Snack Crack Bop

The tricky world of netspeak. 

By Julia Palor 

Photograph by Carina McCallum

Skibidi. Bop. Dubai Chocolate. Crack. Performative male. Labubu. When it comes to sheer volume of mumbo jumbo created, Shakespeare’s got some competition. 

Internet lingo, also known as netspeak, is virtually inescapable in this day and age. While most netspeak can be boiled down to harmless memes, funny sayings, or shorthand for longer phrases, a rising tide of internet language reveals cultural biases that have long ceased to be normalized.

Obvious examples include “girl math” and “performative male,” netspeak that played on gender norms in a relatable, lighthearted way before becoming a reinforcement of those norms. A lot has been said about these jokes being used to reinforce rigid social expectations, but what about more latent examples? 

The internet has allowed language to evolve rapidly, with different contexts applied to previous definitions. The word “bop” used to be a fun way of indicating a good song. It then became used in certain online spaces to refer to female OnlyFans creators before turning into a derogatory word to demean any and all women deemed promiscuous or “easy.”

Or how about “crack,” a euphemism (if you can call it that) for sex. What does it mean when we associate breaking something with a completely natural act? Language, while inherently neutral, does not exist without adapting to certain contexts. In this case, the connotation is overwhelmingly negative and evokes puritanical euphemisms such as “the devil’s tango.”

Moreover, what happens when words or phrases become universal and are robbed of their original context? When someone jokes about being “mogged” or being a “chud,” are they aware that they are borrowing language from the notoriously alt-right platform 4chan? More often than not, no. Or, in historical context, how about popular phrases such as “no shade, no tea,” “serve,” or “slay,” originating from the New York City ballroom scene, being co-opted by people who would other the very queer community from which they share a vocabulary?

Let’s be clear: language is not about ownership. On the internet, words are condensed, stretched, and reformed to the point where the original meaning is oftentimes lost. But is this necessarily a bad thing? 

Language has been evolving for hundreds of years. Trying to read Shakespeare without the early English translation rids it of its saliency and humor. Moreover, language is a tool of community, a way to establish similarities with an in-group and to form connections based on shared interests and experiences. 

But what happens when an in-group weaponizes inherently biased language towards an out-group? Furthermore, is it not a form of cultural imperialism when we take words, strip them of their original context, and pass them off as “internet lingo”? One can argue that reducing the historical context of certain phrases contributes to a one-dimensional view of language and prevents a productive conversation about their origins. 

Language is ultimately a marker for our culture. Netspeak can thus be viewed as a melting pot of all these different stances and viewpoints, but we have to be careful. Some have better intentions than others.