Before you read the rest of this article, you may want to visit Ted's Caving Page and read the story. If you're claustrophobic (as I am), you may want to take breaks. His story is horror writing 101, but of course, in the age of internet anonymity, he claims it's all true. For me, simply the tale of squeezing into the space the narrator dubbed "Flynn's Tomb" was horrifying enough, but the events that came after are truly the stuff of horror films.
Our protagnist, Ted, and his friend B (names concealed of course) are caving enthusiasts that stumble upon a strange feature in one of the caves; a small hole through which air is blowing. In the caver tradition of "If it blows, it goes", they decide to investigate, going as far as bringing down tools in order to widen the hole. Once Ted is finally able to wedge his body through the space, he makes some incredible and terrifying discoveries on the other side. Now of course, Ted claims that this is all true (and who's to say it isn't?) but will not disclose any names or the location of the cave out of fear for other people's lives. He provides pictures at perfect moments within the story to chill the readers, though the truly incriminating ones "didn't turn out". In any case, Ted manages to spin a tale that works on the basic emotion level of suspense and fear.
I feel this story is part of a greater one being perpetuated on the internet amid all of the 5-second fashions, viral videos, and other superfluous nonsense there is a cyber-space narrative being cultivated here through the reportage and contributions of people. Ted's story of Flynn's Tomb is one example of a story that grew in popularity by pushing some of those primal buttons in the common conscience. In fact, the story is entirely posted through the use of an old angelfire website...when was the last time you saw one of those. A bit like a folk-tale chiseled out on stone, the story of Flynn's Tomb is preserved on an outdated website generator in the age of internet obsolescence.
There have been many writers, bloggers, posters, and other contributors that have articulated the myriad ways in which internet culture has become actual culture. I believe that, similar to the way that human culture develops through community contribution in the real world, internet culture has developed its own cultural history (albeit shorter, binary, and more anonymous). Other examples include America Online (AOL), which for a period dominated the cyber-verse as our premier social network. Anyone old enough to remember the topical chat rooms, prevalent discussion boards, and timeless "You've got mail" will remember social networking in its infancy. Even the dial-up sound of our internet connecting. When I hear that noise is sends shivers of nostalgia and nails-on-a-chalkboard down my spine.
Though it's far too early to begin writing a history of the internet (not that there haven't been a few misguided attempts to create coffee-table books about it), there is definitely a historical identity emerging that those of us that were old enough to experience the advent and progression of internet culture can fondly look back on. In addition, by remembering and preserving pieces of that history like Ted's Caving Page, we can pass on that cyberspace history on to those generations that come after us (and will surely be more adept at using it). Who knows, maybe the story of Flynn's Tomb will be used by parents of the future to scare their cyborg children into not wandering too far from their lunar campsites.