楊婷婷

Have you ever played Snake on a Nokia phone？ Driven a car with a tape deck？ Do you remember calling someone after they beep you on your pager？ As “throwback” memes and nostalgic photos make the rounds on social media， internet users have been inventing new slang to describe their feelings about bygone eras.

On the internet， bittersweet memories are often captioned with

“時(shí)代的眼淚 （sh！d3i de y2nl-i， tears of time），” a translation of a Japanese phrase for fading popularity. The buzzword compares the forgotten thing or person to tears， which dry quickly and leave no mark on the stream of time. For instance， a former pop star who returns to the limelight might evoke the outcry， “She was the goddess of my youth. What a pity！ Once a household name， now a tear of time. （她是我童年女神呢！可惜了，曾經(jīng)紅極一時(shí)，現(xiàn)在卻成了時(shí)代的眼淚。T` sh# w6 t5ngni1n n）sh9n ne！ K0x～ le， c9ngj～ng h5ngj！ y#sh！， xi3nz3i qu- ch9ng le sh！d3i de y2nl-i.）”

Old things， though， can also become classics. 古早（g^z2o）， a term in southern Fujianese dialect meaning “classic” or “retro，” has become synonymous with vintage trends that make a comeback. Guzao makeup

（古早美妝 g^z2o m0izhu`ng） is a fad for cosmetics made from natural products used in ancient times. A guzao series

（古早劇 g^z2oj&） is a formerly popular TV drama worth revisiting， and guzao-flavored food （古早味食物 g^z2ow-i sh！w&） refers to traditional recipes that bring back customers childhood memories.

Yet some retro trends are really best left forgotten. The term “dark history （黑歷史h8il#sh@）” refers to shameful past scandals and secrets that a person， usually a celebrity， wishes to hide—the equivalent of “skeletons in the closet.” It is a favorite phrase of “clickbait” headlines， which scream： “Here are the secrets that celebs most want to hide （明星最想銷毀的黑歷史在這兒！M！ngx～ng zu# xi2ng xi`ohu@ de h8il#sh@ z3i zh-r）！” Some entertainers or their agents are even said to feed this line to the media as a publicity stunt.

Unfortunately for those who would rather bury their skeletons， “The internet remembers （互聯(lián)網(wǎng)是有記憶的。H&li1nw2ng sh# y6u j#y# de）.” This phrase points out the reality that photos， posts， and comments can almost never be erased once published on the web， and are available to anyone with a quick search.

In some cases， screenshots from the internet serve the cause of justice. Last October， during an acrimonious divorce between Li Guoqing and Yu Yu， billionaire cofounders of the e-commerce platform Dangdang， text messages dating as far back as nine years ago backed up Yus accusations about her husbands extramarital affairs.

The internets long memory also powers the “human flesh search engine，” vigilantes who seek personal information to use against a criminal or moral offender， and online trolls： “The internet never forgets. She faked her college degree; she hardly deserves to be a star （互聯(lián)網(wǎng)是有記憶的，她偽造過(guò)學(xué)歷，根本不配當(dāng)明星。 H&li1nw2ng sh# y6u j#y# de， t` w0iz3o guo xu9l#， g8nb0n b% p-i d`ng m！ngx～ng），” they might exclaim about a hated celebrity.

So while its fun to post a throwback photo on Weibo once in a while， be careful what you share with the internet. Or just get a Polaroid camera—theyre retro， making a huge comeback， and you can always destroy the evidence.