The Death of GeoCities — and the Website Preserving the Internet’s Lost Soul
Before social media feeds, algorithms, and perfectly aligned templates, the internet was messy. Loud. Personal.
And for millions of people, it lived on GeoCities.
Launched in the mid-1990s, GeoCities gave everyday users the power to build their own corner of the web — no rules, no brand guidelines, no aesthetic filters. Just blinking text, tiled backgrounds, pixel art, MIDI music, visitor counters and unfiltered personality.
When GeoCities shut down in 2009, a huge part of internet history vanished with it.
Or so we thought.
What GeoCities Really Was
GeoCities wasn’t just a website builder — it was an early social internet.
Users created pages about their hobbies, fan theories, pets, diaries, poetry, conspiracies, and obsessions. Sites were organised into “neighbourhoods” like Hollywood, SiliconValley, or Area51, giving people a sense of belonging long before platforms formalised it.
It was chaotic, amateur, and deeply human.
No engagement metrics.
No optimisation.
No influencers.
Just people making things because they wanted to.
When the Internet Decided to Grow Up
As the web evolved, design became cleaner, faster, more corporate.
Templates replaced experimentation. Platforms replaced personal sites. Personality gave way to polish.
When Yahoo! shut GeoCities down, it wasn’t just a technical decision — it marked a cultural shift. The internet moved from self-expression to self-presentation.
The weird bits didn’t fit anymore.
Enter Cameron’s World
That’s where Cameron’s World comes in.
Created by artist and developer Cameron Askin, Cameron’s World is a lovingly chaotic archive of GeoCities-era web design — rebuilt from thousands of salvaged pages. It doesn’t just document old websites; it recreates the experience of using the internet back then.
Scrolling through it feels like stepping into a time capsule:
- Animated GIFs everywhere
- Comic Sans, Times New Roman, WordArt chaos
- Broken layouts
- MIDI music autoplaying without consent
- Passion projects with zero self-awareness
It’s overwhelming. And that’s the point.
Why This Preservation Matters
Cameron’s World isn’t just nostalgia bait — it’s digital preservation.
Early internet culture is often dismissed as “cringe” or “ugly”, but it represents a time when creativity wasn’t monetised, curated or optimised. It shows what happens when people are given tools without being told how to use them “properly”.
In a world where most online spaces now look the same, GeoCities reminds us that the internet used to be:
- Personal instead of performative
- Expressive instead of branded
- Weird instead of safe
Preserving that matters — not just for memory, but for inspiration.
The Comfort of Digital Mess
There’s something strangely comforting about GeoCities-style chaos.
It feels honest. Imperfect. Unfiltered.
In contrast to today’s algorithm-led feeds, these sites weren’t designed to be liked, shared, or sold. They were designed to exist.
Cameron’s World lets us remember a time when the internet wasn’t trying to impress anyone — it was just trying to connect.
What We’ve Lost — and What We Can Learn
The death of GeoCities symbolises more than a platform shutting down. It represents the loss of ownership.
Today, our content lives on platforms we don’t control, subject to moderation changes, monetisation rules, and sudden shutdowns.
GeoCities gave people a home.
Cameron’s World gives us a reminder of what that felt like.
Maybe the future of the internet doesn’t need to look like the past — but it could learn from it. A little more mess. A little more freedom. A little less polish.
Final Thoughts
Cameron’s World isn’t just a tribute — it’s a quiet protest against how sanitised the internet has become. It celebrates creativity without permission, design without rules, and identity without optimisation.
GeoCities may be dead, but its spirit isn’t.
It’s blinking.
It’s loud.
And it’s still beautifully, unapologetically human.