I swear I’m almost done talking about brainrot.
In October, I described how the term—just chosen as the Oxford University Press Word of the Year—goes well beyond the idea of “mental deterioration caused by the internet.”
In fact, most people aren’t using the word with its literal definition. Rather, they metonymically apply it to related contexts, such as videos of Subway Surfers or “online words” like rizz and skibidi that are seen as harbingers of brainrot instead of brainrot itself.
The OUP acknowledges this in their subdefinition of “something characterized as likely to lead to such deterioration,” but they miss how it’s also developed into an online aesthetic of nonsensical repetition. In meme communities, brainrot now refers to words that are used ad absurdum in reaction to algorithmically trending metadata.
In effect, brainrot has become a class of words that refer back to themselves, poking fun at the very conditions that brought them to existence. “Rizz” and “skibidi” are repeated so much because they parody the fact that the algorithm gave us those words in the first place.
This idea—creating ironic language categories to cope with reality—isn’t actually that new. I’ve heard many young professionals humorously use work language like “circle back,” “shift gears,” or “ping me” outside of the workplace, because it’s funny to use those phrases. They mock the absurd formalities of the office environment, the same way “brainrot words” mock the algorithm’s corruptive effects.
In literature, too, the concept of mise-en-abyme refers to a subordinate level of text that repetitively mirrors a primary level. The technique is inherently self-referential, but is seldom discussed within its appearing medium. Instead, the content of the medium is the medium itself. Meme brainrot and corporate brainrot sound silly to us for the same reason: they allude back to the ridiculosity of a given situation without directly addressing the situation.
Although plenty of these mises-en-abyme already exist, social media algorithms are creating more “brainrot” categories than ever due to their amplification of trending language. Over the summer, for example, a genre of “socal asian brainrot” went viral in AAPI communities, repetitively featuring common Asian interests like “boba, raving, seaside, Keshi, Illenium”—all flat generalizations of the community, but hauntingly reminiscent of algorithmic metadata used to target Asian Americans on TikTok.
Two weeks ago, we also saw the emergence of “identity politics brainrot,” as a meme about a “solo poly black hijabi amputee” went viral, making light of progressive efforts to be overly inclusive. Immediately after, we got “wicked brainrot,” with thousands of memes quoting an interview about “holding space for the lyrics of defying gravity,” to the point where the words lost all meaning.
I call this microbrainrot. At this point, there are so many niche communities on social media that each can create its own genre of brainrot catered to their unique identity struggles. Just as corporate brainrot parodies the professional subculture and meme brainrot parodies the greater internet subculture, we now have microbrainrots parodying ever-more-specific in-groups through glaringly algorithmic language.
Every echo chamber has its own deep canon of references that can get turned into trends and, eventually, reductive stereotypes. As we get further entrenched in our online consumption, you can expect more and more of these “microbrainrots” to emerge.
Also, big news!!!
If you’ve been following my page, you’ll know that I recently finished writing my book Algospeak: How Social Media is Transforming the Future of Language. I’m now excited to reveal the cover! Thanks to Tyler Comrie and the whole team at Knopf for putting this beautiful design together:
Algospeak is scheduled to come out in July 2025 and is available for pre-order now. Stay tuned for more updates :)
My favorite example of microbrainrot that I’ve stumbled across is the subreddit dichotomy of r/wunkus and r/ihaveihaveihavewunkus, which I think collectively deserve some linguistic attention at some point.
The subreddits are for posting animal content (mostly cats) that have a certain degree of “wunk” to them. I can’t accurately describe “wunk”, but if you look at enough posts, you’ll understand. r/ihaveihaveihavewunkus (which I wish I knew more about the origins of) has a pretty common flair for posts that do not meet the sufficient level of brainrot compared to r/wunkus. There are also flairs for “25% Rot” and “75% Rot”. I’d be interested to get statistics on how people would quantify brainrot in a context like that, and how you begin to draw brainrot thresholds between the subreddits.
Holding space for the perfect verbalisation of self-reflexive meme trends I’ve been noticing online lately but couldn’t explain 🧘🏻♀️