Zero Surveillance, Artfully Augmented AI, Full Transparency

No Ads or Trackers#

This site has zero tracking, not because I’m on a noble privacy crusade, but simply because I genuinely don’t care about your browsing habits. My apathy is your best privacy shield. The modern web is a surveillance nightmare fueled by scams and contempt, and I’m not tossing another pixel into that dumpster fire for the price of half a lukewarm coffee.

My Tech Stack#

Basic HTML, CSS, and minimal JavaScript. Built with Astro and lazily hosted on Netlify’s free tier. I make exactly zero dollars here, matching my incentive to exploit your data perfectly at zero.

The AI Question#

Yes, I use AI. Anyone with a pulse and deadlines does. It kickstarts my brain when it goes on strike, catches endless typos my caffeine-shaky hands produce, and creates images since artistic talent was apparently not essential for my evolutionary survival. Unlike the flood of “AI-powered” garbage filling your feeds, these tools are just digital interns: useful for basic tasks but requiring constant supervision to prevent confidently fabricated nonsense.

AI output never has the final say here. My BS detector for AI-generated fluff is dialed to eleven. About 80% of AI’s first attempts end up straight in the trash for sounding like a middle school book report written at midnight.

AI might help with about 30% of what you read here, but the weird analogies, questionable humor, and chaotic charm? That’s pure human nonsense, handcrafted and proudly flawed. No algorithm replicates my uniquely questionable judgment.

Why Tell You This?#

I’m not some pretentious artisanal blogger typing manifestos on a hand-cranked typewriter powered by sustainably harvested pinecones, perched in a treehouse made of reclaimed driftwood, wearing denim distressed by authentic woodland creatures, and sipping tea from herbs I foraged blindfolded during a new moon. I’m just a flawed, overly caffeinated human using modern tools to throw my thoughts onto your screen.

Sure, bots did their part, but the final chaotic blend of sarcasm, humor, and questionable choices? That’s entirely my fault.

Bots pitched in; I did the rest. The good, the bad, and the spectacularly questionable? All me.