It was the dawn of the third age of memekind – ten years after the Snoopocalypse.
The Risa Project was a dream, given form. Its goal: to prevent another memewar, by creating a place where humans and shitposters can work out their differences peacefully. It’s a port of call – home away from home – for OC creators, reposters, entrepreneurs, and wanderers.
Humans and shitposters, wrapped in two million, five hundred thousand tons of spinning metal . . . all alone on the net.
It can be a dangerous place, but it’s our last best hope for shitposting.
This is the story of the last of the Risa meme stations. The year is 2023. The name of the place is /c/Risa.
It was the dawn of the third age of memekind – ten years after the Snoopocalypse.
The Risa Project was a dream, given form. Its goal: to prevent another memewar, by creating a place where humans and shitposters can work out their differences peacefully. It’s a port of call – home away from home – for OC creators, reposters, entrepreneurs, and wanderers.
Humans and shitposters, wrapped in two million, five hundred thousand tons of spinning metal . . . all alone on the net.
It can be a dangerous place, but it’s our last best hope for shitposting.
This is the story of the last of the Risa meme stations. The year is 2023. The name of the place is /c/Risa.
Don’t give it life. We all know how it ends.
With “Hate”.