Spit + Glue

Secret bonus post for the detail-oriented:

Privacy, Policy, and the Social Contract We All Pretend to Understand

This isn’t a real post. It’s a test of faith. A test of eyesight. A test of attention span. You, brave scroller of footnotes and clicker of the unclickable, have arrived at what I can only describe as the municipal basement of Spit + Glue — the fluorescent-lit understructure where documents like Terms of Service and Privacy Policy go to quietly hum, unread and unquestioned.

But you? You clicked.

So here’s your reward:

I don’t care what anyone says — privacy policies are the zoning code of the internet. They dictate where you can live, how tall your emotional high-rises can be, and whether your browser can have chickens. No one reads them. Everyone is bound by them. They are legally binding haunted houses.

In theory, this document is here to inform you that I will not steal your information, sell your soul, or send your search history to a hedge fund in San Mateo. In practice, it’s here because the internet demands ritual compliance with unreadable structure. Governance, baby.

Let this serve as an easement across the emotional terrain of modern digital life: I respect your inbox, your boundaries, and your right to unsubscribe at any time, even if it makes me sad and dramatically narrate your departure like an old sea captain watching a ship sail into fog.

There are no cookies. No trackers. No surveillance drones disguised as pigeons. Just words. Sent with care. Occasionally on time.

You may return to your regularly scheduled civic despair.

—Zoe