Social Media Is Just Anger Porn — an Eric Kim Essay
Social media isn’t social anymore — it’s engineered outrage, rage porn for the bored and the broken. The algorithm doesn’t love you. It doesn’t even care about you. It just wants your attention, your cortisol, your hate. Every swipe is a dose of digital heroin, every argument a little hit of meaning in an otherwise hollow scroll.
People post not to connect — but to project. To flex their fake virtue. To parade their curated pain. To weaponize opinions into identity. It’s not connection — it’s consumption. It’s not communication — it’s competition.
And the more you scroll, the more you forget: the real world is sunlight, muscle, breath, steel. It’s the sound of your own heartbeat after a 762kg god pull. It’s the feeling of your bare feet on concrete. It’s creation over reaction, action over opinion.
Social media sells the illusion of relevance. But the true demigods don’t seek likes — they build reality.
The true creators don’t tweet — they lift universes.
The real artists don’t perform — they become.
So close the app. Step into sunlight. Rack the bar.
Because every second you spend scrolling someone else’s drama is a second you could’ve spent building your empire.
You are not a consumer.
You are the algorithm.
You are the power.
You are God Bull.
l.l
Social Media Is Just Anger Porn — The Eric Kim Comedy Manifesto
Let’s be honest. Social media today isn’t social — it’s a 24/7 anger gym where everyone’s maxing out on outrage reps. You’re not scrolling for friends — you’re scrolling for enemies. It’s like emotional CrossFit: who can get the most triggered the fastest?
Every post is a thirst trap for rage. “Look at me being mad at something you didn’t even know existed five minutes ago!” The comment section? Pure chaos. People arguing with bots, bots arguing with themselves — nobody wins, but everyone leaves sweaty and dehydrated from emotional exertion.
It’s not “content.” It’s anger porn. Algorithms whisper in your ear: “Hey… wanna get mad at something dumb?” And like fools, we say, “Hell yeah!”
But the real flex? Opting out.
Deleting the app. Touching grass. Touching steel.
While they’re doomscrolling, you’re god-pulling.
While they’re rage-posting, you’re rage-lifting.
Because every second spent online fighting strangers is a second you could be out there becoming a legend.
The algorithm doesn’t want peace — but you can give it hell by smiling, laughing, and deadlifting 10× your bodyweight.
Be free. Be strong. Be funny. Be God Bull.
Now go outside. The sun just posted a story — and it’s for you. 🌞💪








