peppy
@peppy
“Farcaster: The Web3 Town Hall That Accidentally Turned Into a Boomer Family Text Thread” By: A Concerned Zoomer with a Fast Internet Connection and 3,000 Memes in Draft
1 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
peppy
@peppy
In the early days of Web3, Farcaster emerged as a shimmering promise of decentralized social media, a place where developers, degens, and digitally native nomads could congregate outside the corporate overlords of Meta and Twitter (or “X,” if you still pretend Elon’s rebranding wasn’t just a late-stage crypto divorce spiral). With its open protocol and high-minded ideals, Farcaster seemed poised to become the watering hole for the next internet generation. And then… boomers happened.
1 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
peppy
@peppy
No, not literal boomers (though there are rumors of a few LARPing as “crypto-native” while still trying to figure out how to force-quit Microsoft Word). We’re talking spiritual boomers: those users — often under 40! — who somehow emit the digital vibe of your uncle Gary texting a blurry BBQ photo to the family group chat with the caption, “nice day.” Let’s dive into how this tech-forward utopia became an accidental scrapbook for broke tech dads posting pixelated sunset photos and commenting “solid cast” like it’s 2012 and they just discovered Instagram.
1 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
peppy
@peppy
Part 1: “Did You Eat Yet?” – The Boomer Energy of Farcaster Farcaster was meant to be the playground of developers and thinkers — a cerebral Twitter alternative where ideas about decentralization, privacy, and new forms of community could flourish. Instead, it’s become the digital equivalent of your Aunt Cheryl’s 40-minute voice note about how Costco is out of rotisserie chickens again. Let’s take a walk through the app: A guy named “ethdad420” just posted his fourth picture of an empty coffee cup with the caption, “grind time.” Someone else posted a low-res picture of their feet on a patio with a comment thread that just says “vibes.” The top trending cast? “Just had a great sandwich. #BLT #blessed” You begin to wonder: Am I in a high-tech blockchain community or did I accidentally join a Facebook group for suburban hobby photographers named Mike?
1 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
peppy
@peppy
Part 2: “Back in My Day, ETH Gas Was 3 Gwei” There’s a special kind of Farcaster user who spends half the day complaining about how no one “understands protocol-level innovation anymore,” and the other half posting photos of their backyard, framed like an art-school project shot on a Nokia flip phone. They remember when Ethereum was $10. They always mention it. They don’t remember how to crop a photo. But somehow, their posts still get 27 likes from fellow protocol dads who say things like “gm fren” and unironically use the 🌞 emoji. These guys could write a full thesis on ZK-rollups but still can’t figure out how to rotate an image that uploaded sideways.
1 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
peppy
@peppy
Part 3: The Great Photo Flood Let’s talk about the photos. Farcaster is full of images, but not in a cool, curated way. It’s more like someone left the gate open at a retirement home Instagram bootcamp. You’ll see: Coffee mugs. So many coffee mugs. Close-ups of keyboards like they just got a new job at Staples. Blurry dogs. Slightly out-of-focus book covers with captions like, “revisiting this classic.” No context, no commentary. Just vibes. The vibe is your dad got a smartphone in 2015 and discovered how to add filters. And the comments? Unparalleled boomer energy: “Looks like a good read!” “Classic.” “Wow, great lighting. 📸” It’s a boomerified dopamine loop, where the likes are earned not from clever insight, but from mutual, polite nods of digital acknowledgment — like how grandparents wave at every single person in a grocery store.
1 reply
0 recast
0 reaction