Recursive, hyperactive, cumulative, hopscotched, and interlinked—these were the defining characteristics of the early internet and emblematic of autistic logic.


finding a sense of belonging can be an arduous task for individuals on the autism spectrum. spectrum jockeys like us, with tendencies towards avoidance, feeling overwhelmed, and overstimulation, often find that forming a community is as challenging as navigating the intricate nuances of the spectrum itself. it's like riding along a wave until we unexpectedly slip through what we thought was the end, only to find ourselves back where we started, alone with our perpetually "other" selves. being autistic means harboring a nagging suspicion of having somehow erred, a constant feeling of being out of place or out of sync with time. surely, we believe, beyond the horizon, there exist kindred souls carrying the same nag, awaiting our meeting to exchange dinosaur trivia or transition smoothly into discussing our favorite computer role-playing games or evel knievel's daring stunts.


therefore, it comes as no surprise that autists have sought refuge in the internet. within this vast interconnected constellation of peculiar individuals—freaks, geeks, obsessives, compulsives, and socially awkward misfits—they have carved out a perfect kingdom in the image of god, a haven for both diagnosed and undiagnosed autists, created by them, and meant for them.


at least, so go the anecdotes passed down by the old wives, typically former forum moderators from generation x donning ironic wang computers shirts. throughout my awareness of the internet as a sanctuary for diagnosed outsiders and eccentric individuals, i have also heard voices expressing how it no longer belongs to them. however, whereas in the past such conversations dwelled at the intersection of nostalgia and paranoia, now they situate themselves between foresight and grief. the knowledge that the forces of capital are fashioning the internet according to their own desires has hollowed out the realm once occupied by autists. there is little room, time, or necessity for us in this new landscape.


i was born in 1990 in perth, western australia, an only child with relatively elderly parents who possessed (and still possess) a level of understanding of computers and the internet that mirrors my comprehension of the roblox youtube poop videos my younger cousins show me. my introduction to the web took place at a nearby café in fremantle, where my parents would enjoy their coffee while i perched on a barstool in the cozy back-corner book nook. there, a computer connected to a dilapidated printer and glacially slow dial-up allowed me to search for pictures of my beloved pokémon (cubone) and favorite dinosaur (compsognathus), which i meticulously printed out to employ as references for my numerous illustrations on these captivating subjects.


like most millennials, the internet of my upbringing inhabited the space between the technology's utopian, community-driven beginnings and its burgeoning late-capitalist future. it was a realm where my closest companions, in the digital sense, consisted of a group of sixty-year-old jewish gentlemen from staten island, who shared an intense passion for the musical stylings of skip james and blind willie mctell. in this realm, the person sitting beside you in computer class might unexpectedly present a video clip capturing the horrific decapitation of an american soldier by a high-caliber rifle in afghanistan. it was a realm where flash animations depicting stick figures engaged in martial arts battles akin to those seen in a yuen woo-ping epic were considered ingenious exemplars of the internet's boundless potential.


this was the internet of the hyper-specialized, intensely focused, and socially detached (or so the cliché would have it) hobbyists. they functioned as curators, creators, and vast repositories of knowledge in a multifarious yet intimate tapestry of websites, blogs, forums, and digital spaces. above all, they shared one common thread: community. you could feel it within the gathering of kindred spirits huddled together in a message board, exchanging banter and passionate discourse about a specific subject or anything and everything in between. it emanated from usernames that filled you with more warmth than the names of immediate kin and friends. it was present in those moments when private messages intertwined with confessional narratives. and it was apparent in the profound sense of place and belonging, reminiscent of stumbling upon a cozy inn nestled at the intersection of a bustling ten-lane road. it felt real, whether it transcended the digital realm or not (though often it did). it was an unspooling thread of connection within an expansive, diverse, and infinite landscape of logged-on souls.


This internet was created by individuals who were genuinely interested in catering to specific niche communities while also inviting exploration of other interests. it is important to note that the intention was not to diagnose individuals like the person from my favorite james joyce forum who insisted on role-playing as simon dedalus, the emotionally distant father of stephen dedalus in ulysses. however, this era of the internet seemed tailor-made for those on the autism spectrum or those who could benefit from it. the unique language and culture of these online spaces, with reminders such as the origin of the term "selfie" on an australian forum, shaped the grammar, lingo, and mindset of our generation, even when away from our keyboards.


gradually, the advent of social media brought subtle changes. the once-free atmosphere of otherness, weirdness, fun, and joy started to be gradually confined and commercialized. it was during my late teens that i joined facebook and inadvertently discovered the addictive world of social media, which acted as a gathering place for all these unconventional individuals. the early 2010s witnessed the evolution of the internet from my high school years, where the exceptional talents found in forums and blogs were provided with larger platforms. this created a thriving independent media and artistic community that was both exciting and more accessible. previously marginalized voices were finally beginning to be recognized, and the applause they received in the form of likes, shares, comments, and followers, had tangible benefits, including paid work.


it wasn't until my mid-to-late 20s, when i immersed myself in twitter, that i truly started to come to terms with my autism diagnosis. on this platform, i found what i now refer to as my autistic community, thanks to the comedy, art, music, humor, and diverse ways of thinking i had discovered during my online adolescence. these newfound friends, slightly older than me, were profoundly shaped by the early days of the internet. in the direct messages (dms) and threads we shared, i interacted with fellow enthusiasts and eccentric individuals who, despite being strangers in the conventional sense, had similar passions. in these virtual spaces, i gradually embraced my diagnosis and learned to accept my own uniqueness. i shed the societal expectations and repressions imposed on me as a non-autistic person, and i began to express my authentic self more freely. we communicated using a shared language formed by references to comedy sketches and comic strips, dismantling the constraints imposed by society on our autistic identity. these online interactions allowed us to be ourselves in ways that were often impossible offline in the "real" world.


for a young individual on the autism spectrum with an insatiable appetite for novelty and obscurity, this online environment provided me with an education, a chaotic gathering, and a celebration. however, as you may now realize, this utopia was destined to decline.


today's internet, to borrow the words of the late and revered david berman, feels like a room with crumbling and disintegrating walls. those of us who have spent enough time online to be forever scarred by shocking images like goatse can sense that whatever defined the internet during the era of goatse is slowly vanishing, and it is a rather paradoxical tragedy.


the dominance of mega-corporations across every facet of the internet, from independent outlets and blogs to platforms, sites, and forums, has resulted in a monotonous uniformity. desperate for our attention and money, this consolidated internet landscape lacks appeal and is bland. the algorithmic convergence brought about by google, facebook, and the internet's consolidation over the past decade has led to a seismic shift where the web's diverse and vibrant landscape has been transformed into a mundane destination flooded with generic seo content and tiresome clickbait. the once-expansive and authentic internet experience has been replaced by an unappetizing and low-quality equivalent, akin to a tasteless and hastily consumed meal found in a trucker's glove compartment.


Lost amidst the ongoing heat death are individuals on the autism spectrum, who now find themselves adrift without a supportive community. there is a pervasive sense of communal and cultural extinction as the spaces we had forged for ourselves are abruptly closed down -- abandoned forums, desolate blogs, and culture websites that have been bought, sold, and stripped of their essence. this upheaval is exacerbated by the advent of web 3.0, which obliterates anything that had not already succumbed or merged with gargantuan corporate entities, akin to an all-consuming force from akira. the only way to maintain some semblance of togetherness is if we allow ourselves to metamorphose into a form of digital goo, merging as one on the algorithmically driven, market-oriented, technocratic internet known as the "for you" timeline. 


in contrast to the bygone internet that not only nurtured but also celebrated the quirks and idiosyncrasies that often accompany autism, the present-day internet dominated by figures like elon musk, mark zuckerberg, and other malevolent vulture capitalists leaves little time or space for those who don't adhere to popular trends. we, the autistic community, are deemed unprofitable and challenging to monetize (unless the majority of advertising revenue derives from companies like bandai or the new york review of books). the vestiges of idiosyncratic peculiarity that persist are considered mere runoff, accidents, or spectacle, with the most vocal autistic voices existing somewhere between vaudevillian performers and rousing showmen, thriving within the realm of front-facing camera videos.


although this complaint has been voiced repeatedly, the loss of twitter, among all the social media platforms, is the most deeply felt. the platform, now labeled as "x," has long been home to the most prominent and visibly autistic community, operating on a logic that is recursive, hyperactive, cumulative, hopscotched, and interconnected. it was a space built on the foundation of the obsessed, the passionate, the whimsical, the susceptible, and the perplexed. for autistic individuals, twitter offered respite within the crowd, allowing them to navigate the inherently illogical logic of shonky and digressive conversations, where fandom, peculiarity, and exuberant banter intersected harmoniously. during its height, twitter epitomized the very essence of the internet, capable of awakening the autistic nature within each of us.


under elon musk's stewardship -- ironically, an individual on the autism spectrum himself -- twitter has more or less ceased to function effectively, resembling my own disorientation amidst a strobe-lit rave. musk could be characterized as the ultimate boss of toxic, autistic forum moderators: an isolated and socially awkward outcast who vindictively vents his frustrations by undermining the community he supposedly oversees, analogous to a self-proclaimed champion invoking arbitrary rules before overturning the proverbial table at a magic: the gathering tournament. even before musk's influence, twitter already served as a refuge for autistic exiles and a sanctuary for refugees from the bygone era of the internet, operating as a holding pen or a zoo enclosure for a vanishing species displaced by circumstance, albeit innately reclusive. those of us tragically tied to musk's influence, characterized by the derogatory humor-laden "googoots soyjak" subculture, find ourselves adrift and yearning, bereft of the brief glimmer of ownership we once relied upon.


despite the modern internet's disregard for history and its self-devouring tendencies -- a consequence of its perpetual churn and a model predicated on the destruction and dilution of its own past -- it will forever be entangled with its autistic lineage, spirit, and essence. our influence is etched into its very dna: albeit on the brink of extinction, we remain preserved within the digital amber of memes, frivolous posts, information repositories, immersive explorations, oversharing, and public denunciations. it is within these manifestations that the inventiveness, imagination, and the unprofitable yet genuine otherness that defines our fundamentally divergent collective consciousness are encapsulated. to emphasize a point, the internet, at its zenith, possesses the remarkable capacity to make even neurotypical individuals experience a sense of autism. therein lies a quiet power, resisting the corporate ethos that seeks to homogenize us into innocuous and compliant entities. the irony, of course, lies in questioning the value of the internet when all the marginalized individuals have been systematically expelled. ultimately, what purpose does the forest serve without bigfoot, when those responsible for its destruction are blind to its intrinsic value?