rowing with a plastic spoon in a stormy sea.

The thrill of fighting

And of course, I can't forget: people love to argue. It's the new Olympic sport. Forget volleyball and soccer: the official sport is discussing politics on the family WhatsApp group.

Some people spend more time defending politicians than taking care of their own lives. Some seem like unpaid lawyers for congressmen. If the politician makes a mistake, they defend them. If the politician gets it right, they applaud as if they'd received a raise. The thing is, their lives remain the same: low salary, bad transportation, precarious health. But it's all good, the important thing is that "my team" won the debate on Twitter.

Why I don't give up

With all this, I should give up. But no. I persist. Pure stubbornness. Because if the few who still write with substance give up, the space will be 100% taken over by digital filth.

I prefer to be a noisy minority than a silent accomplice. Maybe my texts won't go viral. Maybe nobody will share them. But if even one person stops to think, it's already worth it. It's like throwing a stone into a lake: the noise may be small, but at least it's not silence.

What I wanted to see online

I don't dream of an enlightened internet, but I also refuse to live in a digital pigsty. I want balance. I want there to be space, between one piece of gossip and another, to discuss something that really matters.

I wanted us to be able to laugh at memes, but also to stop and think. I wanted debates, not cheering. Criticism, not pandering. Proposals, not empty slogans.

Conclusion: the garbage feast

Today's internet is like a banquet served in a garbage dump. You might find it amusing, but you're chewing on rot. And with each click, the taste gets stronger.

I honestly prefer to spit out this dirty dish and cook something of my own. Even if few people taste it. Because, in the end, I prefer to be the annoying person who tells the truth than the clown who succeeds by serving irrelevance.