Welcome to the InterWebs

The travellers sat in a carriage that was a little bit too small for them. Pressed against their neighbours, they were privy to things they weren’t sure they wanted to know.

Outside, the world streaked past, faster than you’d expect, but slower than they wanted it to.

In the front of the carriage a bored tour guide stood up and turned to them.

‘And here we leave the last vestiges of Reality. If you look out of your windows, you can see it trickling away.’ She started to look less bored and more peppy.

‘Right!’

She had cheered up immeasurably, obviously Reality bored her. ‘We’re nearly there. Do you have your checklists?’

‘Yes.’ they all chimed back at her.

The colour streaked back into the tour guide’s face and slowly she became prettier and curvier too. The lack of Reality suited her.

‘Let’s go through the checklist now. Do you all have your About Pages?’

A hand streaked into the air and a small mousey woman began to speak.

‘I don’t have an About Page. I’d really just prefer people didn’t know who I was…’ she trailed off as the tour guide glared at her.

‘You need an About Page.’

‘But -‘

‘You need an About Page.’ she turned to the entire carriage and swept her arms wide.’You all need About Pages. Do you know why?’

They didn’t know why, but no one was game to say so.

The tour guide sighed. ‘Look out there! Go on, look!’

They peered out of the windows, the carriage had slowed now. Outside were thousands of people, absorbing information from every venue. They looked … animated.

‘Those people, they don’t care about you.’ the tour guide boomed. ‘They have no idea who you are and frankly, they don’t give a shit. You could be the next Christ and they wouldn’t give a fuck. Not without an About Page.’

‘But I want to be anonymous. I don’t want -‘

The tour guide cut her off again.

‘Lady, everyone is anonymous here. No one cares who you are in Reality, this is the InterWebs. You can be whoever you like. Just for Gods sake, write yourself an About Page. Fictionalise it, anything, but you will not survive without one. People will look at you and if they don’t know who you are in the InterWebs, they will slide right past. Short attention spans you see.’

‘Oh.’

‘It’s nothing personal.’

The mousey woman bent to her laptop and started typing. Slowly she grew brighter and a little taller too. Her eyes sparkled and she looked less mousey.

The tour guide reiterated ‘You can be anyone here. No one cares.’

With a flurry of heads they all bent to their About Pages and updated themselves; the change in the mousey woman spurring them on. By the time the train drew into the station, they were all shining with confidence.

‘Okay’ said the tour guide. ‘Sorting time.’

‘Sorting?’ someone asked.

‘Yes, sorting. You have to know where you fit into the InterWebs don’t you? Otherwise you’ll get nowhere and I’ll have to take you back to Reality.’

‘Oh.’

They shuffled nervously, no one wanted to be sorted.

‘Right, you. What do you write about?’

‘Ummm, my children mostly -‘

‘MUMMYblogger. Go and stand over there.’

‘But I’m not a MUMMYblogger…’

‘You write about your children, right?’

‘Yes…’

‘And occasionally you’ll post recipes. You dabble in photography and sometimes your photos work and sometimes they don’t, but you post them anyway. You’ll accept money to review products and you will enjoy the free stuff.’

‘Ummmm -‘

‘You sound like a MUMMYblogger. Don’t worry, the InterWeb has thousands of them. You’ll find plenty of people that you like. Hell, you might even write a book and wouldn’t that be just what Reality needs?’

The tour guide sounded cynical.

‘What do you write about?’

‘Technology and stuff.’

‘You’re in for Tech then.’

‘Xbox Games’

‘Oh, another gamer. Exactly what we needed’

‘The state of the InterWebs’

She sighed. ‘Geek. Another one.’

‘Fashion and Reality Stars’

‘Really? That’s who you are?’

He nodded.

‘Right. Perez Hilton wannabe’

Slowly they were sorted, whether they liked it or not.

The tour guide stood and looked at her little group. ‘These niches aren’t all defining. You’re not stuck there forever, it’s just where you’ll be happiest. You may branch out, you can write about anything. The InterWebs isn’t like Reality, there are no rules here.’

They nodded impatiently, wanting to leave the too small carriage as fast as possible.

‘Can we go now?’ the Perez Hilton wannabe asked.

‘As soon as we go over the last of the checklists. You’ve got About Pages? And Content? You also need a Contact Page, otherwise no one will be able to find you.’

They checked their files and nodded again.

‘Right, you’re good to go then. Remember, some of you will find Sponsors and some of you won’t. It would be wise to create a BlogRoll once you find a group you like. Have a walk around your niche and see how it feels. If you find you dislike it here, the train leaves once an hour to take you back to Reality. We don’t advise you leave and return often though.’

She looked around at her newest group. They were exactly like the last group and the next group would be exactly like these ones. The InterWebs didn’t promote originality in its overall use, just in its content.

She bent her head to her clipboard and then looked up.

‘Disclaimers: You need to listen and then sign and then you can disappear. Agreed?’

She looked at them while they murmured their assent.

‘The InterWebs will not be held responisble for anything you do here. Your will is still your own and your decisions and the consequences thereof will be held by you in your entirety. While it is advised you stick to your niche, you are under no obligation to do so. Anyone caught stealing content will be evicted back to Reality. Do you agree to this?’

They agreed and one by one, they stepped forward to add their mark to the document.

The tour guide stepped back and watched them leave. Bending her head she checked her watch and boarded the train back to Reality again. Another group would be through in an hour.

They always were.

***

See Part Two Here