how/why did you join MelonLand or the indie web?
I've always been part of the "indie web", even before
the term first appeared about 1997. But I can trace my journey back even further than when I made my first pages in around 1996:
Prior to the popularisation of the Internet and the Web, I was active on a variety of dial-up bulletin boards (BBSes), including acting as co-SysOp/SysOp on a couple of them (if you're not familiar with BBSes, their history, and its influence on community-building in cyberspace, I highly recommend
Jason Scott's comprehensive documentary!). BBSes were somewhat centralised compared to the "indie web", but they were still, without a doubt, fiercely independent: each an entity unto itself and with its own personality and culture.
This experience clearly influenced my ideas on what the Web
could be. I absolutely bought into the promise that the Web was a force for free speech and democracy, and that we were moving towards a point at which anybody - and everybody - could and probably would someday have an the very least a "home page" (of the traditional sense).
So I started launching sites around 1996 and starting blogging (although I didn't call it that, either) in 1998. And then... I didn't really stop. There was a big dip in my bloggy output in the early 2000s -
hey look, I've got a graph! - and a couple of smaller ones later as I occasionally experimented with centralised social media... but the
inevitable and gradual enshittification of profit-making centralised social networks was frustrating to me.
Plus, before long I was discovering that my personal Web presence was beginning to provide value in
longevity. My blog predates Twitter, LinkedIn, Facebook, and YouTube... and there's no reason to believe that it can't
outlive those services too (it existed both before and after Google+!), so long as
I live long enough to see their end... and I've already seen changes to every one of those services to show me that a centralised social silo doesn't have to completely die to become... well... useless. So why would I trust one of these services to be the primary home for the things I put onto the Internet? So over the noughties I transitioned to a solid
POSSE model: my site is the single primary source-of-truth in my life, and where I choose to syndicate things to other services... that's a convenience for other people: I duplicate my vlogs to YouTube, but I see that as a temporary state of affairs - if in another 20 years a different service makes more sense, I'll syndicate there instead... but my site will remain the "official" copy.
I came to Melonland only very recently. I've skirted around the edge of it for a while, read threads occasionally, but eventually decided I should be more... I don't know... "chatty" with other folks who treat the Web as an artistic canvas and who share my dream of a Web 1.x Renaissance!
is there anything you've noticed about MelonLand or the indie web that's different from the modern/corporate web?
The independent Web has
artistic personality, in a way that the corporate web squashes dead.
Over time, big social media silos converge on the optimal design for locking you into their walled garden, for providing the simplest and blandest possible experience for everything, for taking a dull and broad brush and applying it to everything. They do this because they crave the currency of attention, which allows them to be paid by advertisers and to maximise the amount of behavioural data they can collect from you.
The trend is towards cleanliness, simplicity, and uniformity. The focus is on the underlying corporation. The criteria for success are engagement, SEO metrics, and revenue. The insidious nature of this approach infects the creators on these platforms too: YouTubers tell you not to forget to "like and subscribe" because the ones who don't get pushed to the periphery of a window of discovery, which in turn narrows over time as the platform optimises for maximal engagement for the widest possible audience. The mainstream of each filter bubble is uplifted by the algorithms and visitors become more and more tightly-funnelled into the same pigeonholes, unable to see the artistry that comes from dissent.
Whether countercultural or merely individualised, the indie web instead puts personality and humanity at its centre. Because their metrics for success are different from the corporate Web, creators can make exploratory choices that step outside the corporate norms. Don't want your logo always in the top left and the top right is for a login form or search box? That's fine, you can lay things out however you like. Don't care about SEO because your space is for
you first and foremost and for perhaps those who surf through serendipity second... that's great! Ignore the "best practices" that Google tries to insist you use and just do your own damn thing. The indie web embraces the fact that the Internet
belongs to all of us: a true commons that everybody can speak in, not the curated town squares of the social media silos.
what about comparing it to the older web like what Geocities was originally? why do you think that?
Back when Geocities and the like were at their heyday, the Web was primarily explored by surfing. Search engines were... not great, yet (I mean, they're not great
now but for different reasons!), and so you'd curate a collection of links in your Bookmarks folder (or on your homepage) and you'd rely on the pages you visited to provide links to explore elsewhere. But when you
did use a search engine... sometimes you'd find a gem! Because the results weren't great you'd sometimes find yourself on the second, third or fourth page, and who knows what you'd discover! You were looking for a song title based on half-remembered lyrics and by page four of Excite or Yahoo! you'd have discovered somebody's personal pages where they wrote a poem with some similar words and now you'd have clicked-on through their webring and spotted somebody whose username seemed familiar from an IRC channel you were in, once, and you're wondering if they're the same person when you get distracted by the timeline they've made of the pets they've ever owned and... what were you looking for again? Who cares.
Nowadays, the search engines drop people on the page they asked for... and that's it. Well, not even that: they drop people on the page they
think is best, based on a variety of criteria that are often unfriendly to the pages of individual humans. Actually... not even
that: nowadays they give searchers a crappy AI summary of the first page of results, often without citations, and nobody even gets to see the web design of the pages they're reading.
So nowadays some - not all! - individual creators go multiplatform. You can publish on your own site, but if you want the self-satisfied feeling of getting engagement with what you've poured your soul into (it's fine if you do: we're a social species!... it's also fine if you don't care!), you might also need to "pay the game". For example: my longer blog posts get crossposted to a Facebook page that provides a summary and a link back to the original. I don't like it, but there are people who read my blog who
expect to find posts there or they won't see them.
So that's the difference today: independent creators are more-marginalised by search engines and need to work harder if they care about being "seen".
Wow, this turned into an essay, didn't it?
Oh, and also:
I'm... officially old (30)
You're only ever as old as you feel. I started writing HTML (just barely) before you were born,
@torrent-empress! But it's all just a number, for real.