01 / The Un-Manifesto
Precisely twenty-something years spent in quiet, sarcastic dismissal of fellow technologists, their inability to articulate readable code or coherent architectures. Syntactic illiteracy masquerading as technical depth. Frameworks, buzzwords, and yet the code tells no tale.
Code is just language with strict execution rules. Most technologists fail at both halves: the language part, and the strict part. I know the succession of words that builds the prompt.
02 / What The Window Says
When I'm drafting this profile, the sky has gone missing, replaced by a low dome of uniform grey. Leaves you with nothing but a quiet grief-like yearning to escape to somewhere where humans live. The 20th century, for example. Why is it the past that we always wish to escape to?
And still: starlings gather on the wire in a formation that would shame any load balancer. Rain cascades down the glass in parallel threads, no queue, no backpressure, no standup meeting required to decide the order. Traffic below negotiates right of way without a single ticket. The world outside already runs better architectures than most startups, and it does so without a single pitch deck.
03 / Who This Is For
The tired founder. Already built two or three pointless apps. Now stuck with a real, messy problem made of words: contracts, support tickets, docs nobody reads. Needs someone who will say: do not build it.
The literary-adjacent lead. Works at a publisher, a museum, a newsroom, a legal-tech startup. Needs someone who can talk to editors and engineers in the same sentence, without translation into tickets.
The solo maker stuck on words. Can code. Cannot write a prompt that stops hallucinating, never mind docs anyone can finish. Needs a bit of close reading, not a six-month project.
If none of those sound familiar, this page has done its job. Close the tab.
04 / One Thing For Sale
PROMPT AUTOPSY — €150 / 90 minutes
One prompt, one codebase, one set of docs. Read like prose, marked up like an editor. Where the logic breaks, where the tone lies, where the words promise something the code cannot deliver.
No sprint. No roadmap. No retainer. One session, with red ink, and a list of what to delete before building anything new.
To book: send a letter, not a brief. See below.
05 / How To Start
There is no form here. Forms invite spam.
To start a conversation, send a letter — not a brief — to: hello@notanothertechgenius.com
Subject line must contain the name of the bird that never sings. No CVs. No “quick call?”.
Letters without the bird go unread.