In the busy streets of Trendtown, where hashtags rule and selfies are like gold, something strange was happening. A new religion was emerging, centred around the worship of the almighty influencer.
It all began innocently enough with a viral video of a particularly charismatic influencer making bread from scratch in her pristine, pastel-coloured kitchen. Not only did she bake, but she also advised people on how to store their herbs in glass bottles. This was followed by her packing sandwiches in brown paper bags, which she kept in a cute basket for a Sunday picnic with a red checkered tablecloth. Soon, followers flocked to her social media platforms, hanging onto every sponsored post and product recommendation as if they were divine decrees.
As the following grew, so did the devotion. Hashtags became prayers, with worshippers fervently typing #Blessed, #ClosetoNature, and #PeacefulLife under each post. The influencer, basking in the adoration, starts posting photos of lavish lifestyles and sponsored vacations with “Feeling #blessed by your devotion” captions.
In this new religion, the temple is the smartphone screen, and the holy text is the Terms and Conditions. The clergy are the verified accounts, and the sacraments are the latest beauty products and fashion trends.
Critics mock the absurdity of it all, but the faithful remain steadfast in their devotion. They see the influencer as a beacon of hope in a world filled with uncertainty, a guiding light to help them navigate the complexities of modern life.
Meanwhile, the traditional religious institutions watch with a mix of amusement and concern as their pews are empty and their congregations dwindle. Some try to adapt, hosting livestreamed sermons, and launching social media campaigns, but they cannot compete with the allure of the influencer’s perfect pastel-colour walls adorned with bunches of colourful hydrangeas in white vases.
As the influence continues to grow, so does the temptation to monetise status. Influencers begin selling branded merchandise and offering premium content for a subscription fee. The faithful eagerly open their wallets, eager for a taste of the divine.
But like all empires built on social media, the influencer’s reign is not without its pitfalls. Scandals erupt as former disciples come forward with tales of exploitation and manipulation. The influencer’s carefully crafted image begins to unravel, revealing a flawed human being behind the filters and hashtags. Not wanting to lose the title, they release an “apology video”. The followers see their God crying. It is ugly. The room is dark today. There are no rosy cheeks, and the hair is unkempt. The nails are not pedicured, and there is snot. Today, the hydrangeas are missing.
The faithful realise it is just another human being and the number of followers comes down drastically. Critics tell them to take it as a cautionary tale about the dangers of placing too much faith in the fleeting world of social media. As the dust settles, the faithful are left to ponder their misplaced devotion. As they search for meaning in the glow of their screens, another charismatic person posts a video of storing detergent pods in mason jars.
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