Let me start by saying this: If you\u2019re digging into the Drudge Report in 2022, you\u2019re probably either a news junkie, a nostalgia buff, or someone who stumbled here after falling down a Reddit rabbit hole. (Been there.) As someone who spent years hitting refresh on that stark black-and-white page every morning \u2014 coffee in hand, dog barking at squirrels outside \u2014 I\u2019ve got thoughts. And not just \u201chere\u2019s what happened\u201d thoughts, but the messy, real-world kind you\u2019d share with a neighbor over the fence.<\/p>\n
Early 2022 felt like walking into your favorite dive bar only to find they\u2019d replaced the sticky wooden booths with plant-based leather. The headlines were still bold, the links still relentless\u2026 but the vibe? Different. I remember clicking on a screaming ALL CAPS story about gas prices (we were all obsessed that spring) and realizing it pointed to a fringe blog I\u2019d never heard of \u2014 not the AP or Reuters links I\u2019d grown used to. My reaction? A mix of confusion and that sinking feeling when your go-to breakfast spot changes their pancake recipe.<\/p>\n
Key shift I noticed<\/strong>: The mix of sources felt\u2026 thirstier. More hyper-partisan takes, fewer straight-news pillars. I tested it for weeks \u2014 comparing Drudge\u2019s picks against my Apple News feed and even old-school Yahoo News. By June, I\u2019d started mentally labeling it \u201cAggregate TikTok\u201d \u2014 all outrage hooks, zero chill.<\/p>\n Here\u2019s where it gets personal. Last July, a Drudge headline screamed about a \u201cNATIONAL SALT SHORTAGE\u201d (complete with a panic-inducing stock photo of empty Walmart shelves). Naturally, I texted my brother \u2014 who works in food logistics \u2014 something frantic like, \u201cAre we gonna have to hoard Mortons?!\u201d His reply: \u201cChill. It\u2019s a regional trucking hiccup. You\u2019re reading Drudge again, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n That moment changed my routine<\/strong>:<\/p>\n Drudge wasn\u2019t alone here. That whole year, I watched friends and family wrestle with info overload \u2014 my cousin swore off Facebook headlines after a vaccine-misinfo scare, my book club buddy started a Substack just to fact-check viral stories. The bigger lesson? Trust isn\u2019t static<\/strong>. What worked in 2018 (RIP, pre-algorithmic-apocalypse Twitter) wasn\u2019t cutting it anymore.<\/p>\n My clunky-but-honest solution<\/strong>:<\/p>\n It\u2019s this: Whether you\u2019re checking Drudge for kicks, for work, or out of habit (like my dad, who still calls it \u201cthe internet newspaper\u201d), 2022 was the year to wear your media literacy like a life jacket<\/strong>. The tides of bias, AI-generated content, and pure algorithmic madness aren\u2019t slowing down.<\/p>\n When I finally closed my Drudge tab for good last Thanksgiving (replaced by a chaotic but curated blend of Ground News and \u2014 don\u2019t laugh \u2014 my local library\u2019s press digest), it wasn\u2019t about \u201cquitting news.\u201d It was about finally admitting that my 2019-era habits weren\u2019t serving 2022-era realities.<\/p>\n So hey \u2014 if you\u2019re here wondering whether the Drudge Report still matters? Maybe. But what matters more is building a info diet that doesn\u2019t leave you hungry for truth or bloated on hyperbole. And if that means keeping Drudge in your rotation but adding a chaser of skepticism (and maybe a Snopes bookmark), do it. We\u2019re all just out here cobbling together clarity, one messy click at a time.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Let me start by saying this: If you\u2019re digging into the Drudge Report in 2022, you\u2019re probably either a news junkie, a nostalgia buff, or someone who stumbled here after falling down a Reddit rabbit hole. (Been there.) As someone who spent years hitting refresh on that stark black-and-white page every morning \u2014 coffee in…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1751,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_lmt_disableupdate":"","_lmt_disable":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[35],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11018","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-content"],"modified_by":null,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.oreateai.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11018","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.oreateai.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.oreateai.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.oreateai.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.oreateai.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=11018"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.oreateai.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11018\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.oreateai.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1751"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.oreateai.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=11018"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.oreateai.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=11018"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.oreateai.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=11018"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nThe Day I Got Played (And Learned to Diversify)<\/h3>\n
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\nWhy 2022 Felt Like a Identity Crisis for Aggregators<\/h3>\n
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\nIf You Take One Thing From This Ramble\u2026<\/h3>\n