Remember those glorious tiny badges shoved into footers or forum signatures? The ones that proudly declared "Best viewed in Netscape," "No to Tables," or "10% Bald"? The ones made in MS Paint at 12×12 pixels and had more character than most modern UI components? That was peak internet identity.

Before the age of sterile frameworks and cookie-cutter layouts, websites were declarations of personality. You didn’t just have a blog — you were a part of something bigger, someone who probably hand-coded every blessed line “in Notepad.” And you wanted everyone to know it.

Now, everything looks like everything. Sites blend into each other. Logos have been declawed by minimalism. But those pixel badges? They were loud. They were ugly. They were perfect.

Recently I earned my place in the coveted 512KB Club — yep, currently that orange team of brave souls who believe websites should be fast, lean, and liberating and their source code respects your bandwidth and honors your battery life like a silent hero. Getting in was part validation, part triumph: a handshake from the old web saying, “You still get it.” Huge thanks to Kevin for nudging me to tweak my anchor decorations — it made all the difference. 🙌

It’s wild how satisfying it feels to be part of something that rewards restraint. In an age where most sites gobble megabytes like a toddler let loose in a cereal aisle, keeping things tight is almost punk. The badge will sit quietly on my page like those tiny pixel warriors of yore — small, proud, and weirdly emotional. It’s proof that caring about your digital footprint can look good and load fast.

Waiting for approval from The no-JS Club as well, so I hope that soon I will update this post. Enjoy!

UPDATE: Here it is! The moment I rightfully showcase my membership into The no-JS Club. I hereby declare my allegiance to simplicity, speed, and sanity. No more bloated payloads. No more client-side acrobatics. No more pages trying to outsmart the user while outspending their CPU.

P.S. Honestly, I enjoy web clubs — most of them are a source of fresh ideas, nostalgic quirks, or just plain fun. But recently, I stumbled upon a pair that pushed the envelope into something more unhinged than unexpected: No CSS Club and No HTML Club.

These aren't just niche design movements or playful retro experiments. No — these pages go straight for the jugular of the "modern web", branding it as a spiritual catastrophe. One of them claims:

The modern web is the pure incarnation of evil… If Satan is Sauron, then the modern web is Melkor… It is the duty of every man, woman, and child to revolt against it… If you're not working on returning civilization to ooga-booga, you're a bad person.

And the other claims:

To do what the Web was initally intended for (that is, make information accessible via the Internet), all you need is to serve HTML documents.

Now, you might think this is satire. But honestly? It doesn’t even feel like trolling. More like someone spent a few euros/pounds/dollars on a domain and decided their opinions were so "pure" (or "radical", for a lack of a better word) they deserved to be carved into digital stone — HTML optional.

It reeks more of a manifesto than a joke. And whether it’s posturing, performance art, or a genuine philosophical meltdown over cascading stylesheets or hypertext markup language elements, it makes me wonder: "Maybe it’s time to launch the No DOMAINS Club — because isn't slapping alphabetical vanity over your numeric IP address a betrayal of God's true rhythm?" It's thy [A] to your [Q].