Day One: I am swept off course and tempted by the promise of becoming a Webmaster. It started off as just another afternoon's surfing - there I was, treading water somewhere around GeoCities (http:// www.geocities.com), when suddenly my eye caught a tiny beacon bobbing at the top of the main page. "Free Home Page", flashed the message, like a siren luring a sailor with a promise of paradise. . .
I should have resisted, but I was caught in its spell. Just imagine - my very own homepage. My mind raced with possibilities. With such netpower in my hands, I could become the world's greatest Webmaster, and the whole universe would visit my kingdom and gaze in awe at my cool stuff. . Trembling, my finger clicked on the link. My voyage into the unknown had begun.
Day Two: In which I must undergo some simple initiation rituals in order to be accepted into the GeoCities tribe.
It was all too easy to obtain my own free homepage. All I had to do was choose a GeoCities neighbourhood which suited my chosen subject, find an empty address, and move in. With unassailable logic, I decided that since I was Irish, and a rock journalist, I'd have an Irish Rock page.
It would save me having to write a lot of new stuff - I could just link into my features in The Irish Times, and recycle some other pieces. I could also indulge in a bit of shameless self-promotion, as befits a budding Webmaster.
Before setting foot within GeoCities, however, I had to agree to a number of conditions, set there to ensure that the community would not be infiltrated by porn merchants, hate-mongers or breadheads. Understandable. I also had to provide a link back to GeoCities in all my pages. No problem. Finally, I had to fill in a few details (address, date of birth etc), agree to the terms and tick off all the appropriate boxes. Now it was time to submit my homepage for consideration by the great leaders of GeoCities. All I had to do now was kick back, hold my position and wait.
Day Three: I am stranded in a strange and alien environment.
My application to join the tribe has been approved - a message has arrived by email. Elated, I key in the password they have given me - I am to be accepted into the Web's equivalent of a tropical paradise. Visions of grass skirts, coconuts and endless Bounty Bars floating in my head. . .
As I drifted towards my new home, however, I found to my dismay that there was nothing but barren terrain as far as the eye could see. I made landfall on three megabytes of empty Web space, armed with nothing but a rudimentary knowledge of the Net, and absolutely no idea how to build a Web page.
I was marooned, a Robinson Crusoe of cyberspace, no civilisation in sight, and with nothing but my wits and something called the GeoCities Tools File Manager to help me survive. Feverishly, I opened the File Manager page, and with a sinking heart realised that my native language was no use to me any more.
If I was going to get by in these remote parts, I would have to learn to speak something called HTML, or Hyper Text Markup Language. I might as well try and learn the tongue-clicking language of the Tamango tribe. Deflated and dejected, I spent my first night out in the open, an eerie silence around me, and without even an index page to shelter me.
Day Four: In which I receive a stern warning from the GeoCities elders.
I have been alone in this empty Web space now for a couple of weeks, and I still haven't learnt a single line of HTML. I'm in a place called Sunset Strip (which is where all the rock music pages hang out), but because I can't speak the Web lingo, I'm too embarrassed to visit my new neighbours, even though they're only a shortcut away.
Sunset Strip is such a popular neighbourhood that GeoCities has had to expand it into a bunch of "suburbs". My suburb is called Venue, and adjacent suburbs boast such rock 'n' roll names as Backstage, Underground and Studio. If only I could get one lousy page up, then I can claim my piece of territory, and proudly take my place in the GeoCities community.
Alas, the past few weeks of deprivation have taken their toll, and I can't find the strength to write even a short S.O.S., let alone a message in a bottle. One morning, an email arrives from GeoCities, advising me that since I have not yet properly moved in, I may be banished from the neighbourhood and cast adrift. In desperation, I begin rubbing sticks together in the hope of setting off a creative spark.
Day Five: Help is at hand.
I need to meet my very own "Tech Friday". One who would agree to teach me a little of his language, and help me to build a makeshift page using just a few simple HTML tags. I'm in luck! Today I come upon footsteps in the sand (well, silicon actually), and they're not mine. My distress signal has been spotted by a passing Webmaster, who gives me a crash course in HTML over a quick cup of coffee and a Danish.
He also directs me to one of the many HTML tutors on the Web, which, along with GeoCities' own tutor, should be enough for me to master the basic language.
Armed with a handful of key tags, I begin to piece together my opening page. I decide to call it Planet Fabulous, after an album by Something Happens, the second best Irish band ever. A cousin in Florida emails me and wants to know if it has anything to do with Planet Hollywood. I guess I ought to change the name to The Unforgettable Fire just to avoid confusion.
Day Six: Time to start learning the local customs and traditions.
I'm beginning to get my bearings in this strange landscape, and I'm learning to utilise the raw materials at hand. I've already written a couple of pages, and created some links into some of my features in The Irish Times.
I've even managed to get some pictures onto my pages, sourced from other Web sites - I haven't found out to save them in my GeoCities directory yet, so they are direct links to these other sites (but at least it works).
My opening page features a nice picture of Bono in his PopMart outfit, and another page features R2-D2 sporting an Ash logo on his metallic torso. I stand proudly back and admire my handiwork, smiling inwardly at my newly-acquired HTML skills. There's no stopping me now. I'm ready to receive visitors from all around the world, and they will almost certainly gasp at my beautifully-constructed pages.
Next week: will our intrepid cyberspace castaway snare any visitors? Will he learn how to load pictures directly into his directory? Will he find out how to do fancy backgrounds? How can he get a nicer address? Check out Planet Fabulous, Kevin Courtney's Irish Rock Homepage, at www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/ Venue/4264