It’s interesting to me that my time invested in this site, my writing, and the various social platforms has ultimately come down to not be worth anything as far as the algorithms are concerned. I’m not alone in this – the internet is littered with dead sites and every social platform has more dead accounts than active ones.
The promise of the internet has failed – but I wonder if at some point the dead will rise again. It will be interesting if this site and the millions of others like it someday have historical significance to researchers. As someone who has worked in archaeology and the antiques business however, I can tell you that the vast majority of ancient things aren’t worth very much. There are millions of pot sherds and iron nails and old beer cans – but every once in a while – one ends up being worth a fortune. The things that consistently are worth money are the things that are hard to find AND desirable. Things made of gold, unbroken vessels, items that can be proven to have belonged to historical figures, artworks by ancient masters. Those are rarities – which is why they end up in museums or the collections of ultra-wealthy connoisseurs of the arts.
I will almost certainly not live long enough to see collectors mining this version of the internet for unique things. I will almost certainly not be important enough in the scheme of things to matter. Still, it is fun to think about.
Almost as much fun is to have my AI personal story teller compose a story about it. Art and story composed from the same prompt. Here it is:
In the not-so-distant future, digital archaeology had become a respected profession, a pursuit that sent researchers delving into the depths of the early internet—Web1 and Web2—as if they were excavating ancient ruins. Among these archaeologists, there was one who stood out from the rest: Dr. Eliza Harper, a passionate explorer of the digital past.
Dr. Harper’s mission was to sift through the digital debris, piles of discarded blogs, remnants of long-forgotten adult sites, and the lingering stench of spam that had infested the early web. She’d spent years honing her skills, navigating through the labyrinthine servers and databases of a time when the internet was wild and uncharted.
One day, while diving into the muck and mire of the digital underworld, she stumbled upon a peculiar file. It was titled ‘VAGOBOND.’ The name alone piqued her curiosity, as it was unlike anything she’d encountered before. She clicked on it, and her screen filled with lines of cryptic code and fragmented data.
The ‘VAGOBOND’ file seemed to be some sort of digital treasure hunt, a puzzle encrypted in the very fabric of the early internet. Dr. Harper’s heart raced as she realized she was onto something significant, something that could rewrite the history of the web.
She delved deeper, following a trail of clues scattered across obscure forums, archived chat rooms, and hidden corners of the internet. Each piece of the puzzle brought her closer to unlocking the secrets of ‘VAGOBOND.’ It was a relentless journey, fraught with dead ends and red herrings, but Dr. Harper’s determination knew no bounds.
As she pieced together the fragments of code and data, a narrative emerged. ‘VAGOBOND’ was more than just a treasure hunt; it was a digital testament, a time capsule of a bygone era. It told the story of a wanderer named Vago, a nomad of the early internet who traversed the virtual world, leaving traces of his existence in the form of enigmatic code and cryptic messages.
Vago, it seemed, was a digital philosopher, a lone voyager who sought to understand the essence of the web and the human experience within it. His musings on life, technology, and the interconnectedness of all things were scattered throughout the ‘VAGOBOND’ files.
Dr. Harper was captivated by Vago’s wisdom and insight. She felt as though she had uncovered a hidden treasure of knowledge, a glimpse into the mind of a visionary who had roamed the uncharted territories of the early internet.
With each revelation, Dr. Harper’s determination grew stronger. She was no longer just a digital archaeologist; she was a guardian of a digital legacy. She knew that ‘VAGOBOND’ was a treasure worth preserving, a testament to the pioneers of the web and the wisdom they had left behind.
In the end, Dr. Eliza Harper didn’t just uncover a treasure; she became a part of it. She dedicated her life to preserving the ‘VAGOBOND’ files, ensuring that Vago’s wisdom would not be lost to the sands of digital time. As she continued her exploration of the early internet, she knew that there were more treasures waiting to be unearthed, more stories to be told, and more lessons to be learned from the digital past.