Inside the civil war at Garlic Bread Memes, the Facebook page in turmoil over an allegedly transphobic meme
About three months ago, Cassondra–a senior at a high school in New Jersey—responded to a post seeking moderators for a Facebook page she had liked some time back. The page was titled “Garlic Bread Memes.” The internet now knows the page for its recent scandal over what some call a transphobic meme, but back then, it was a hub for innocent, apolitical appreciation of garlic bread.
“I was like, ‘Oh, sweet, I could work for a meme page whom I’ve grown to ironically love,” Cassondra told me.
On Sunday, the Garlic Bread Memes page posted a meme some took as transphobic because of its implication that gender doesn’t exist on a spectrum. Plenty found the meme funny, while others were angry that the page posted something capable of being construed as mocking transgender people. On Monday, it was picked up on the subreddit r/ImGoingToHellForThis, sending angry Redditors to the page, who threw a fresh can of lighter fluid on already flaming comments. As Select All’s Brian Feldman pointed out today, Facebook meme pages are positioning themselves as the next frontier of the internet’s culture wars, where seemingly innocuous pages about superimposing text over photos can turn into a ideological battleground with a tap of the return key.
But strife extended beyond the page’s thousands of followers—a separate clash of egos and beliefs was looming inside the page’s ranks of administrators. On Tuesday, Cassondra found herself as the lone voice of dissent against the decision to post memes like the now-infamous “two slice” meme, and as a result, Boaz—the 18-year-old administrator of the “Garlic Bread Memes” page—kicked her out of the group of moderators.
It wasn’t always this hostile. Cassondra really enjoyed most of her time as a moderator at “Garlic Bread Memes,” she said, which now has more than 250,000 likes. As a moderator, she replied to messages from people all over the world. Some wanted to share their own garlic bread memes; others just wanted to issue their own opinions on the garlic-y, butter-y snack.
According to Cassondra, Boaz runs a pretty tight ship: moderators like Cassondra handle public outreach while the site’s dozen or so editors, who primarily know each other from running the page, produce between three and five memes per week. When a meme is completed, the page’s editors and moderators debate the merits of its humor before Boaz eventually signs off on the post. The goal, Boaz told me, is to produce about three memes per day.
For the most part, Cassondra thought the editors and moderators were “decently nice.” Occasionally, editors were rude, Cassondra said. At one point, an editor wanted to post a self-harm meme. “I wish we could post stuff like that,” Cassondra recalled Boaz saying. (Caity, an editor at Garlic Bread Memes, said she did not remember if this exchange occurred, citing a preponderance of conversation in the group.)
On Sunday, Boaz decided the Garlic Bread Meme should post an offensive or controversial meme to drum up attention, like the one that was eventually posted. Caity confirmed Boaz posted the meme with the knowledge that it would be controversial, but said plans to intentionally post offensive memes to garner traffic were only intended to be humorous.
Cassondra didn’t participate in the decision to post the controversial meme, Cassondra told me, but did spot it the next morning on her dashboard. “And I was like, ‘Holy shit,'” she said, “because I knew people were going to be so upset by it.”