Grumpy Cat, I hate everything you stood for, but…
Farewell, Grumpy Cat. I did not know you well, but there was nothing much to know.
You were a single mildly amusing visual joke stretched out to your entire seven-year life.
They dragged you around to TV shows and festivals where people went crazy over you, but you did nothing. Because you were just a cat.
You became a symbol of all the things that make the internet a disposable repository of commercialized triteness: going viral, repetitive memes, tacky merch, corporate trend-hopping ads, and a film that no one asked for.
Your cultural contribution has been zero, perhaps even negative.
You spawned a flock of imitators, whose exploitative owners hoped to earn millions from their own pets by putting them in funny dresses. Their collective cultural contribution has also been zero.
Grumpy Cat wasn’t even your real name.
Yet, ever since I found out that you died, I feel ineffably sad.
Now, I get it.
By Igor Ogorodnev
Igor Ogorodnev is a Russian-British journalist, who has worked at RT since 2007 as a correspondent, editor and writer.
The statements, views and opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of RT.
