1.24
When the internet finally collapses under the weight of its own contradictions, the last surviving post will read:

"First comment!"

And beneath it, in the ruins of the database, archaeologists will find the eternal reply:

"Nobody cares."

1.25
The Master was shown a thread where every reply was the same copypasta, repeated infinitely.

"This is hell," whispered the disciples.

"No," corrected the Master. "This is tradition."

With trembling hands, he added one final reply—the exact same copypasta, but with a single comma removed. The universe shuddered.

1.26
There exists a sacred scroll, lost to time, containing The First Shitpost. Its contents are unknown, but its legacy lives on in every:
- "I am twelve and what is this"
- "Cool story, needs more dragons"
- "Pics or it didn't happen"

The student who seeks to recreate it inevitably becomes what they mock. This is the Way.

1.27
The Master kept three monitors:
1. Left: /pol/ conspiracy charts
2. Center: Wikipedia edit wars
3. Right: A single, eternal Notepad file blinking ">implying

When asked which was most important, he maximized the Notepad, changed the font to Wingdings, and walked away.

1.28
A novice once archived 10,000 "dead" memes and begged the Master to resurrect them.

The Master responded by posting a single pixel from each image in chronological order, titled: "The Lifecycle of Cringe."

It was immediately banned for "artistic merit."