Not everything is amazing. Some things are, but not many. Not everything. Not all the links so labelled on Twitter. Not all the pop songs, films or sunsets, or scientific breakthroughs, hairdos or smaller-than-average dogs. Not all the online images tagged "amazing" are amazing – two of the first pictures that come up are a tattoo of a flower on a woman's arse and some pavement art that makes pedestrians look as if they're about to fall into a hole. Both of which are mildly diverting but no, not amazing.

I have a daily Google news alert set up for headlines with the word "amazing" in them. In the past 24 hours alone there have been 98, many about Olympic achievement, but an equal number about World of Warcraft, Lindsay Lohan, Somerset and Samsung. Somerset. Amazing.

It was when searching for some balance, some shade from the bright burning sun of internet amazingness that I found a thread on reddit.com labelled "mildly interesting". Here, more than 55,000 subscribers post stuff that is not amazing, not the "best x ever", but instead simply intriguing. Stuff that makes you go, "Oh yes, I see", or, "Right, got it". Things like a picture of a very tall person whose flatmate is very short. Or a mileometer photographed at 123456. Or a stain that looks like an electric guitar. Things you don't regret spending a second on because they promise very little, and they deliver it, quietly.

I love this. I love it like I love two years into a relationship. I love it like I love rereading novels. I love it like I love white-skied bank holiday weekends with just an inch of rain, or leftover Chinese takeaway – it'd be nobody's last meal, but it really does the job.

When everything's amazing, the problem is that very little actually thrills. Your hopes climb, only to be met by a photo of a yawning cat with the words "Can I Has Nap Now" scrawled across it in Corel Draw.

It didn't used to be this way. There has long been a cult of awesomeness in America, a pride and excitement at things like the biggest ball of yarn in the world, or a rollercoaster that reincarnates you as it drops, but Britain was always traditionally unimpressed. Unlike America, where hyperbole is the most important meal of the day, it used to be the way that in Britain, we really didn't like to make a fuss. Until we did.

Instances of the search term "amazing" in the UK since 2004 have quadrupled. Not only are we pointing out things that are amazing, we're actively searching out more. For those not yet taking shelter in "mildly interesting", only amazing will do, because the idea of that stiff British upper lip doesn't fit anymore.

In fact, there are few national traits which still stand up to even gentle interrogation. It's not that we're becoming more American – more patriotic or keener on girth. It's that we're becoming moreInternet. We no longer live in America or England – we all live online, in a sprawling yet homogenised no-man's land of tits and fear where our British disaffection coincides with their American pride, resulting in a constant chase for approval.

It's not that these things, these YouTube clips and photos of pies, are amazing – it's that we have found them and told you they're amazing; it's that there is so much noise here, that only the most amazing things will get heard.

We don't have to opt out, to move away from this, our high-ceilinged new home. We don't have to shun the amazing. But we should make time for the quieter, less amazing things, too. The small fonts, the local news, the gentle kindnesses. The things that don't require an immediate retweet.

Email Eva at e.wiseman@observer.co.uk or visit theguardian.com/profile/evawiseman for all her articles in one place. Follow Eva on Twitter @EvaWiseman