This wasn't really the way I thought this would end.

It's been more than 10 years since Chatbear first launched, back in May 2000. The Y2K bug had just been fought off and Bill Clinton was still president of the USA. It was a simpler time in terms of the web. The whole idea of social networks was still young, and the Facebook train hadn't left the station. Heck, the station hadn't even been built.

It did well. It grew, people liked what it did, and a community was born. Not an easy feat, as I have learned very well since. Ultimately, due to only the fault of myself, that community was ignored. Procrastination took the place of invention, and thoughts and ideas that have long since made other people millions were squandered away. Chatbear floundered.

For the past few years it's been a largely desolate place. A relative safe-zone for spammers, pornographers and marketeers, the committed few still trying to hold a sensible conversation in amongst the shouting hordes who won't rest until everyone on the planet has bought their cheap nike shoes.

Behind the scenes, users who haven't visited the site in 8 years, people who at the time were mere children, are now married with children of their own. They're starting to get worried about what personal information is lurking about them online. Job prospects are ruined by drunken 2am posts they made when in college, potential girlfriends are turned away in horror when they find a conversation they had about sexual positions when they were just 14.

And now, in a further twist, the users who have hung on are being targeted by hackers. Hackers who have realised that Chatbear is built on shaky, ten year old code which I wrote back before I knew better. Who can blame them, it's a joke of a codebase. But I can't let those users suffer, as they're the ones who have stuck with me for so long.

So rather than prolong the suffering, I've cut the cord. I had originally planned to give everyone a couple of months warning, but by that time the situation could have spiralled out of control. There's just too much liability in running a 50,000 user database with code that's tied together with string.

For those who are sad to see their posts disappear, and wish for exports, or the codebase, or anything else that would let them run their own version, I politely decline. Nothing is truly special until it's no longer around. I'd rather Chatbear was remembered for what it once was, not for outstaying it's welcome. I'd rather be Seinfeld than Cheers.

Maybe one day, Chatbear will make a triumphant return. A fresh start, without the legacy of ten years of posts from users who can't even remember signing up. And who like to email me demanding I remove their details, because clearly I've stolen them from somewhere else.

In the meantime, you can follow my blog at Joshua Called Me.

Thanks for joining in. It's been fun.

- Richard
(And Marvin. Who was the bear.)