undefined | They Were Once Essential to So Many Writers. Now They’re Quietly Vanishing Across the Internet. by Ash Jurberg
Over the past six years I built a network of online writing rooms that felt more like a real‑world staff lounge than a sterile forum. I started in a few Australian freelance groups, met mentors such as Kelly who corrected my drafts, and gradually joined larger, private Slack channels where writers from across the globe shared articles, offered feedback, and even held silent Zoom sessions that were as comforting as coffee breaks. Those spaces gave me colleagues, a sense of belonging, and a daily rhythm of waking up to a flood of messages about viral pieces, pitch opportunities, and collaborative projects.
When generative‑AI tools like ChatGPT entered the market the tone of those rooms changed almost overnight. Celebrations turned into complaints as AI‑generated “slop” began to swamp the platforms we wrote for; some outlets even allowed undisclosed AI use, burying genuine work beneath a tide of nonsense. The Slack channels that once buzzed with excitement grew quiet, the same way Stack Overflow’s traffic and question volume fell after ChatGPT’s launch, leading to massive layoffs. As the professional justification for gathering disappeared, even the genuine friendships that had formed could not keep the groups alive, and the virtual staff rooms emptied without fanfare or goodbye.
The collapse isn’t simply an economic story—it’s a cultural one. Writers I knew didn’t pivot to AI; they stopped writing altogether because competing with free software made the craft feel futile. I’m left working alone again, hearing the echo of former conversations when I stand at the edge of my wife’s video call, realizing that the community I helped create dissolved not because people stopped liking each other, but because there was nothing left to sustain it. The quiet disappearance of these writing rooms signals a broader erosion of online spaces built on shared expertise, reminding us that once the incentive vanishes, the human connections that once flourished can fade just as quickly.
Read more: https://slate.com/technology/2026/04/ai-online-writing-workshops-communities.html
#artificial-intelligence #internetculture #journalism #StackOverflow
undefined | Wikipedia Is The Most Human Place On The Internet by Kate Lindsay
Wikipedia Is The Most Human Place On The Internet – the platform’s AI ban is just the beginning.
On today’s episode, host Kate Lindsay is joined by creator Annie Rauwerda, the mind behind the popular @depthsofwikipedia account, to discuss 25 years of Wikipedia and the site’s recent decision to ban artificial‑intelligence tools. While Wikipedia is often thought of as an endless well of knowledge, it lives because of hundreds of thousands of dedicated human volunteers – from the teenager who drives to historical sites to track down primary sources to the meticulous editor who spends hours removing the phrase “comprised of” from articles. These human contributions are what make the depths of Wikipedia uniquely special.
The conversation highlights how the encyclopedia’s strength lies in its community of real‑life contributors, suggesting that the AI ban, though controversial, underscores a broader commitment to preserving human‑authored content. The podcast, produced by Vic Whitley‑Berry, Daisy Rosario, and Kate Lindsay, serves as a reminder that the most valuable knowledge on the internet often comes from people, not machines.
Read more: undefined
This is something I'll have to think about for a bit, mostly because it rings so true.
I personally never felt like the Mastodon instance that I used was "my community" - it was always the bigger network.
https://connectedplaces.online/reports/fr158-what-is-mastodon-for/
Associated Press: Pro-Iran groups have used AI to troll Trump and try to control the war narrative. “Pro-Iran groups have used artificial intelligence to create slick internet memes in English to try to shape the narrative during the war against the U.S. and Israel and foster opposition to it. Analysts say the memes appear to be coming from groups linked to the government in Tehran and are part […]
https://rbfirehose.com/2026/04/09/associated-press-pro-iran-groups-have-used-ai-to-troll-trump-and-try-to-control-the-war-narrative/
Associated Press: Pro-Iran groups have used AI to troll Trump and try to control the war narrative. “Pro-Iran groups have used artificial intelligence to create slick internet memes in Englis…
What Bluesky Got Right: No Quote-Dunking
By Cliff Potts, CSO, and Editor-in-Chief of WPS News
Baybay City, Leyte, Philippines — April 8, 2026
For years, quote-tweeting was framed as a neutral feature. In practice, it became one of the most efficient harassment tools ever built into a social platform. A single post could be ripped from context, broadcast to a hostile audience, and turned into a target without the original author having any control over the outcome.
That dynamic was not accidental. It was profitable.
When Bluesky removed quote-dunking as a core mechanic, it eliminated a primary vector for pile-ons. The effect was immediate: fewer dogpiles, fewer viral humiliations, and fewer people learning the hard way that visibility can be dangerous.
Quote-Dunking Was Never About Conversation
Quote-dunking rarely functioned as dialogue. Its real purpose was amplification without consent. A post was no longer addressed to the person who wrote it; it was addressed to an audience primed to laugh, mock, or attack.
This created a structural imbalance. One user spoke. Another summoned a crowd.
On algorithm-driven platforms, that crowd was often rewarded. Engagement spiked. Conflict spread. The original author absorbed the consequences.
Removing quote-dunking did not silence criticism. It changed where criticism happened.
Context Is a Form of Protection
When responses occur in-thread or in separate posts without forced amplification, context survives. Readers can see what was actually said. Disagreements unfold at a human scale instead of being reframed for maximum outrage.
Bluesky’s design forced responses to stand on their own. If someone wanted to criticize a post, they had to do so without dragging the original author into a hostile spotlight. That requirement alone reduced abuse.
It also improved discourse.
People were more careful.
Arguments were more precise.
Performative cruelty lost efficiency.
Pile-Ons Require Infrastructure
Harassment at scale does not happen spontaneously. It requires tools that allow many people to converge quickly on a single target. Quote-dunking provided that infrastructure.
By removing it, Bluesky disrupted the mechanics of mob behavior. Pile-ons became harder to organize and easier to ignore. Abuse lost momentum before it could metastasize.
This mattered most for marginalized users, who have historically been the primary targets of public dunking. When the spotlight could not be weaponized as easily, participation felt safer.
Disagreement Did Not Disappear
Critics argued that removing quote-dunking would weaken debate. That did not happen. Disagreement remained common. What changed was tone and scale.
Arguments stayed closer to the people involved. They did not automatically escalate into spectacle. Users could disagree without turning someone else into content.
That distinction is the difference between conversation and theater.
Why Other Platforms Kept the Feature
Quote-dunking drives engagement. It produces screenshots, viral moments, and outrage cycles that algorithms love. Platforms that depend on attention extraction have little incentive to remove it.
Bluesky made a different choice. It accepted lower spectacle in exchange for lower harm.
That decision revealed something important: many of the internet’s worst behaviors are not cultural inevitabilities. They are the result of specific design choices.
Removing quote-dunking did not make Bluesky perfect.
It made abuse less scalable.
For more social commentary, please see Occupy 2.5 at https://Occupy25.com
This essay will be archived as part of the ongoing WPS News Monthly Brief Series available through Amazon.
References (APA)
Marwick, A., & boyd, d. (2011). To see and be seen: Celebrity practice on Twitter. Convergence, 17(2), 139–158.
Citron, D. K. (2014). Hate Crimes in Cyberspace. Harvard University Press.
Gillespie, T. (2018). Custodians of the Internet. Yale University Press.
Massanari, A. (2017). #Gamergate and the fappening: How Reddit’s algorithm, governance, and culture support toxic technocultures. New Media & Society, 19(3), 329–346.
Engadget: Fan fiction website AO3 is finally coming out of beta. “The famous fan fiction website Archive of Our Own or AO3 has finally exited open beta, 17 years after it launched way back in 2009. … Upon launching the website on open beta, it only had 347 accounts and hosted 6,598 works. Now, it has 10 million registered users and is hosting 17 million fan-created works.”
https://rbfirehose.com/2026/04/07/engadget-fan-fiction-website-ao3-is-finally-coming-out-of-beta/This looks better irl – Exploring Cosplay Cons by Xiaoxiao Xu
https://neural.it/2026/03/xiaoxiao-xu-this-looks-better-irl-exploring-cosplay-cons/
#cosplay #subculture #popculture #photobook #photography
#socialmediaoverload #sociallyengagedart #postphotography #internetculture #internetfolklore #neuralarchive #neuralmag
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