If you’ve been online recently, you’ve probably encountered a Flat-Earth theory video or meme in your feed. Perhaps you’ve even run into a self-proclaimed Flat-Earther ready to debunk centuries of scientific evidence with questionable YouTube sources and memes. As we watch this movement, one question lingers: Are these people serious? Or is Flat-Earth just an elaborate troll act, a pseudo-religion of irony?

In a timeline that seems more like speculative fiction than reality, Elon Musk has gone from tech titan to social media overlord to potential government official under a Trump-led administration. Yes, you read that right. Musk, who purchased Twitter (now rebranded as “X”) for a casual $44 billion, has transformed the platform into an ideological echo chamber and is now positioning himself for a job in the next Republican government. For anyone paying attention, it’s both a chilling and fascinating development—one that raises unsettling questions about the future of Twitter, the United States, and the very nature of democracy in the digital age.

It’s finally happening: X is shedding users faster than a reality show loses relevance after its finale. Post-election, a virtual mass migration has begun, with waves of weary souls leaving the once-beloved bird app behind and flocking to BlueSky. Why? Because X—formerly known as Twitter, but currently known as a 24/7 circus of bots, propaganda, and rage—has officially gone full dystopia. And when a place like BlueSky exists, where the air’s clearer and the conversations less…deranged, the choice seems obvious.

When Lily, a rebellious teenager, steps into a seemingly ordinary restroom, she stumbles into a chilling journey that defies all logic.

Living on the cusp of retirement, my world had fallen into a predictable, comfortable rhythm, like an old tune played on a well-loved gramophone. My days were defined by simple pleasures and solitary rituals. Morning strolls down the garden path, the steady cadence of the town’s daily newspaper, the comforting lull of afternoon naps, and above all, the evening tryst with my unexpected companions—the hedgehogs.