Wednesday evening: my supervision over, my sloppily put together dinner of pasta eaten, my playlist of “Iconic songs from the 90/00s!!!!” (an exact quotation) running smoothly. It was time, in other words, for me to write my fortnightly meme article. But what on? For once, I was facing a different dilemma to that of my previous articles. Whereas before I was perfectly sure about the content that I wanted to put out on the internet and my chief hang-up concerned subjecting my friends and peers to my sanctimonious and utterly pointless meme analysis, this time I was a genuine loss about what to write about. I felt like a flummoxed innocent asked, in typical fashion, to name four of my favourite memes in order to prove my devotion to the cause. Of course I love memes, said an increasingly hysterical voice at the back of my head, just because I can’t think of a single meme now doesn’t mean I don’t love them… my thoughts drifted darkly, unmoored and shifting towards despair. Misery, self-flagellation, disillusionment - when suddenly it struck me. Why not channel all my overdramatic desperation and write about Southern Gothic?

“Children with eyes ‘too bright, too happy, too shining’ and easy make recipes ‘hissing’ help to keep the meme teetering between the realms of the normal and the bizarre”

Before delving, as I always do, into the origins and format of the Southern Gothic meme, I’d like to take a moment to address the actual title of the meme itself. While most sites do tend to refer to Southern Gothic as ‘Regional Gothic’, the increasingly diversified style of the meme means that it would be easier and less confusing to refer to it as Southern Gothic (a title more indicative of its origins). With that utterly pointless prelude aside, it’s time to move on to the actual meme itself.

Unlike last week’s ‘bode’, it’s hard to find a definitive starting point for Southern Gothic. The most plausible explanation out of the dozens I have perused is that in mid-2015 a group of Tumblr bloggers decided to utilise the basic format of the ‘Southern Gothic’ form of writing and apply it to different regions, hence the name ‘Regional Gothic’ (whether the near-spontaneous creation of ‘Regional Gothic’ points towards the existence of some type of meme hive mind is a compelling but ultimately fruitless side question… perhaps for another time?). Over time however, as is common with memes, the format of Southern Gothic moved on from describing geographical spaces to more abstract concepts, hence marking the shift from Regional Gothic to Southern Gothic. One of my favourite examples of the meme, which also acts as a prime example of the increasing flexibility of the Southern Gothic format, comes from Tumblr user ‘thebibliosphere’:

“Ridiculously easy buttermilk biscuits!” You click the link. It’s a novella about finding inner peace in suburbia. You never knew you were disturbed till now.

“Ridiculously easy green beans!” You click the link, there are twelve ingredients. None of them are green beans.

“Ridiculously easy salted pistachio caramel latte coffee cake in three easy steps!” You click the link. There are twelve steps.

“Ridiculously easy marshmallow fondant!“ You click the link. It’s another novella about suburbia, this time about the dangers of feeding chemicals to your children. You wonder when you acquired these children and worry about their eyes. They are too bright, too happy, too shining…

“Ridiculously easy evaporated milk custard!” *Must own own cow.

“Ridiculously easy shortcake in 12 steps!” You click the link. There are no steps.

“Ridiculously easy, easy to make, easy in three minutes, easy!” It doesn’t tell you what you’re making but you’re pretty certain it shouldn’t be hissing.

“Ridiculously easy,” the article reads, “easy, it’s so easy, easy” you hear laughing. Your face hurts why does your face hurt?

“It’s so easy,” you tell you friends, your smile is not your own. You can feel your teeth growing, “so easy, you’ll hardly feel a thing!”

Upon reading the piece, a few characteristics of the Southern Gothic meme style become immediately apparent. Each of the short scenarios begin with an image or situation easily recognisable to most people - I for one can’t even count the number of times I’ve clicked on a link enticing me with ‘easy steps’ to create my own veritable ambrosia. However, as the scenario moves forward elements of the fantastic, even the supernatural, invade what was once the relatable. While the expressed conclusion to each of the easy recipes (“Must own own cow”, for example) can be construed as simply playful hyperbole, the reader is constantly aware of a sense of unease lurking throughout the text: children with eyes “too bright, too happy, too shining” and easy make recipes “hissing” help to keep the meme teetering between the realms of the normal and the bizarre.

A common observation about the Southern Gothic meme is that it resembles the style of the delightfully unnerving podcast Welcome to Night Vale, and indeed, parallels can be drawn between both mediums’ tendency to construct over-elaborate situations in the second person. Both Southern Gothic and Welcome to Night Vale have amassed an impressive cult following, with their fans presumably drawn to the highly stylised creepiness that they both exhibit and indeed revel in. But what, you might be wondering (and I certainly wondered) is the appeal of this creepiness? Is it some form of playful homage to the elaborate constructions of jump-scares or slasher movies, some form of recognition of the effort that goes into creating a feeling of unease? Is it poking subtle fun at people who almost immediately get “a bad feeling about this” (looking at you, Han Solo) and are quick to paint over their mildly uncomfortable experiences with coats of hyperbole? Am I reading too deeply into a phenomenon that can be quite easily explained as ‘internet hooked millennials like the aesthetic of Gothic constructions’? The answer to the first two questions is maybe, to the third a resounding yes.

To whatever small readership I’ve managed to salvage after these columns (comprised, I’m guessing, of people procrastinating on work by scrolling through Facebook and accidentally clicking the link to my articles) you may be feeling bored, disquieted, disgusted or some combination of the three. For your viewing pleasure, therefore, I have constructed my own version of the Southern Gothic (working titles: “Varsity Gothic” and “English student with too much time on her hands Gothic”). Enjoy!

Meme-ory Lane Gothic

This is not the article you want to see. You refresh the page, but no new articles pop up. There is only the Southern Gothic meme analysis, filling your entire line of vision. This is not the article you want to see.

The articles are always so self-deprecating. Why does the author’s main form of humour come from self deprecation? If she’s so embarrassed by these articles, you think, why is she writing them in the first place?

First it was an article. Then you blink at it has become an impassioned language analysis essay. Like a shapeshifter hopped up on too many energy drinks it blurs - meme article, essay, meme article, essay. You see the phrase “subtext of this meme”. You sigh.

The articles seem to be getting longer. The scrollbar for the first article was a respectably blocky length. But then it shrank. And shrank. Soon there will be no scrollbar and you will be stuck in this meme hellscape forever