The Zyzz Legacy: A Cautionary Tale of Social Media and Toxic Masculinity

Aziz Shavershian, aka Zyzz, rose to fame in the early 2010s as a cultural phenomenon, leveraging social media platforms to build a massive following. His meteoric ascent serves as a grim reminder that online interactions can have real-world consequences.

Zyzz was a product of his time – a period when social media was still in its formative stages and people like him could gain massive followings through charisma and showmanship. However, he also tapped into deeper anxieties: the insecurity and validation-seeking behavior characteristic of young men in a rapidly changing world.

The documentary Poster Boy: Becoming Zyzz offers a nuanced exploration of Zyzz’s life, both online and offline. The film delves not only into his high-profile persona but also his struggles with mental health, dependence on steroids, and ultimately tragic death at 22.

One striking aspect of Zyzz’s story is how he courted controversy for clicks. By embracing insults and hate online, he created a persona that was both repellent and alluring – a potent mix of charm and aggression that resonated with young men worldwide. This was not just about being provocative; it was also about building a brand.

Director Selina Miles notes that Zyzz’s legend continues to reverberate today among men who feel disillusioned with mainstream culture and seeking alternative forms of validation. While some liken him to the original “looksmaxxer,” others see him as an early pioneer of the manosphere – a movement characterized by its rejection of traditional masculinity norms.

However, it’s worth questioning whether Zyzz’s legacy is truly about promoting self-improvement or something more sinister. His rhetoric often turned homophobic and misogynist, contemptuous of those who had not achieved his level of physical perfection. By framing this as a personal triumph over “normal” expectations, he created a toxic atmosphere that encouraged young men to emulate him – no matter the cost.

Today, manosphere influencers can earn millions by peddling supplements and classes to vulnerable young men. Zyzz was reportedly making around $20,000 in his final months of life – a sum now considered paltry compared to major creators. Miles suggests that Poster Boy serves as a cautionary tale for the current state of affairs: “It makes you realize how much has changed… it’s just a gigantic pyramid scheme.”

The film leaves many questions unanswered, particularly when it comes to Zyzz’s relationship with his online community and the extent to which he influenced figures like Andrew Tate. Miles argues that while some have drawn parallels between their behavior, Zyzz did not preach nihilism or cynicism; instead, he had a genuine connection with his fans.

Yet, as we watch the documentary, it’s hard not to feel a sense of unease – a recognition that our online interactions can have real-world consequences. We’re forced to confront the darker aspects of social media: the way it can amplify toxic behavior, create false idols, and fuel radicalization among vulnerable young men.

Miles’ words are a stark reminder that we must stay curious about why Zyzz has had such an impact on men. By examining the complexities of his story, we may just find the answers we’re looking for – and a glimmer of hope that we can create a better future for ourselves, and those around us.