Las nog een goede tip: elke keer als je je telefoon pakt (zeker in gezelschap, maar ook als je alleen bent) hardop opnoemen wat je gaat doen. Dan word je zo geconfronteerd met de onzin ervan dat je het minder doet blijkbaar. De voorbeelden die diegene gaf waren echt zo goed, ik kan het artikel even niet vinden.
Maar dan moest ze dus bijv. Tegen haar bezoek of haar kind zeggen: even wachten, ik moet even kijken hoe een influencer uit Amerika die ik niet ken een emmer koud water over haar hoofd gooit. Etc. Etc. En dan dus zo 20 beschrijvingen van stomme reels of online discussies waar ze niks mee te maken had hardop opnoemen.
Ik probeerde dit dus gister uit en merkte dat ik best vaak nog (zelfs nu ik dus al veeeeeeeel geminderd ben) dan tegen mijn zoon zei: ik pak nu even mijn telefoon om⊠ja waarom eigenlijk. Of als ik er dan toch op zat: ik lees nu een post van iemand die ik niet ken over (vul in) en dacht dan gelijk pffff wat STOM eigenlijk. 
Edit: artikel gevonden! One Weird Trick to Quit Stupid, Timewasting Content
En de voorbeelden die ik bedoelde:
Over time, I realised this was (miraculously) making it very difficult to consume any of the ridiculous slop that lands algorithmically in my lap and appeals to the most primitive bits of my brain. Why? Because doing so meant Iâd have to say out loud one (or all) of the following:
âHang on sweetie, Mommaâs justâŠ
- âŠwatching a Generic Therapy Reel on gaslighting/narcissism/attachment that misuses all the terms and makes her want to bang her head on the kitchen counter.â
- âŠwatching an elder Millennial woman with terrible Botox putting on âearly 2000s makeupâ while krumping to In Da Club .â
- âŠwatching some influencer with a lot of bad wigs doing a one-woman skit show about a British nursery.â
- âŠwatching an ad for âlip plumper glossâ that seems to work by inducing an allergic reaction.â
- âŠreading a Sabrina Carpenter thinkpiece, even though she doesnât know who Sabrina Carpenter is (and is pretty sure she wouldnât have strong feelings about her either way if she did).â
- âŠreading endless online shitfights about neurodiversity with comments that are infuriating, upsetting, stupid, really fucking stupid and â occasionally âinformative. Which makes the whole thing a sort of grotesque intermittent-reward slot machine that runs on emotions and time instead of money.â
- âŠwatching videos of dead children in war zones, which is in no way going to impact her capacity to be a thoughtful, calm parent who firmly holds boundaries today.â
- âŠwatching a hairdresser put turquoise and magenta stripes into peoplesâ hair, even though she doesnât know any of these people and isnât interested in having coloured hair.â
- âŠwatching people wash really dirty rugs that are always painfully fugly when theyâre clean, which leads to the weirdest combo of satisfaction and frustration ⊠and she knows this, and yet here we are again .â
- âŠtrying to leave a comment on a misinformed, inflammatory and wildly popular Substack, only to realise that commenting is restricted to paid subs ⊠and actually considering for a moment whether itâs worth ten bucks to the enemy to try and make a point that is absolutely going to be ignored and/or deleted anyway.â
- âŠwatching a snarky âstitch incomingâ dunk on somebody who expressed the wrong political view, and who is probably now unemployed and/or homeless as a result.â
- âŠwatching somebody free a baby monkey from a plastic bottle who almost definitely put that baby monkey in there in the first place for Internet fame .â
- âŠwatching a âTop 5 Things Youâre Doing Wrong as a Parentâ reel, knowing itâs absolutely going to be either wrong, stupid, or both ⊠yet compelled to have a look just in case itâs different this time.
- âŠreading a âTop 5 Things Youâre Doing Wrong as a Writerâ article, knowing itâs absolutely going to be either wrong, stupid, or both ⊠yet compelled to have a look just in case itâs different this time.
- âŠreading yet another blackpill piece about how AI is going to eat humanity alive by the end of the year and spit out the bones, which means weâre looking down the barrel of a future that will make The Road look like Teletubbyland. Sweet dreams, summer child.â
Your algorithm-generated slop will probably have a different flavour to mine, but hopefully you can recognise what Iâm talking about.