Web is Dead.

A play in two acts.

Act I.

Nuclear physics: We invented the Web.
And now it is dead.
Nuclear physics got carefully swept away into different committees to be out of the way of the roaring Web Commerce steered by millionaires.
Millionaire I: I created the Web Browser. I made it able to show pictures. I ignored pathetic whining of those ridiculous Nuclear Physics. Now I'm rich and have nothing to achieve. I'm just getting fatter and fatter. Now I can spread my luminous visions and people will listen and follow as flock of stupid lemmings, because I'm rich and they poor and gullible.
But I will never tell them my real vision: Web is Dead.
Millionaire I relaxes his bloated body in an electric wheel chair, throws several Plug-Ins to the Web Commerce and rolls away escorted by the cohort of eagerly listening slaves
Millionaire II: I invested my money into the Web. It made me a lot of money in return. I cannot distinguish network connector from cigarette lighter, but I can smell the money from hundred miles away. And now I tell you: there is no money in the Web anymore. Web is dead.
Millionaire II jumps out from the Web Commerce charriot, and invests money in now legal marijuana market.
Web Commerce: I fed Web with Money. I believed to the visionairies who told me Web is a gold mine. I spend millions on dull Web Sites. And then I discovered that Web is a bunch of 14-year olds looking for pornography.
Now I broke. And Web is Dead.
Web Commerce gets covered in smoke, feverishly burning money in its Web Engines in an attempt to move away from a dead spot. When smoke disappears, the place is empty.

Nuclear physics:	We invented the Web. And now it is dead. Nuclear physics got carefully swept away into different committees to be out of the way of the roaring Web Commerce steered by millionaires.
Millionaire I:	I created the Web Browser. I made it able to show pictures. I ignored pathetic whining of those ridiculous Nuclear Physics. Now I'm rich and have nothing to achieve. I'm just getting fatter and fatter. Now I can spread my luminous visions and people will listen and follow as flock of stupid lemmings, because I'm rich and they poor and gullible. But I will never tell them my real vision: Web is Dead. Millionaire I relaxes his bloated body in an electric wheel chair, throws several Plug-Ins to the Web Commerce and rolls away escorted by the cohort of eagerly listening slaves
Millionaire II:	I invested my money into the Web. It made me a lot of money in return. I cannot distinguish network connector from cigarette lighter, but I can smell the money from hundred miles away. And now I tell you: there is no money in the Web anymore. Web is dead. Millionaire II jumps out from the Web Commerce charriot, and invests money in now legal marijuana market.
Web Commerce:	I fed Web with Money. I believed to the visionairies who told me Web is a gold mine. I spend millions on dull Web Sites. And then I discovered that Web is a bunch of 14-year olds looking for pornography. Now I broke. And Web is Dead. Web Commerce gets covered in smoke, feverishly burning money in its Web Engines in an attempt to move away from a dead spot. When smoke disappears, the place is empty.

Act II

Enters the procession of terminally ill or dead Web Sites

Site I: I'm a NCSA What's New Web Site. I allowed anyone to spread the knowledge about new Web sites. The last new sites I announced were on 30-June-1996. There's nothing new on the Web since then, and I'm only dead archive now. Web is dead.
Site II: I'm a Best of the Web '94 Web Site. By 1995 I was dead. I was resurrected in 1996, but nobody cares about me anymore. I was replaced by the Coolest of the Web. Now Web is just a huge thermometer stuck on its lowest mark. Web is dead.
Site III: I'm a Worst of The Web site. I used to show Web Sites that were pretty bad. It means there were also good sites. Now there are not. My mission makes no sense anymore and I'm dead. Web is dead, too.
Site IV: I'm what's left of Bobaworld. Once I was huge personal site with thousands links and two daily Cool site pages! Time passed, links got old and rusty. Pages they pointed to went away. There were no force in the entire Universe to be able to fix all these broken links so I died of natural causes. I'm gone. Web is dead.
Site V: I'm Dan's Gallery of Grotesque. I used to be one of the most repulsive sites of the Net. Not anymore. Now I'm closed. Only dull sites can survive. Web is ruled by hypocrites. Web is dead.
Site Å: I'm an Absurd Site. I'm Ålpha and Ömega, the beginning and the end. I'm the first and I'm the last.
Everybody: Web is dead.
Web is dead.
Long live the Web.
Curtain.

Site I:	I'm a NCSA What's New Web Site. I allowed anyone to spread the knowledge about new Web sites. The last new sites I announced were on 30-June-1996. There's nothing new on the Web since then, and I'm only dead archive now. Web is dead.
Site II:	I'm a Best of the Web '94 Web Site. By 1995 I was dead. I was resurrected in 1996, but nobody cares about me anymore. I was replaced by the Coolest of the Web. Now Web is just a huge thermometer stuck on its lowest mark. Web is dead.
Site III:	I'm a Worst of The Web site. I used to show Web Sites that were pretty bad. It means there were also good sites. Now there are not. My mission makes no sense anymore and I'm dead. Web is dead, too.
Site IV:	I'm what's left of Bobaworld. Once I was huge personal site with thousands links and two daily Cool site pages! Time passed, links got old and rusty. Pages they pointed to went away. There were no force in the entire Universe to be able to fix all these broken links so I died of natural causes. I'm gone. Web is dead.
Site V:	I'm Dan's Gallery of Grotesque. I used to be one of the most repulsive sites of the Net. Not anymore. Now I'm closed. Only dull sites can survive. Web is ruled by hypocrites. Web is dead.
Site Å:	I'm an Absurd Site. I'm Ålpha and Ömega, the beginning and the end. I'm the first and I'm the last.
Everybody:	Web is dead. Web is dead. Long live the Web. Curtain.