“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

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.

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.

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?

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.