My name is ‘rax, sometimes raxxy. The reasons why are lost in the mists of time, but I adopted it way back when I first needed a handle to use on the web twenty years ago, and I’m stuck with it now. No, it’s not Klingon or anything like that.
Whilst pretty much everyone uses the web in some form or another these days, I class myself as an early adopter. I was one of those that ventured into internet cafes back in the ‘90s. I remember the pre-Google dark ages, when web directories were the primary way of finding information, and ownership of a MySpace page was regarded as the height of tech prowess. People would present me with problems and ask me to ‘look it up on the internet’ for them. My first home net connection was via one of those free trial AOL dial up discs. Images would take half an hour to load, and then freeze as they got just below her shoulders. Information was shared via IRC. We used anonymous handles and guarded our IRL identities closely. I still do, in fact – the more recent trend towards connecting every aspect of online and offline selves baffles me. For a long time I spent more time with interesting online friends on Urban75, than the people in meatspace that I really had nothing much in common with.
Then the web exploded, everyone and their nan had a Facebook page, some bloke ran across Richmond Park after his dog, and Wikipedia was officially recognised as an independent lifeform when it gained sentience and introduced itself as ‘Hal’.
To be honest, I still harbour a lingering resentment at all these n00bs encroaching on my intermaweb.
But even after all this time, I’ve realised that there are still no blogs written by jaded left-wing recovering alcoholics with Generalised Anxiety Disorder who support Spurs and have a crap sense of humour.
I know. I was amazed as well.
So it’s my duty – nay, my honour – to fill that niche.
Hey, you’re welcome.