
This week, younger generations are utilizing nitrous oxide to create whipped cream, celebrating their minimalistic consumption habits, and oddly enough, interacting with The Costco Guys.
Exploring the Concept of 'Galaxy Gas'
Galaxy Gas is the trademarked name of a company primarily selling nitrous oxide, but it’s increasingly becoming a colloquial term for the substance. Nitrous oxide, a psychoactive gas when inhaled, appears to be gaining cultural traction among rebellious youth. While concrete data on the rise of N2O abuse is scarce, awareness of its use is undeniably growing. As reported by a source, Kanye West is allegedly hooked on it, and one could easily spend hours watching videos of young individuals inhaling nitrous or discussing its effects, if so inclined.
Nitrous oxide occupies a legal gray area, with regulations differing across states, though it remains permissible in most contexts. An elderly yet trendy dentist might even allow you to undergo a root canal under its influence. Beyond dentistry, nitrous is a culinary tool for crafting Belgian waffles and Hollandaise sauce, and it’s also used to boost the performance of race cars.
In numerous states, nitrous canisters are available for purchase by anyone, though some regions restrict sales to adults. Possession of nitrous oxide is typically illegal only when intended for recreational use (as stated on the product site: "It is illegal to purposely inhale our product"). However, prosecutions are rare, as claiming, "I’m not getting high, officer, I’m making dessert," often serves as a plausible excuse. Products like Reddi-Wip, which use nitrous for whipped cream, are widely sold despite their potential for misuse.
Whether referred to as Galaxy Gas, whippets, or hippy crack, the recreational use of nitrous oxide is far from new. Since the 1700s, people have inhaled N2O for its euphoric effects, from British elite hosting "laughing gas parties" to mystics like William James seeking spiritual enlightenment. It remains popular among Deadheads, Phish fans, frat boys, and Juggalos, serving as a unifying substance. Its recent surge in popularity is likely to spark widespread concern in the near future, so stay alert.
What is the Meaning of 'Augusted'?
If you’ve noticed the term 'Augusted' circulating recently, it refers to being dumped by a summer romance. The term typically carries a bittersweet tone rather than deep heartbreak, encapsulating the sentiment of a fleeting summer affair that naturally concludes as August arrives. It’s often accompanied by a sense of nostalgia and acceptance, like saying, "It was fun while it lasted."
The term 'Augusted' traces its roots to Taylor Swift’s 2020 song 'August' from her album Folklore. It has since evolved into a popular TikTok hashtag, featuring videos that capture the poignant moment of realizing a summer romance has ended, often set to Swift’s track. Many of these clips include scenes of beachside runs, adding to the wistful vibe.
Defining 'Underconsumption Core'
Emerging from minimalism, 'underconsumption core' is a growing aesthetic and lifestyle movement centered on maximizing the use of existing possessions and delaying new purchases until absolutely essential.
While inflation has historically led to reduced spending, the recent social media-driven trend of showcasing this behavior is novel. The 'core' aspect of underconsumption is highlighted by influencers flaunting their mismatched glassware, vintage blow dryers, and worn-out jeans online. This movement offers a refreshing contrast to the consumerist culture often seen on digital platforms.
Some may argue that using items until they’re no longer functional isn’t 'underconsumption core' but simply 'living normally.' However, cultural trends have moved away from traditional values like thriftiness, acknowledging our reliance on consumerism. If everyone stopped fueling the economy by purchasing new goods, it could grind to a halt. (Personally, I lean toward 'lazy core,' where I barely notice the age of my belongings and avoid buying new items due to sheer laziness.)
The Costco Guys, Rizzler, and the Demand for Instant Gratification
A.J. & Big Justice, known as 'We’re Costco Guys,' are a father-son pair from Boca Raton who have recently exploded in popularity. Their videos, which focus on Costco, chain restaurants, and other everyday topics, have garnered millions of views on Instagram and TikTok. Audiences seem captivated by their enthusiastic eating habits, their signature 'Boom' exclamations, and their exploration of what truly defines them as Costco enthusiasts.
Rizz, short for 'charisma,' refers to someone with charm, and a rizzler is a person who embodies this trait. The Rizzler, a member of the Costco Guys extended family, is gaining fame for reasons that remain unclear. Perhaps it’s his standout role in their latest viral video, where each participant declares 'Just give me my money' to cheers, except for the unfortunate 'victim' who receives none.
Personally, I find this trend unappealing. I dislike their rap songs, their direct camera gazes, their paid promotions, and their relentless energy. Their over-the-top enthusiasm feels overwhelming and even nauseating to me. I’ve come to realize I’m not a Costco guy.
Viral Video Spotlight: The Rise of the Costco Guys
It seems I’m not alone in distancing myself from the Costco Guys phenomenon. This week’s viral sensation, We’re Costco Guys, comes from the twisted mind of internet animator Meat Canyon, who envisions a grim yet humorous fate for Big Justice. In this dark tale, he’s shipped off to Indonesia to harvest cocoa beans, far removed from his indulgent family. Beyond mocking an absurd American trend, Meat Canyon’s work prompts viewers to question how Costco manages to offer such low prices. Where does all this inexpensive merchandise originate? And to what extent are consumers responsible for the exploitation that allows us to enjoy $1.50 hot dogs and $2.49 Double Chocolate Chunk Cookies, punctuated with a triumphant 'boom!'?