When I saw a video of a 7-year-old named Tariq on TikTok in August, I thought of when I was younger.
Through a toothy jack-o'-lantern grin, he spoke poetically about the delights of corn with such pure joy and genuineness that it seemed almost inevitable. The video spread so quickly that it became known as "Corn Kid". He was featured on Good Morning America, was named an official "Corn-bassador" of South Dakota, and created a musical version of his enthusiasm that has since been used in more videos.
The internet felt good for a while. "Corn Kid" was a TikTok hit, the viral wunderkind of a platform that continued to feel thrillingly fresh and unpredictable this year.
The internet was magic back then. It was exciting to log on and to anticipate discovery. New types of humor, new forms of self expression, and new ways to communicate through social media and instant messaging were taking shape online. The idea of an internet "trend" was new, and we were able to mimic it ourselves. Everyone on the internet was interested in what was big on the internet.
Back then, the magic of the internet revealed itself in new ways every day. It was electric with possibility, and logging on was accompanied by the thrilling anticipation of discovery.
The annual video recap of the year's most popular clips and trends shows how united we were. The video was about Ylvis's "What Does the Fox Say?" a hit that was played on heavy rotation and performed at awards shows. There was a time when rape culture was low and there was a time when releases were major events.
It gave up on producing Rewind videos completely because of the backlash it received for its inability to capture the internet.
The internet now feels so sour and divisive that Corn Kid feels so precious. Politics embitters a lot of our online experience, and the rest is suffocated by negative vibes. The cultural content is more like a regurgitation than a reinvention. The box office and Broadway are dominated by superhero movies. The popularity of the original Gossip Girl has yet to be awakened by the new one. Digital trends are not new.
Hip-hop and Latin music are both on the charts and the rise of K-pop is exciting. Most of the industry is still thriving on nostalgia, where old things get reborn on the internet. The 1975, whose popularity surged alongside Skins, are making horny tongues wag again. Ten years after One Direction were at the height of their power, Harry Styles is still at the top of his game. After Red became her first no. 1 album in the U.S., Taylor Swift has remained pervasive.
There is no longer a "mainstream" culture we all participate in.
NBC said in February that its Olympics coverage was 43 percent less popular than the last Olympics. The ratings spoke to a loss of community, of singular cultural events that used to unite us, even though some blamed it on COVID restrictions or the time difference between China and the U.S.
There is a different culture we all participate in. The internet breaks down into smaller and smaller corners until we are all looking into our own feeds. It feels like a choice-your-own adventure when you're online. Corn Kid is special due to that.
Corn Kid has been around for a long time. I grew up on internet culture that valued the simple, weird, and irreverent. The pure form of entertainment is marrying the fun of 2013 with hyper-specific, algorithm-driven modernity.
Even though credit for his fame as the "Corn Kid" is owed to TikTok, the popularity of Schmoyoho's remix would make him the star of a new video on the video sharing site. What other things brought us together this year? It's the World Cup. It's fine for people to be disdainful of Musk's takeover of the social networking site and of the demise of the virtual currency. The internet has become too large and negative for us to feel united by anything.
On TikTok, a toothless little boy holding an ear of corn larger than his own face will tell you in earnest, "I hope you have a corntastic day!".