Most people think reading makes you smarter.

Adorable.

The ugly corollary: it can also make you dumber. That one’s harder to swallow. Yet it’s true, and you know it. You feel it every time the feed leaves you furious, depleted, and somehow less intelligent than yesterday.

I’m not here to make you smarter. I wouldn’t promise something I can’t deliver, especially with such slim chances. What I can do is make you think. Slowly, deliberately, with enough friction to remind you that your brain is a muscle not a sponge. Thinking is hard. It’s also good for you.

This newsletter is for people tired of emotional pornography, optimized slop, and shallow takes dressed up as insight. For the internet-raised who still remember books. For anyone who once got lost in a library without knowing what they were looking for, and found something unexpected that stayed with them forever.

Yes, this is proudly digital.

But we’re not here to satisfy the machine. We’re here to expose its limitations, push its edges, and give it some fucking elegance, which it greatly lacks.

What you’ll get: no news, no hot takes, no tidy boxes for the terminally online expert.
Just literary artifacts smuggled into the feed, one chapter at a time.

This is a finite work. A book written in public. It has a beginning, a middle, and—unlike everything else you subscribe to—an end. When the last piece drops, the desk is finished and we’re done. No eternal drip of content just to keep the lights on.

Expect thought, not tutorials.
Reflection, not reaction.
Questions that don’t come with answer keys.
A little punk, a little Latin, zero filler.

Literature for people who grew up on memes.
Philosophy that doesn’t apologize for being hard.
A quiet, stubborn rebellion against the idea that writing online has to be stupid to survive.

If you’re still reading, bienvenido amigo 🐠🧠.