Good morning. We’re about to unpack some of the early internet’s most viral moments. But as a newsletter by creators for creators, who are we to judge without an offering of our own?

So, on the last day of the year, we present to you the 11-year-old “Beats Rant” by Colin and Samir’s short-form editor, Taiga Fukuyama. Were we ever so young?

— Hannah Doyle & Syd Cohen

“Chocolate rain / Some stay dry and others feel the pain”

Then: Adam Bahner posted his original song about systemic racism under the stage name/alter ego Tay Zonday. Over the course of 18 years, the song gained 141 million views and has been declared by many as a cornerstone video on the platform.

“At the time, one person uploading a video and being parodied by thousands of people was a new phenomenon,” Bahner told us via email. “YouTube embraced ‘Chocolate Rain’ as a way to say, ‘This is who we are and why we are a new experience.’”

Bahner was among the first 60 creators to join the YouTube Partner Program and monetize his videos. As his channel grew, he continued to post a mix of original songs and covers.

Although his YouTube voice work and music videos were in line with his larger goal of working in entertainment, he was othered by the industry. In the years following “Chocolate Rain,” Bahner classified himself (and other large YouTubers at the time) as Hollywood outsiders—they relied on each other for work by collaborating on videos. 

Now: Bahner works as a voice actor and creator, making the majority of his content on Cameo (where he has over 1,500 five-star reviews). He told us the YouTube of today is a vastly different experience from the platform he came up on.

“YouTube used to be full of friction because humankind is naturally full of friction. [...] Viral videos like ‘Chocolate Rain’ happened because human beings had to solve friction instead of algorithms,” Bahner said. “I think we had a better sense of ourselves when we relied on viral videos to reduce friction, instead of algorithms and product design.”

His advice to creators now? “Being beloved, being accepted unconditionally, and being paid money are three different things. [...] It’s very easy for public attention to blur these needs together,” Bahner said, highlighting the importance of a strong sense of self when having a public-facing career.

“First blog / dorkiness prevails”

Then: LonelyGirl15—a scripted web series about a girl named Bree vlogging her life while trying to escape a cult—was one of YouTube’s first major hits, heralded as a new art form.

Back in 2006, YouTube was a hub for home videos and goofy sketches. An actor (Jessica Lee Rose) pretending to be a regular teen wasn’t a familiar concept.

Her diaristic vlogs and writing to fans in the comment section 1) toed the line between reality and scripted and 2) sparked fandom, to the tune of 100K views per video. After the LA Times revealed LonelyGirl15 was scripted six months into the project, the channel went fully viral.

The creators behind it → writer Mesh Flinders and plastic surgery intern Miles Beckett, who met at a karaoke bar when they were 25. Attorney Greg Goodfried later joined.

The sense of urgency: “All of production happened in six weeks. When we had the idea, we thought ‘this has to be done now.’ This platform is going to blow up in the next six months. It’s going to be something completely different, someone else is going to do this,” Flinders told us. They shot in Flinders’ bedroom and put their $1,100 budget on a credit card.

Flinders and Beckett quit their jobs to go full-time. Flinders hoped it would lead to directing a feature—but nothing materialized.

“Because I wanted to make films, I always saw this as a stepping stone to that—and it really was jarring when it became its own thing,” he said. 

Flinders left in 2007, while Beckett and Goodfried launched their media studio, EQAL. The series continued until 2008.

Now: Beckett works in AI software, Rose works in media in New Zealand, Goodfried recently became an agent at CAA, and Flinders is a creative director in New York. Flinders told us he never went viral again—and is at peace with it.

“It took me like five or 10 years after LonelyGirl to stop trying to go back to that place…And realize that I became a writer because I love to write. It had nothing to do with the audience or attention. It is just a way to be less lonely, express yourself, and be in your imagination.”

Flinders now writes novels and screenplays and recently signed with an agent. His biggest lesson? Fall in love with the process.

“The less you can be focused on the outcome of your work…the more likely you are to engage with people around that work,” he said. “I’m not going to worry about getting millions of views—I’m going to try to come up with something that’s sustainable for me.”

“These shoes are 300 dollars / These shoes are 300 dollars / These shoes are 300 f***ing dollars / Let’s get ‘em!”

Then: When Liam Kyle Sullivan moved to Los Angeles, there was no creator economy. He was an actor, auditioning for small roles while workshopping his original character Kelly at open mics. “Shoes,” the comedy song that would launch Sullivan to viral fame, existed before YouTube did. 

In its early days, YouTube was more lawless than today, Sullivan said. His sketches were often reuploaded by dozens of other channels—but at the time, Sullivan was happy to have the exposure.

“I didn't think at all about monetization of those views,” Sullivan told us. “There was no model for it.”

Even so, his sketches gained millions of views on his own channel—today “Shoes” has 71 million. 

The editing skills he picked up from creating his Kelly sketches eventually landed him freelance gigs at Defy Media, Maker Studios (the largest multi-channel network on YouTube until its acquisition in 2014), BuzzFeed, and The Ellen Show before going full-time at Try Guys.

Now: Sullivan’s transition from talent to behind-the-scenes was not without challenge. Before creators had their own industry—and even now in the wake of that shift—many posted online with the hope of converting their filmmaking skillset into a Hollywood career. Sullivan recalls executives being unsure which box to put him in.

“I think the real struggle was saying, ‘I failed,’” Sullivan said. “[I had to gain that] psychological ability to reframe what I was going through.” 

But his community is still there. Last summer, Sullivan performed as Kelly in an LA gay club to an audience screaming every word back at him.

“I had this whole resurgence or renewal,” Sullivan said.