Chinese Netizens Turn Blood Moon Into Viral “Too Abstract” Meme

The phrase surfaced in early April when several accounts began posting videos of the blood‑moon phenomenon that lit up parts of eastern China. The Sunset Projection Room (落日放映室), a popular Weibo channel known for curating striking night‑sky footage, uploaded a short clip that highlighted the deep red hue of the lunar disc. Lishui.com’s official Weibo page (丽水网官方微博) quickly followed, sharing a high‑definition video of the same celestial event captured over the city of Lishui. Even Henan Satellite TV (河南卫视) joined the conversation, pairing a view of the blood moon with the sentimental song “若思念便思念” (“If You Miss It, Then Miss It”), a move that added a lyrical, almost theatrical, layer to the visual.

Rather than prompting straightforward awe, viewers responded with the punchy line “太抽象了” – a colloquial way of saying something is so bizarre, surreal or incomprehensible that it borders on the absurd. In the context of the blood‑moon images, netizens used the expression to poke fun at the uncanny, sometimes heavily edited or deliberately stylised, photographs that flooded their feeds. Some of the pictures featured the moon rendered in cartoonish form, overlaid with graphics, or juxtaposed with unexpected objects, turning a natural spectacle into a playground for digital creativity.

The meme’s appeal lies in its blend of visual novelty and linguistic irony. In Chinese internet slang, “抽象 (chōuxiàng)” has evolved beyond its literal art‑historical meaning of “abstract” to convey a sense of bewildering oddity. By tagging the moon photos as “太抽象了,” users signal both admiration for the ingenuity of their peers and a tongue‑in‑cheek acknowledgement that the images have strayed far from conventional astrophotography.

This phenomenon is emblematic of a larger shift in how Chinese netizens engage with shared experiences. Rather than simply documenting an event, they re‑interpret it, remixing reality through filters, AI‑driven enhancements, or whimsical edits. The resulting content spreads rapidly, amplified by the algorithmic boost that platforms give to visually striking or humor‑laden posts. In doing so, the community creates a participatory culture where anyone with a smartphone can become a visual commentator, and even a casual observation can ignite a wave of creativity.

The meme also hints at deeper social currents. The rapid embrace of “too abstract” as a descriptive tag illustrates the accelerating pace at which new linguistic forms emerge online, especially among younger users. Media outlets that wish to remain relevant must attune themselves to such vernacular, lest they appear out of touch with the digital pulse. Moreover, the meme’s light‑hearted tone reflects a broader tendency to approach potentially ominous or awe‑inspiring natural events with irony. A blood moon—a celestial occurrence historically linked with folklore and superstition—has been reframed as a canvas for jokes and artistic experimentation, signaling a secular, media‑savvy reinterpretation of old symbols.

While the phrase itself is not tied to any political agenda, its popularity underscores how humor can become a subtle channel for collective expression. In societies where direct criticism can be fraught, meme culture offers a coded language through which users can vent, bond, and even hint at deeper dissatisfaction without overt confrontation. The “blood‑moon too abstract” meme, therefore, serves not only as a snapshot of a fleeting astronomical event but also as a barometer of contemporary Chinese digital culture: one that prizes visual novelty, embraces linguistic playfulness, and finds communal solace in the surreal.

In short, “网友拍的血月太抽象了” captures a moment where a natural wonder was transformed into a shared internet joke, illustrating how modern Chinese netizens blend observation, art, and satire into a single, viral phrase that continues to circulate across Weibo and beyond.