My personal philosophies regarding what was once considered the symbol of meme culture and the wrongful allegations against him.
Meme
/mēm/
noun
1. an element of a culture or system of behavior that may be considered to be passed from one individual to another by nongenetic means, especially imitation.
2. a humorous image, video, piece of text, etc. that is copied (often with slight variations) and spread rapidly by Internet users.
I'm a huge lover of internet culture and all of the beautiful trash it consists of. Ever since my AOL dial-up days, I have spent what some would probably consider an unhealthy buttload of time in front of a computer screen. My interests in the World Wide Web did not waver as I matured from young, small nerd to older (still kind of small) nerd. If anything, I’d say that technological improvements have only allowed my preexisting interests to grow. The advancements of smart phones have facilitated a more on-the-go experience for web-surfers, and the power to explore the internet at my fingertips has improved my ability to delve deeper into chaos. I tweet more than I breathe, and I type with the velocity of a cocaine cheetah. Do I plan on altering my behavior though? No. It’s 2016, and the timeline is calling.
Yes, I do think a web-addiction like mine could be classified to some extent as problematic, but I think that we must give credit to the internet’s positive attributes. Your experiences online are as pleasant as you make them, and, if you’re anything like me, the Internet has been good to you. I’ve met many of my close friends on social media, and, through such platforms, I've been able to gain some exposure to my art, writing, and, last but not least, my memes.
I devote a lot of my time online to the creation and (for lack of a better word) curation of memes. I’ve been told by many people with very bad taste that I’ve got a knack for comedy, so, naturally, incorporating my love for the internet, interests in art, and poor joke-making tactics is a seamless endeavor. I get my shit stolen more than I can account for, but still. The ability to spread an idea or joke across a platform (sometimes multiple platforms) is awesome. I like being able to share my humor with an audience, and memes are an outlet that makes all of this possible. In order to pay my respects to the memes of my dreams (but also mostly to be a dickhead), my friend and I got matching Pepe tattoos on our ankles. Pepe, to me (and many others in my generation), is symbolic of meme and internet culture. Unlike Dat Boi, whose popularity caught fire and fizzled out rapidly, Pepe had a slow and steady rise to stardom. Recognizable by most people my age on the Internet, Pepe was able to take on many forms and express an innumerable amount of emotions. To me, Pepe is timeless.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with this once-lovable green frog, I’ll provide a backstory.
About a decade ago, artist and author Matt Furie developed a series of comics titled “Boys Club.” In it, Furie introduced us to several fun-loving animal-dudes who enjoyed the finer things in life: eating pizza, barfing almost constantly, and smoking pot. One of these characters—Pepe the frog—would outgrow his initial purpose by gaining an unprecedented amount of exposure on the internet. At first, Pepe was an innocent frog who loved chatting on the phone and drinking soda with his pals. Over the course of time, dwellers of the deep web began using images of our amphibian friend across multiple web channels, namely 4chan, often accompanied by Wojak (not a Furie character, but often used as a reaction image in regards to “The Feels”). After a lengthy climb to fame, Pepe became a well-known image on almost every social network, often modified for the purpose of spreading a different message or appearing a different way to the given audience. By 2015, everyone in my generation had come across a Pepe picture at least once. At this point, he could be considered one of the most wildly-popular memes used on the internet. However, after becoming somewhat of an internet sensation, Pepe’s career has taken a turn for the worse.
As you may or may not already know, last month, Donald Trump’s son posted a distasteful meme featuring our beloved Pepe. Many people on the outskirts of my generation were confused—who is that frog? Why is he standing behind Trump? What does this mean for the election?
Soon after, Hillary Clinton released an “explainer” in regards to the meme on her campaign website. In it, she described Pepe as “a symbol associated with white supremacy.” WHITE SUPREMACY! I screamed with uncontrollable laughter. Despite the sour route things have gone, I still think it’s somewhat amusing. However, her hypothesis did have some fuel to back it up—her crew wasn’t completely wrong while making that assumption. But, before I tell you about their reasoning, I must first explain to you a bit more about myself.
I live in New York City, one of the most diverse and open-minded places in the world. I’m Latina, and I’m proud to be. No, I didn’t grow up rich, and I lived my whole life in a single-parent household. Oh, and by the way, I’m 23 years old. By assessing the provided information, you can probably guess (with good reason) that I’m no Trump supporter. With that being said, I don’t really associate with anybody that plans on voting for Trump, and, even though I spend a ridiculous amount of time socializing online, I make sure to steer clear of all the “Make America Great Again” weirdos. Therefore, the information I was about to discover certainly shocked me.
Apparently, there exists a group of young fools online who refer to themselves as the “alt-right” movement. They pollute social media networks with pure, unadulterated hate-speech and worship Donald Trump as if he were a god. I imagine that they collectively smell like old shoes, macaroni salad, horse feces, and heavy B.O. One way they share their hateful messages, I learned, is by modifying images of my dear Pepe in highly triggering formats, such as attaching him to anti-Semitic, Nazi imagery. Despite Pepe’s already existent popularity, there seems to something more significant about his existence within this one small hate group than on all of the internet itself—at least according to all the idiots who don’t know anything about Pepe in the first place.
I was afraid for my own well-being at first. What was I going to do if the world began to widely accept my favorite meme (now permanently inked onto my fucking body) as a sign for hatred?
After some rigorous stressing, I had a momentary sigh of relief when The Daily Dot interviewed Matt Furie a few weeks ago. In the article, Furie testified that Pepe was “most certainly not a racist” and that it wasn’t the first time Pepe had been “reclaimed for evil.” He seemed confident that the madness would all boil over, so I didn’t think too much of it afterward. That was, until Time Magazine released some unnerving information.
Just when I thought the worst was over, the going got tough. As of last week, the Anti-Defamation League had declared Pepe a hate symbol. A fucking cartoon frog, a symbol of hate. Boy, was I pissed. I mean, I’m still pissed. Maybe not as pissed as the Hindus were when Hitler was like “hey guys thanks for the swastika lol,” but still, pissed all the same. I’ve been the pit of jokes for the past seven days, and it feels like I’m walking around with the goddamn Confederate Flag on my ankle. What am I supposed to do now? Wear calf-high dress socks for an eternity? Come on, son.
I learned, however, that I am not alone in my woeful struggle. A few days ago, Vice interviewed writer and filmmaker Adam Humphreys, who also has a Pepe tattoo. His situation, however, I fear is much worse—he’s got it right on his fucking hand.
Humphreys expressed about just as much concern as I have on the matter, being that this could now inconvenience our personal lives. I was pleased with his minor jab at the Anti-Defamation League, though: he suggested that they pay for the removal of his tattoo if things grow to be even more problematic. I, too, will second this request if things worsen.
Now that I’ve briefed you on all of the key factors contributing to the subject matter, let’s talk a bit more about the bigger problem at hand: memetic discourse.
The New York Times briefly touched upon some of my ideas in their “Room for Debate” opinion page. The question at hand: “Can a Meme Be a Hate Symbol?” Yes, by social consensus. Without having to read the passage attached in its entirety, one can easily feel out its content. If enough people agree that an image is offensive, then yes, it can be rendered a hate symbol. There’s no room for argument when we consider those offended by the Nazi-adapted swastika or the Confederate flag (which should, in my opinion, be everyone). We can justify their sentiments because many lives were lost in wars propelled by such imagery. Has Pepe, in proportion to these two images, caused such pain and hardship? I think not.
Now let me tell you why the Anti-Defamation League, Hillary Clinton’s informer page, and anyone else with a vendetta against this meme is wrong for ruining it.
While I do believe a meme can most certainly be offensive, I believe even more that its message is only offensive by way of the person modifying and co-opting it. I do agree that a meme can become a hate symbol if there are enough people offended by it. However, Pepe, to most people familiar with the frog, is by no means connected to any sort of hateful, racist message inherently. The followers of the alt-right movement connect that message to his image within their online community by fooling around and Photoshopping him into Nazi attire. That’s the whole point of a meme according to its definition: “a humorous image, video, piece of text, etc. that is copied (often with slight variations) and spread rapidly by Internet users.” While I don’t subscribe to any sort of Republican Party affiliation (and I most certainly don’t support the messages they are spreading), the alt-right kids are doing what anyone else in this generation would do to share a meme—it’s their beliefs that don’t sit well the rest of us, not the image used to convey them.
If you don’t see eye to eye with my philosophy on the topic, then picture this. There is a photo of Mickey Mouse. Plain old Mr. Mouse, with no attached imagery or wording. Suppose now that someone Photoshopped this picture of Mickey Mouse into a Nazi uniform. Let’s say that this image was then shared and reposted millions of times. Would the Anti-Defamation League move forward by proposing that Mickey Mouse was to be considered from here on out a representation of anti-Semitism? Probably not. Now, consider plain old Pepe. Just by looking at an image of this frog (no anti-Semitic imagery or message accompanying him) we are supposed to believe that the image is hateful? Why, now, is this more different for Pepe the frog than it is for Mickey Mouse?
Mickey Mouse (let’s continue with this scenario for the sake of its familiarity) is recognizable by almost every single American citizen with eyes and ears. Where Pepe differs from Mickey Mouse is that he is only recognizable to people on the internet, mostly just my generation. Naturally, people that don’t have a prior relationship with Pepe memes will be concerned if Clinton tells them it’s a White Nationalist symbol based on one small pocket of assholes online that are using him immorally. Now, those who were previously unfamiliar with Pepe will only regard the information that is told to them; they’ll go on believing this false idea, without knowing more about the culture that provided Pepe with his popularity.
In my opinion, any writer claiming that Pepe has been almost entirely co-opted for the use of evil over the past few months is wrong. I won’t argue that racists have used his image, but then again, so have non-racists. Pepe is a blank slate meant for everybody, despite what the Clinton campaign and several other sources have preached at us—just as we shouldn’t let one bad nut ruin the whole Planters can, we shouldn’t let one small group of dicks (like the alt-right) ruin the internet. And, truthfully, I don’t think they will. For example, despite all the negativity surrounding Pepe, I just witnessed one of my Twitter mutuals use a “sad frog” Pepe meme to complain about how tired he was. Guess he didn’t get the memo.
Pepe, in his most fundamental state, is the creative property of Matt Furie. I can only imagine, being an artist myself, the frustration that comes with this level of degradation in regards to one’s work. The fame that followed Pepe allowed us all to become Furie’s partial-collaborator in some way or another, by garnishing Pepe with our own jokes, thoughts, and ideals. I said it before, but I’ll say it again: Pepe is for everyone. By lowering him to “hate symbol,” we’re letting jerks like these alt-right guys win. Making Pepe a hate symbol is just further fueling their fuckery. We just awarded them another point in an already losing game. Racist White America: 1,000,000,001. All us little guys: 0.
No one has seen my ankle and shouted “Jew hater!” at me just yet, but I constantly prepare for the day I have to explain myself to a group of old ladies on the train who “saw that evil frog on the 6 o’clock news.” I can’t help but feel as if avid memers everywhere have taken a hit. Hopefully, this will all be history post-Election Day, and Pepe will once again be a free meme.
If not, I’m chopping my leg off.