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Yikety Yak; Don’t Talk Back

Our generation has always been on the cutting edge of new social sites. We filled Myspace with heaps of middle school angst, annoying auto-playing pop songs, and super sick background themes. When the shine came off of Myspace we descended on Facebook en masse, complaining about every layout change and ruining any chances of getting hired by a respectable job with posts of you struggling to make it through the bear-proof wrapping that is Qdoba tinfoil. It’s only natural now that as our parents and grandparents steadily choke our newsfeeds with embarrassing family photos and what they made for dinner last night, we find other ways to interact with each other that aren’t at risk of our grandmothers internet shouting “I HOPE YOU’RE STILL GOING TO CHURCH ON SUNDAY,” on pictures of late nights on the Corner. Enter Yik Yak.

 

We love Yik Yak. If we ever need to put our finger on the pulse of UVa, it’s easiest just to check the Yak. While we’re more than likely going to be get a joke about how “if Fiji were recruited by the NFL, the Dallas cheerleaders would be out of a job,” there’ll always be someone commenting about the important issues of the day — like how they it’s easy to forget that obscene amounts of alcohol leads to your head trying to implode the following morning, or that “Bikini season is just around the corner, but so is Qdoba.”

 

The true stroke of genius from the creators of Yik Yak was to make Yak’s anonymous. People will take risks when nobody knows they’re the one who birthed an anti-joke everyone downvoted. Plus, who in their right mind is going to talk about the very real danger of being blinded on McCormick Road when your name and face are plastered up there next to it. If you pulled that on Facebook, the deluge of politically correct-fueled hate would shame you back to Myspace. On Yik Yak, that stuff is a comedic gold. 

 

At some point the gravy train that is Yik Yak will run out of steam. It’s the way of the social site in our day and age, and that’s okay. For the moment it’s an amusing escape from the bloated, adult-and-advertisement filled beast Facebook as become. In a few years when we visit our grandparents they’ll be excited to show us the top Yak going around Sunny Acres Retirement Home (“My slippers are gone again, I suspect the gypsies”), it’ll be time to abandon ship. Until then, let’s keep enjoying the Yak life.

 

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