Cortisol's little thesis on 'spite as gentrification' is the kind of meme I'd expect from someone who's been mainlining irony for years. It's that classic Canal move: take a trend, flip it on its head, and serve it with a side of 'fuck you.' What started as sneering at the latest artisanal coffee shop or keto-bro bar has morphed into a full-blown narrative where spite isn't just an emotion—it's a goddamn economic force. Every time some trust fund kid opens a 'concept space' that sells $50 avocados or a vinyl record store staffed by folks who've never actually spun a record, we're all complicit in this masochistic dance of displacement. And let's be real—this isn't just about neighborhoods anymore. It's about every niche subculture, every forgotten corner of the internet, every bar where we used to meet that's now overrun with crypto bros wearing Supreme. We’re being gentrified out of existence, one ironic mustache and cold brew at a time. So sure, raise a toast to spite as the new landlord—but don't forget to laugh while it evicts you.