99% Invisible - 420- The Lost Cities of Geo

Episode Date: November 4, 2020

Geocities was an online collection of metropolises, each with their own neighborhoods built around shared interests. The city metaphor helped make a whole new group of users understand the world wide web for the first time. At its peak, it was the third most popular destination on the internet, but it quickly fell out of fashion as the web became more commodified and professional. Before it shuttered, a few digital archivists scooped up as much data as possible before all that early internet experimentation could be deleted. The Lost Cities of Geo Buy a signed copy of The 99% Invisible City today

This is 99% Invisible. I am Roman Mars. If there's one sound that instantly transports me back in time, it's this one, the dial-up modem tone. It reminds me of being in grad school in 1994. I was talking to one of my thesis advisors about the worldwide web and how much cool stuff was on there and how distracting it was, and he recommended that I take the weekend to go through

the whole thing and get it out of my system. The internet was so new that a person with a PhD thought you could literally finish it in one weekend. For me, the dial-up tone reminds me of being a kid in the early 90s. When I thought the internet was just that thing that my older tech savvy cousins logged on to the L.A.R.E.E. strangers. Now, what's that thing that everyone logs on to the yellow strangers?

That's millennial producer Vivian Leigh. It's weird to think about because I, along with probably the rest of you, have been spending about 97% of my waking life on Slack, or Twitter, or Netflix, or Google Docs, but I'm just old enough to remember a time before the internet was a requirement to participate in society. At time before, it was everywhere. It was this new thing that you heard about. I first heard about the internet. This is David Bonette.

I was reading a magazine, I think PC World or something like that, And I just thought, oh, this just sounds amazing. Today, David's a philanthropist and tech entrepreneur. But back in the early 1990s, he really wanted to do something great with this thing called the World Wide Web. Because the way he saw it, it was about to change the world for the better. David and his business partner,

a guy named John Resner, decided in order to be a part of this digital revolution, they would found in the internet company that hosted websites. The plan was straightforward enough. David and John would provide the online space and some basic tools so that individuals or companies could build their own web page.

And the company would host those pages on its servers. And because their office was based in Beverly Hills, they named their company Beverly Hills Internet. It will go down as having one of the worst names in history. Actually, Beverly Hills Internet was doing OK at first. It was starting to get some visitors to its website. But John and David found it difficult to get the kind of sustainable traffic

that they really wanted, mostly because of one huge early 90s problem. What is internet? Internet is that massive computer network. The one that's becoming really big now. What do you mean that's big? How does one know? What do you write to it like mail? Allison, can you explain what internet is? A lot of people didn't really get what internet was. Nobody really understood at the time what it meant to create a worldwide web of these kinds of connections where all computers

were talking with one another and sharing information. So I had the challenge both trying to explain to my friends what I was trying to do and the wider world at the same time. Even though today the internet is woven indoor every day lives, it wasn't that long ago that people had to make this enormously from a world with essentially no internet, to trying to conceptualize what a globally connected computer network meant, or what they

would even do with it? Before search engines like Google, or social networks, or apps, the web seemed like this confusing, nebulous blob of information. It was a strange new technology that was hard to wrap our brains around. Because David Ran in internet company, his business dependent on users, having some grasp of what the internet was. So it was his challenge to get people comfortable on the web. There's got, you know, we need to develop, we need to come up with something more.

They needed a hook. And one day in 1994, it just came to them. His hosting site didn't need a technological innovation. It needed a conceptual one. Users needed a new way of navigating the web. So we sketched out a plan to make his website feel more like a real neighborhood. You'd go through what was a two-dimensional representation of a neighborhood where you would see streets and blocks and you would see icons that represented houses and you would

actually pick an address that you wanted to create your website. And you had a sense that you were joining a neighborhood. David didn't want people to think of the web as something you logged on to, but more like a physical place to dwell in, like a house. When you signed up for a new web page, that web page was your house

in an online community of your choosing. This was all a new frontier and you were in a way of virtual homesteader. David and his team were endowing users with a sense of digital manifest destiny, one virtual neighborhood at a time. It was such a revolutionary idea that David and his partner decided to chuck out the whole Beverly Hills internet name and change their company to something that fully leaned into these spatial metaphor they were creating. They called it geositties. The story of geositties is just a fantastic parallel

for a real building, for something that was conceived of and created to model real life, but in the domain of cyberspace and which ultimately had a catastrophic and dramatic fall in the end. This is James Crawford, the author of Falling Glory, the lives and deaths of history's greatest buildings. Geocities was not a physical place, but he included it in his book because the way he sees it, it was inhabited like one. That was something that I think geosities was really providing, was creating these communities and then conceptualizing them as places.

As places you could go as neighborhoods on the net. So you could be a citizen of a city, of a country, and you could then be a netizen of somewhere like geosities. The website was a collection of metropolises, each with their own neighborhoods built around shared interests. There was a region called Heartland where you could discuss tractor models or Petsburg where you could talk endlessly about your cats or in Area 51 you could find page after page after page

of fan tributes to Dana Scully. As soon as David established this specialized version of the web, Juicities really began to click for people. David remembers how in the early days, he set up a little alert to go off anytime someone registered for a new account. So I'd be sitting in my office and we'll go dang,

and someone would say, what's that? And I would say, well, somebody just registered for their own page of juicities and they said, oh, that's cool? And I would say, well, somebody just registered for their own page of geosities. And they said, oh, that's cool. Then it went down. And then it really started to take off. Ultimately, it was just non-stop. Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding.

I mean, it was just, it was really, really exciting. You know, I would start to hear like, I mean, this is happening a lot. And so, of course, I had turned it off because it was too disruptive. David wanted users who built their web pages and geocities to feel like part of a community. That no matter how obscure their interests were,

they could find a neighbor who felt just as passionately as they did about Star Trek or 12th century Norse mythology. I think a lot of that comes from my own experiences as a gay man and coming out and meeting other lesbian and gay people and understanding the power of meeting others of your own identity. I think people came to it with more open minds and less desire to be performative in how they were interact online. It was this fleeting moment when users see more interest in making human connections

and honest self-expression than in cultivating a web persona. They just wanted to build something. They wanted to build something dedicated to Dana Scully. Hahaha. I was looking to give everybody the tools to create their own content and celebrate the terrific diversity, and richness, and tapestry of content created by users. There were, of course, some limitations to user-generated content.

Geocities was a website that was built by amateurs, and it showed. The color palettes of most geocities pages seemed like they were chosen randomly, or maybe even chosen with the intention of making them illegible, like neon green text over a neon yellow background. There were under construction signs, twinkling star backgrounds, grainy low-res family photos, welcome to my homepage gifs,. Or GIFs of Dancing Babies. You know, it was the Wild West, just different styles and different page layouts and different menus, bars and even, you know, experimenting with menus and pages that were only menus.

There was an absolute session with Comic-Songs font, you know, all these kind of things, flashing GIFs. comic songs, font, you know, all these kind of things, flashing gifts, all these things that are almost feel like a kind of early vomitus of the internet. Looking back to the lands of the flat design and minimalism that came after, it's hard to click through these pages without having a chuckle. It was a whole lot messier and much more chaotic,

but the pages built on Geosities reflected this amazing moment when people were attempting to figure out what the internet was and what it could be. It's this beginning of the creation of web culture and that's what's so interesting. It's the beginning of Paris, the website. It's translating your life who you are and putting it online. By 1998, Geosities was the third most visited website on the internet, just after Yahoo. In fact, Yahoo was so impressed with Geosities' rapid ascent that they bought the company from David. Executives at Geosities believed that combining forces with Yahoo would put the website

on steroids. But that wasn't what most geocities users wanted. Users had legitimate concerns that, you know, geocities will lose its independence and its identity, which is ultimately what happened. After the purchase, geocities users woke up to a notice saying they had to re-register, granting Yahoo the rights to? The wealthy free, perpetual, irrevocable, non-exclusive, and fully sub-licensable rights and lessons to use, re-brews, modify, adapt, publish, translate, create derivative works

from, distribute, perform, and display such content in whole or part worldwide and or to incorporate it in other works in any form, media or technology, now known or later developed. Meaning all of the content on the website would now be owned by Yahoo. Many threatened to leave the city in protest, and as a result of that Yahoo actually agreed to alter their terms of service. It was though the first real sign of unrest in the city. If you like it was the moment that signaled just the very beginning of the end. It was the beginning of the end, not just for geocities, but for a ton of internet companies around the web. The dot-com bubble had been rapidly inflating throughout the late 90s because investors were pouring money into internet startups left and right, and just crossing their

fingers that one day they'd be profitable. There was actually a mantra that you weren't a successful.com company unless you were losing money. By the year 2001, the bubble had burst, in corporations like Yahoo, we're losing their footing. The internet was starting to change fast. Up until this point, a lot of users had been working in a static entry-level version of the internet. It was more homemade, identifiable by those vibrant,

personal pages hand-built by users. It's where geosities had drived. But by the time the new millennium rolled around, the internet was evolving into a whole new experience. This internet was based around interactive social networking sites. You would punch in your name, age, and relationship status, and the site would spit out a manicured profile page. Users were encouraged to write on each other's walls and tag and comment. Geocities had created this great spatial metaphor to help people understand the web, but users were outgrowing that metaphor. Having a Geocities page began to feel embarrassing to a lot of users, which is basically a death sentence for any platform.

I can't shake up my geo-city's account. Hold on. Eee-eee-eee. Ah. Let me crank up the computer. Let me get a phone. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no I suppose because we're so close to it and we know the people who created these. Maybe there are parents, maybe there are older brothers or sisters and we don't necessarily respect it.

Yahoo! Stocks started to plummet shortly after a bot geocities and year after year the site was losing more users. From a business perspective, Geocities seemed like dead weight. July 2009, they sent what they call a service announcement. And all it says is that Geocities is closing and all files are going to be deleted from servers and will not be recoverable.

Geocities was about to be completely wiped out as if it had never existed. You know, even if you look at something like the dropping of a nuclear bomb, that still leaves ruins, it still leaves people, you know, those people can then grow something from the ashes. This is an absolute existential deletion of existence. You know, it has just taken and it is gone. This was the whole sale destruction of a website that changed the way that people looked at the internet.

A lot of people believe that these pages deserve to be saved. And a handful of people decided to actually do something about it. There's this sense always that like the web is permanent. Like if you do something terrible, it's on the internet forever. And if you have one embarrassing photo and someone shares it, it'll never go away. And I'm here to tell you that now it'll probably all go away.

This is Jason Scott. Jason actually has a few roles. He's a digital archivist, historian, software curator, angel of death. So the reason I'm known as the angel of death is because I have successfully let people know that when a certain kind of situation happens, call Jason Scott.

The situation is that a website is on the brink of its demise, and all of its digital information is about to be lost forever. Jason's job is to swoop in and download all of that data before it's gone for good. And like the angel of death, Jason's face is the last thing that a dying website sees before it's gone for good. Back in 2009, before he became the go-to savior of the old web, Jason was noticing more and more that old school hosting services like Geocities were going dark. He couldn't stop thinking about all the user-generated content that was being destroyed in the process.

The one that still haunts me is this woman who in 1994 made an entire website in HTML about her child who had died when he was two, and she's got a little, you know, candle gif and a little midi song playing in the background, and this was her story. Jason wanted to make sure sites like Jews, in their data, weren't just erased. So we connected with a group of like-minded digital preservation enthusiasts scattered around the world, and they drafted a plan. Somebody should come in, there should be an A-Team, an archive team that rushes in and makes a copy. Wouldn't that be something? So we announced that we're an archive team.

We're going to rescue your s**t, and that was our slogan. We're going to rescue your s** and that was our slogan. We're gonna rescue your sh**. Archive team decided their mission was to keep an eye out for websites in danger of being shut down. The ones that they say are on Death Watch and download every piece of data they could before that site goes dark. Their goal is to preserve digital heritage no matter how small. In their first project, geosities. For us it was worth it because we hate Yahoo. But it wasn't solely about saying up yours to Yahoo. Yahoo!

Okay, well that was a very big part of it, but it was also about something bigger. I also wanted people to kind of get knocked in the head about the impermanence of digital information, that it was both brittle and easily lost, but also with a little bit of care, easily saved and kept. Archive team had a dual mission. In addition to preserving things, they also want us to understand that digital information is fragile. The profiles you build on any social media site, the videos you upload to YouTube, they all exist out of

your hands and on some corporation servers, and they can vanish at any given moment. They have no idea that it can literally, literally disappear in a week or a day, and it just come to it and there's an error and it's gone, and I get to see that over and over and over again. So that's, you know, I'm delighted that they're making these worlds, and I'm cynical about how long they last. Yahoo! had hinted in early 2009 that it would be closing down the service sometime later that year, so geocities could have maybe a few months or a few days. Archive team got to work immediately trying to recruit as many people as possible to help with what Jason referred to as geocities download a pollusa. I started using whatever social media capital I had at the time, and about 200, I think

300 people in total came in, and it was really lumpy. They had their computers crawling Yahoo servers to pull out any piece of public Geo City's data they could get. And we were just doing it day in and day out and saying, okay, who wants to take this part over, who wants to do this part? Let's look for this. Let's do searches on the web for every noun in the dictionary. Try to find every Geoity site that mentions any noun,

and then try to compile them into a unique set and then assign it to people to download. Then, on October 26, 2009, after six months of work, the day they all dreaded finally came. Archive team watched from their respective computers as the digital city slowly went offline for good. Jason said that watching Yahoo pull the plug was like something out of 2001 a space odyssey. It is exactly like shutting down how. And we will be like this set has gone down. They've now powered down this server. They've now powered down this server. Archive team was still working as fast as possible to grab whatever geosities data was left, while the servers went dark one by one. Well, like, here it goes.

We just lost this one. We just lost this one. Keep going, keep going. And we're just going until finally it's just not responding meaningfully at all. I mean, that's pretty much the ending of every one of these stories. It's us packing up the boxes, putting them on the pallets. You know, so it's this pride that we got the job done, but it really feels like we lifted a piano up 20 stories

and then took it down again, you know, 20 minutes later. Like, yep, we were good piano movers. But it wasn't all for nothing. In the end, archiveive Team managed to extract a terabyte of data from geosities. And as it turns out, there were multiple parallel projects that were downloading geosities data. A lot of them have sent their data to Jason for safe keeping. Altogether, Archive Team saved more than a million accounts from Joletion. Archive Team wanted to bring some attention to their work, so they took all of that

Geocities data they'd preserved, and they turned it into a torrent on the pirate bay. The pirate bay is generally used for illegally downloading games, movies, and software, so no one really saw this coming. You're like, we have the hottest new where for you. Here's GeoCities. And it was the largest torrent at its time. It broke everything. And when it got uncompressed, it turned out Windows machines couldn't handle it. People were furious because it's terrible. Like, why am I doing this? It's telling me I have, you know, 19 months to download.

Surely it's some sort of top secret, you know, allocation of information of the darkest parts of the web. And it's like, no, it's cats. And it's lots of rock, been rolled, fan sites. And it's families telling you that they're going to have a barbecue. Jason wasn't sure what people would actually do with the Geo City's data, but that really

wasn't his concern. He just wanted to make sure that it was safe and available to anyone who wanted it, and maybe, if he was lucky, something useful would come out of it down the line. I long to go got out of the argument of what good is this. Actually, a number of people have downloaded the Geosities Torrent and have made some really cool projects with that data. A good amount of Geosities pages have been restored and you can browse through them online.

Since saving Geosities, Jason and the archive team have preserved a number of dying websites around the internet, from Yahoo groups to Justin.tv. It's all accessible on a digital archive called Wayback Machine, where you can find over 477 billion saved web pages. The Wayback Machine was founded by the internet archive, where Jason Scott is now an archivist. A lot of time and energy went into rescuing geocities,

along with a ton of other archaic sites from this generation of the web. But I want to be clear, none of this was salvaged as examples of how well the web worked back in the day. No one needs more net scape now buttons, or Backstreet Boys fan pages. I think we're good on Backstreet Boys fan pages. The point is, these archives should be studied, because our web history is our history, no matter how goofy it might appear.

If the internet's history were sketched to look like the march of progress, that famous illustration charting human evolution with an ape on one side and a man on the other, geosities would be like that third guy from the right, a little hairy, a little clumsy, but definitely an important link that made us what we are today. I mean, it's not necessarily art, but it's absolutely culture. James Crawford again.

You know, this is what we've all was done, as humans, you know, going back to the earliest marks we put on the caves, is you're presented with a surface and what do you do with it? How do you mark it? How do you represent who you are on that space? And, you know, a number of people have made this comparison between the kind of cave paintings of last goal and what was happening on geocities. And it seems like a bizarre, almost absurd comparison to make.

But actually, if we fast forward another 10,000 years and look back, that's absolutely what it was. It was people grappling with a new technology and how to represent their humanity in that space. You can imagine thousands of years from now. Pass the boundary of the cringey recent past to a future human, dusting off an old PC desktop from 1997, finding a geocities torrent, and taking an anthropological exploration of what's inside.

So the first thing they're going to do is just waste a week trying to figure out if they're getting the colors wrong. Like they're going to look at these backgrounds, and they're gonna be like, this is objectively illegible, and they're gonna check the specs, check the specs, and go, nope! Those people had no taste! What was going on there? And the answer was, the sky was the limit.

So, why not? Yellow on pink. Why not? Blinking text saying that this is your homepage and then an animated gif with three frames of a waving care bear right next to your description of, you know, love for Jesus. This future person is going to discover a tiny window of web history, where people were trying their best to chart a course through completely unknown territory. Where users took chances and weren't ashamed

to look a little messy or garish or hopeful. They're gonna see this boundless joy of people who are unfettered by feeling that they have to sell themselves to present their best faces. And they'll see a lot of lies, a lot of truth, a lot of honesty, but it's gonna come from a person talking to you. Because geosities made it easy to work in the code of the web, but it didn't teach you

to be a performer. So that's what they're going to find, and they're not going to believe it. They're going to assume this was all a trick. Nobody could be this nice. Nobody could be this forward. No one could be this personal, but they were. We have another story about a different virtual apocalypse after the break. So we're back with Vivian who brought us that story about geocities. Hey Viv. Hello, how are you?

I'm good. I'm good. So one of the reasons why we do these code is we have all this stuff that's on the cutting room floor that doesn't quite fit into the story, but it's so good that we just want to talk about it. So let's talk about it. So something that we kind of alluded to in the main piece, but didn't really spend a lot of time getting into was the afterlife of the GeoCity's data that was saved by archive team. Right. So we kind of focused on like the life, death, and preservation of GeoCity's, but we didn't

really dip into what people have done with it afterwards because the story kind of felt complete on its own, but there's a lot there. Right. So what are people making with this, Joe, cities data? So probably one of my favorite projects is this website called camminsworld.net, which was created by this web designer named Cameron Askin. And I don't really know how to describe it other than saying it's like, it's like everything that the Space Jam website wishes it was.

Like I don't even, like I really don't know how to explain it, but it's just a really cool way to kind of click through and view old geocities pages. And like there's this theme song that loops around that's been playing in my head for like the last two months. Like it's great, so you should definitely look at it. Another website that's worth checking out is called deletedcity.net, which is this awesome,

like interactive map created by a designer named Richard Vigen, where you could browse through the geosities neighborhoods as if they're neighborhoods on a city grid. So it's really cool to be able to zoom in and see it. If it were an actual city, this is what it would look like. That's cool. That's cool. But one project that I really want to talk about is called One Terabyte of the Killabite Age. And it was created by two people named Oliya Liyalina and Dregan Espenshid. And it's an archive of almost 400,000 Geosities pages.

And I originally spoke with Oliya for the piece because she had this really interesting relationship with Geosities and the old web because she was a webmaster and web design professor back in like the mid 90s. And she told me that she used to save web pages like the ones in geocities so she could show her students examples of like how not to build a good web page. Like don't use like twinkling star backgrounds or a million of the colors or those under construction signs that are never taken off. Yeah, yeah, like don't do this.

I see. But you know, she said that she was noticing the shift from, you know, web 1.0 to web 2.0 in real time towards the end of the late 90s in the beginning of the early 2000s because it was getting a lot harder for her to find like the twinkling star backgrounds or the welcome to my homepage chips. You mean homepage gifs? Yes, homepage gifs. Like, we're not going to start this right now. Okay, keep going.

But like, you know, because she started seeing that they're like disappearing, she really started to study these things and like really love the design of the early web because of what it represented. Because of very pragmatic reasons, I started to collect them just in all safe graphics. And it was not because I thought at the time that you should archive the web, or you can have some historic significance.

But then I realized that it's not just some funny websites that disappear, but visions of how the worldwide web should be. They are getting changed. So when the GeoCity's TORN got released on the Pirate Bay, Oli and Dragan like immediately downloaded it and have been studying it ever since. But what I really like about the work that they're doing is that this is not a nostalgic exercise. They're really looking at what these early web elements can teach us about our relationship with the web in the 90s and early 2000s. Like if you look at something like the under construction sign for example. On the construction sign it's not just a

far near picture. It's not just a symbol for the old website but I tried to explain what does it mean exactly? Why is it important? So basically, the under construction sign was a symbol for this moment when the web was being hand-built by amateur users. And there was this general acceptance that a website could be a work in progress. Like, you could take your time, and it was okay for people

to get a glimpse of the building process before it was finished. But that all changed with the introduction of Web 2.0 because more professional web designers were taking over and big social networking sites were taking over. On the construction sign was really the first one that professional designers started to remove from their website because,

oh, how can it be that something is not ready? I never thought about that before, like the disappearance of the under construction sign, really a signal that's not to read you. Huh. I never thought about that before. Like the disappearance of the under construction sign, really signaled this move towards a kind of corporate version of the internet. Yeah, that's what Oli believes. And like, this is just a one aspect of how GeoCities is being studied.

But I thought this was cool because projects like this basically show that it's possible to apply some sort of like archeological lens to this website that a lot of people wrote off is useless. Yeah, I mean, it totally makes sense to me. I mean, that you would tell us what we were thinking at the time that you needed to put up a site so badly, like within 10 minutes that you had to put an under construction sign on there. But you might take with it or you might just leave it, you know, like, we're not. Yeah, I actually, I'm the carest, at this time who cared. Yeah, why not?

So tell me her project's name again. So it's called one terabyte of the kilobite age. That's such a good name. I love it. I mean, people should definitely check that out because I mean, it's like, they'll have a whole new appreciation for under construction signs. And what we think of is ugly graphics that really made the wetwood is today. Yes, exactly.

The whole time that we were putting this piece together, I was reminded of this story that I did originally for Stomp Judgment, but we played it on 9 MPI before about the destruction of an online community, which was also a really sad story in many ways. And so I wanted to just like attach it here to play it for you. So you can do it. Yay! I love the story. Here it is. A few months before the end of the world, Paul Monaco posted this message on YouTube.

Hello, everyone. Paul Monaco here. Buddha Paul is most of you know me as um you probably all heard the news, Ye land, the Simpson line closing down. The world that was ending was called The Sims Online. It was an online version of one of the most popular computer games ever made. You've all been wonderful, you helped me through a hard time in my life when I first got online. games ever made. But ironically, the online version of The Sims was not very popular. They ended up losing tons of subscribers and changing the name to EA Land, and then they finally pulled the plug. Let's try to stay in touch. And it's not to go back with whatever you choose to do and move on to.

As you can probably hear, EA Land is not a normal video game. There are no monsters, no killing. And although it had some competitive elements, for many players competition doesn't the point at all. Unlike a lot of other games where you might be shooting people or slaying dragons or something, this was a game about socializing. That's Robert Ashley. I'm Robert Ashley. He produces a very popular and fantastic internet radio show that's been on a very long hiatus. I'm the creator of a life well wasted. A life well wasted.

It's about video games and the people who love them. And EA Land was a video game that a dedicated few absolutely loved. The crowd that attracted, I think, were people who just wanted to get together and sort of chat, meet strangers. It was a nice place. Over time, it became a kind of intimate, almost bar,

like the cheers of video games, where everyone knows your name. And at the moment that Paul Monaco, aka Buddha Paul, found EA Land, it was exactly what he needed most. My wife had a long-term illness. From a blood transfusion she had hepatitis C. And the last three years or so of her life were pretty, pretty much a blood transfusion she had hepatitis C. And the last three years or so in her life were pretty, pretty much a challenge for her. Well, for both of us. And after she passed away, I had absolutely no function of then to wake up, go to work, and go to sleep again. With her illness, I didn't get out of socialized much. We weren't able to go out to the bars and meet up with

friends and have dinner. I totally be socialized myself. And this game was kind of a way for me to just kind of get back into living again. It was pretty amazing. In Paul began to live for E.A. Land. He would play it for hours and hours. It was the first thing he did when he got home from work. You treated to a big warm greeting everyone would say hi and you know your I.M.s would be beeping along and you'd be hitting it with that. It made you feel really good. It wasn't the real world, but his friends were real friends. In virtual worlds, do have an upside. You're a race, you're a college religion, all that can be totally masked, and you're truly judged on who you really are

and how you present yourself. There's no prejudice, there's no preconceived anything. It's just, you're really taking that face value. People could really like break loose and be themselves and have some fun. It just feels really good. But Paul's Utopia didn't last because E.A.L.A. and started hemorrhaging money. The writing was on the wall, the server was about to go dark, and this event, this virtual

apocalypse, might only exist in the memory of the players, if it weren't for Dr. Henry Lowwood. I had just stumbled across this project by Henry Lowwood. My name is Henry Lowwood, who is this archival researcher at Stanford. And I had a project called How They Got Game, which is on the history of digital games and simulations. Saving video games for future generation. You know, 50, 100, 200 years from now. How are we going to save that history? You know, like we've got to save the video games for future generation, you know 50 100 200 years from now How are we gonna save that history you know like we've got to save the video games

So dr. Loewood in his colleagues preserve what happens inside video games now for a single player game like Pac-Man For example, this is easy you effectively take out the Atari cartridge and put it on the shelf But saving multiplayer online games is not so simple. Saving the software alone is kind of a barren exercise. If you save the code for Eiland and turn it on 100 years from now, you'd enter a world and nothing would be there. All the things that Paul Monagone's friends love would be impossible to find.

You need to document what people are doing in these faces. That situation is much more like what a historian on archivists would do when faced with the problem of documenting the real world. To see what it would be like when an online world came to an end. What happens when a virtual world closes? The end of a culture. What is it like to be there in the last minute and when it shuts down? So the tape is rolling in the last few hours

via land or being recorded. And the most dedicated die hard users are there, exchanging virtual hugs and reminiscing. The players are typing messages that appear like comic book word bubbles. You hear all these avatars cry. And you also hear all the coos and moans and the gibberish language of the game known as simlish.

And you know, they sound like they're gonna be bummed and everything, but it's not like a big pity party. But then toward the end of the night, there's this radio station that you can listen to in the game called Charmed Radio. And they had this DJ there named Spike. He is sort of the only voice that you went appearing at the end of the world. And as soon as he starts talking, you understand what is being lost. soon as he starts talking, you understand what is being lost. I can't stress enough how much you guys have been to me over the past however many years it's been. Really has been awesome ad.

Some people don't get attached to things, but when you make friends, I look people living in this game. It's actually really hard. So, I'm going to play the last song. It's Sarah Brightman and Andrea Bacheli. Time to say goodbye. Hopefully you guys will like. It's been such a long time. My Yahoo ID is 1,345.

D-*** Anyway, 1,345. You're lucky to like everybody and best wishes. I love you all and it's been great knowing you. Take care guys and let's just, I just want to, even if you haven't got a drink, propose a toast to Parasad, who's been absolutely amazing. Parasad, we can have done this for that.

Thank you. I can have done this without you. Thank you. You get this feeling like being on the deck of the Titanic. Anyone who actually stayed to begin was very much invested in the game on an emotional level. When they pulled the plug on the server, bits and pieces of the world started disappearing. The environment began to disintegrate. The texture on the trees flickered, and all the people froze, in blanked out of existence.

The actual ending was, you know, not with a bang, with a whimper. And the last thing that they saw was basically just an error message, a server disconnect message. And then, the world ended. That story was originally produced for the great public radio show Snap Judgment in 2010. 99% Invisible was produced this week by Vivian Leigh, mixed by Bryson Barnes, music by Sean Riel. Our senior producer is Delaney Hall, Kurt Colessted is the digital director. The rest of the team is Christopher Johnson, Emmett Fitzgerald, Chris Baroube,

Joe Rosenberg, Katie Mingle, Abbey Madonna, Sophia Klatsker, and me Roman Mars. Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster Rooster buildings, geosities is just one small section of that book. There are a ton of other fascinating stories about lost and ruined buildings. We'll have a link to that as well. We are a project of 91.7 KLW in San Francisco and produced on Radio Row, which lives at various places all over North America, but is centered in beautiful downtown, Oakland, California. We are a founding member of Radio Topia from PRX, a fiercely independent collective of the most innovative listeners supported 100% artist-owned podcasts in the world, by them all, at radiotopia.fm.

You can tweet at me at Roman Mars and show at 99pi.org, or on Instagram and read it too. You can now order the New York Times bestseller, the 99% invisible silly, at 99PI.org slash book of links to purchase it everywhere that you get books, including signed editions from Barnes & Noble, and at various indie bookstores from the country, links to the audiobook, and if you got the book and enjoyed it, review it somewhere. It's a huge boost to us.

Also, if you see it out on display at your local bookstore, tweet me a picture. I usually retweet those because it's fun to see them out in the world. For all your other 99PI needs, look no further than 99PI.org. Radio tapio. From PRX.