Outside of IM, in the mid-2000s the Internet was more of a space of personal expression and burgeoning e-commerce.

There was Geocities and Anglefire where anyone could create a personal homepage with rudimentary HTML skills. You could show off your personality and share your interests, and (some) others would be excited to find you and sign your guest book. You’d be excited every time the hit counter on your page went up.

Talking in real-time, over IRC usually, was the first taste of true globalisation for many. There were other, older forums around like BBCs, but these were even more techno-niche nerd havens. The web forum (PHPBB) later came along and created what I consider to be the protoweb of what we have today. Profiles, display pictures, post counts, threads and boards, etc.

Another large difference was that the Internet was still a very collaborative space. Services usually had open APIs, so that you could write or use software that brought the services you wanted into the format you prefer. Think: all of your IM accounts in one messaging app, all of your website news feeds delivered to an RSS reader, and data that easily flowed from one space to another. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before these same services saw the business sense in restricting users from exporting their data, thus confining them to “walled gardens” where they were readily subjected to ads, and without recourse to leave. And thus the API died.

There was essentially no presence of celebrity on the net as we know it today. Before MySpace, at least, you would be required to go out and search for Sean Connery’s personal blog, or Paris Hiltons fashion tips. Today, it’s difficult to avoid these things being pressed upon you. At this point in time, you chased people, now it seems the web has them chasing you.

Commerce was a commonplace part of the net as early as the 90s, depending on your idea of commonplace. Nobody trusted computers with their financial data like credit cards. Giving your address to a seller felt wildly reckless… until it didn’t. A little bookstore called Amazon started the novel idea of efficient online sales with less of the burden of storage, eBay rose seemingly overnight, Elon Musk made his fortune selling PayPal, we all collected Net Beans like they’d be worth anything.

Video playback and other multimedia features bled their way into the web from the millennium onward. Online journalism felt like it was in it’s fittest shape.

There was a huge culture of shareware in every market. Shareware games, file utilities, media players, everything. It was how you hoped to be discovered as a software author. We’d load diskettes with Bonzai Buddy and cursor themes and trade them with friends in break rooms and schoolyards. The coolest among you know how to find pirated games and bootleg software.

Comment sections were truly, deeply, disgusting hives of scum and villainy.