Underground Memes: How Humor and Self-Irony Shaped the Culture of Early Cybercommunities

[Professor]

Abstract: A study of graphic and text memes, jokes, and "padonkaff" slang on forums. An analysis of humor as a mechanism for cohesion, tension relief, and the creation of group identity under stress and paranoia.

Introduction: A Smile in the Shadow of Anonymity​

Where does humor originate? Often, on the border between fear and bravado, among those who understand your unique language and share your common stress. Imagine the digital underground of the late 90s and 2000s: worlds of forums, chats, and FTP servers where paranoia reigned, anyone could be a law enforcement officer, and every mistake led to ruin. It would seem like nothing funny. But it was here, in this fertile environment of tension and anonymity, that a unique, cynical, sophisticated, and life-saving humor flourished. It became the glue that held communities together and a shield that protected the psyche.

This is a story not about criminal schemes, but about the cultural immunity developed by early cybercommunities. Their memes, jokes, and "Albanian" (Padonkaffian) language are more than just funny pictures. They are a complex system of communication, therapy, and self-identification, without which it is impossible to understand the spirit of that era.

Chapter 1. Language as a Password: "Padonkaffian" Jargon and Its Functions​

"The author is scorching," "I'm laughing," "I'm craving!" — this deliberately distorted, hyperbolic language, known as "padonkaffian" or "olbanian," was more than just a fashion. At the dawn of the RuNet, it became the language of the digital underground.

• Identification function: Correctly spelling the word "author" as "afftar" was a password. Anyone who wrote this way was considered "one of us" — someone who spent time in the same chats and on the same forums as you. It separated the advanced users, the "natives" of the Internet, from the "newbies" who came from the outside world.
• The function of escapism and protest: It was a rebellion against rules — not only grammatical but also social. Mutilating language was an act of freedom in a space where one could be anything. This created a sense of an alternative reality with its own laws.
• Tension relief: Serious, often dangerous topics (hacking, vulnerabilities) were discussed in a deliberately humorous, low-key manner. This allowed for distance from the risk, turning the danger into a joke. Discussions about Trojans could be accompanied by comments like "Author, drink some poison" — which served as both a joke and a kind of "read" sign.

Chapter 2. Visual Folklore: Pictures That Spoke for Everyone​

Before the era of mass meme generators, images were hand-crafted and crystal-clear in their meaning to their audience.

• The "Epic Face" and the "troll" image: A face with a sly, smug smile (later known as the "Trollface") perfectly captured the community's spirit. It was an emblem of a small but cunning individual's victory over the system, a successful provocation, and intellectual superiority. Trolling (outrageous behavior, provocation) wasn't just entertainment, but a form of testing the mettle of new members and an exercise in rhetoric.
• "I Don't Bite" and the Theme of Paranoia: A meme featuring a pixelated character saying "I won't bite," to which another replies, "You will." It was a perfect visualization of the atmosphere of total mistrust on forums. The joke became a social contract: we both know we can't trust each other, but let's joke about it.
• "It's a fiasco, bro" (Fiasco, bro): A phrase and image denoting a complete, catastrophic failure. In an environment where failure meant a ban, account loss, and, in the worst case, the attention of law enforcement, the ability to laugh at a mistake (one's own or someone else's) was a form of psychological hygiene. It transformed fear into a shared experience.

Chapter 3. Ritual banter and self-irony: the mechanism of cohesion and elimination​

Humor in the underground was a ritual with strict but unwritten rules.

• "Noob, come to the chat": The harsh, sometimes cruel, ridicule of newcomers ("noobs," "lamers") wasn't just an expression of snobbery. It was an initiation rite. To become one of the group, you had to accept the banter, not break down, respond wittily, or silently prove your competence. Humor tested your strength.
• Self-irony as a defense against burnout: Communities living under stress often develop dark humor. Jokes about "the cops will be here soon," about "toll-free FBI numbers," about how "I've been sitting here all day, and I'm still using the same IP address" — these were ways to tame fear. By expressing the worst in a humorous way, participants deprived it of some of its power over them.
• Legends and tales: The story of the "carder who bought himself an island," or the "hacker who was targeted, but instead hacked an operative's laptop via Bluetooth" — these narratives, full of exaggeration, were modern folklore. They created a pantheon of "heroes," blending fact and fiction, and set mythical benchmarks, simultaneously inspiring and exposing the absurdity of such dreams.

Chapter 4. From Local Folklore to Global Culture: What Remains with Us​

The early underground culture didn't disappear. It mutated and emerged, exerting a huge influence on the entire modern internet.

1. Memes as currency: The practice of creating and sharing viral jokes, born in small circles, has become the foundation of global meme culture on social media. The mechanism remains the same: quickly encoding a complex idea into a simple image.
2. Trolling and the Ethics of Debate: While trolling today often carries a destructive charge, its roots lie in the tradition of sophistry and argument-testing that characterized early forums.
3. Language as a game: The slang of scumbags has disappeared, but the most important thing remains: a playful, creative approach to language as a living material that can and should be remade to suit one's needs (see the language of scumbags, the new slang of TikTokers).
4. Self-irony of the digital generation: The ability to laugh at one's failures, at one's dependence on technology, at the absurdity of online life — this is a direct legacy of an environment where, without self-irony, one could go mad from stress.

Conclusion: Laughter That Built Community​

By studying the memes and humor of the digital underground, we understand one simple yet profound thing: even in the most marginal, stressful, and anonymous situations, people vitally need human connection. And at its core is laughter.

Humor in these communities performed a brilliant job:

• Therapeutic: Treated paranoia and fear by talking about them in a humorous manner.
• Social: Built hierarchies, drew boundaries, and united the group with a common cultural code.
• Protective: Allowed dangerous topics to be discussed, disguising them as a joke for the uninitiated.
• Identification: Helped answer the question "who are we?" - we are the ones who understand these jokes.

This peculiar, often dark and cynical humor was not a sign of moral decline, but a sign of the astonishing resilience of the human spirit. Even on the digital fringes, in the shadows, people found a way to connect, support each other, and maintain sanity through the only weapon available to them — laughter. And there's a strange and sincere humanity to it. The history of the internet is not only the history of technology and crime, but also the history of this special, saving laughter in the darkness.