The internet is broken. We take notes.
What was once a clean white box promising the entire internet has quietly become a sponsored obstacle course. Google's search results page is now so stuffed with ads, AI blurbs, and shopping carousels that finding an actual website feels like a scavenger hunt inside a strip mall. The original deal — you search, Google finds — has been quietly renegotiated without your consent.
Jul 21, 2026
Every day, millions of hyperlinks quietly stop working — old URLs that once pointed to real content now route to error pages, domain squatters, or absolute nothing. Link rot is the internet's least glamorous crisis, and it's steadily hollowing out the web's ability to function as a collective memory. Nobody's fixing it, and the reasons why say everything about how we built this thing.
Jul 21, 2026
Search used to be a tool. Now it's a funnel. Google spent a decade quietly replacing the open web with a curated marketplace of sponsored results, AI hallucinations, and Reddit threads — and somehow convinced everyone this was progress.
Jul 20, 2026
Every link you've ever bookmarked is on a countdown timer. The internet doesn't preserve history — it actively buries it, one broken URL at a time. And the people doing the burying often have very good reasons to want the past gone.
Jul 20, 2026
That subscription you can't cancel, the pre-checked box that signed you up for a newsletter, the fake countdown timer screaming that your deal expires in 10 minutes — none of this is accidental. Dark patterns are deliberate, psychologically engineered design choices, and the companies using them have decided you're not a customer. You're a target.
Jul 20, 2026
Every dead link is a small act of historical vandalism. Link rot — the quiet, relentless process by which the web forgets itself — is erasing the digital record faster than anyone is bothering to fix it. Here's why the internet has the long-term memory of a goldfish, and why nobody in power seems to care.
Jul 20, 2026
GDPR was supposed to hand internet users control over their own data. What it actually produced was a global epidemic of deliberately baffling pop-ups, deceptively colored buttons, and consent flows so labyrinthine that users surrender their privacy just to make the noise stop. Turns out, giving companies a legal obligation to ask permission is very different from giving users the power to say no.
Jul 20, 2026
Password managers were supposed to be the cure for credential chaos — one vault to rule them all. Instead, they've quietly become the most attractive targets on the internet, stuffed with every secret you own and, apparently, secured with the digital equivalent of a screen door. We need to talk about this.
Jul 20, 2026