The Boulevard of Broken Links
I was contacted by a documentary filmmaker today who's interested in studying the personal effects of 10 years of Web overexposure. She actually read my second book, written with Bill Lessard, and I had a good long talk with her. Because interest in the early, chaotic, years of the Web appears to be rising, I've decided to launch The Netslaves Archive, an area of Ghost Sites whose purpose is to serve as a sacred sanctuary for several notable years worth of lunacy, comedy, and anger that, over time, has grown even more bitter and bilious than it was when Netslaves.com was launched in 1998.
Do not venture into the archive without a flashlight, a hand grenade, and a tolerance for broken links. There in this damned chamber lies much of my life, soul, and memory. Netslaves.com is no more: it was swallowed in 2003 by the same cruel ocean that threatens every Web position in the galaxy. But because I myself am haunted, it staggers on, frozen in time, spectral, upon the Boulevard of Broken Links.