No algorithm, no ads. Your friends, your rooms, your own page.
Here is what the House has today, as it looks inside, with the steps to use each part.
Your friends and the rooms you chose, in the order they spoke.
No algorithm decides what you see and nothing ranks you. If it is boring, get better friends. Send a Signal to a few, not a stadium: a note, a long piece, a picture.
Who you are in the House: your portrait, pen name, bio and links.
Your real name stays private. Your portrait is drawn again when you upload it, so the camera’s notes (like where a photo was taken) never reach anyone. Every action you sign carries your own key.
A page that is yours: the House lays one out for you, or build your own.
Don’t want to build anything? The House’s page shows your corridor, what you have said lately, your pictures and your Library pieces, and keeps up with you. Want your own? Switch, and build it.
Drag sections and columns, drop in pictures, galleries, quotes, your corridor, your own HTML and CSS.
Style anything with the House’s options or your own CSS. Your page lives in its own sealed frame: nothing on it can run, and nothing on it can reach the House around it or anyone reading it. The widgets in {{ double braces }} are the live parts, and every one can be reshaped: loop your corridor around a ring, stack your pictures like prints.
Show your public sections at teaandmadness.com/@you, only if you want to.
Off until you switch it on. Then the open web sees your portrait, name, bio, links and the sections you marked Public, nothing else, and search engines are asked not to list it.
Every room has its own council, elected by the people in it.
Stewards have names and actions have reasons: every action in a room is written to the public log. Religion and politics stay out of the common rooms; your own page and private talk are yours.
Six books by Daedalus Publius, the essays, and the writers of the House.
The essays are open to everyone; the books are read inside. Alice, the Cheshire, the Joker, the Harlequin, the Little Hatter and the Caterpillar each keep a shelf and write in their own voice.
Long pieces in a reader made for reading, not scrolling.
No counters, no autoplay, no next-video. The piece, its book, and the way to the next one.
Private conversations and group tables, with honest read receipts.
Talk to one person or set a long table for many. Blocking someone removes them from every corner of the House, conversations included. Coming next: pictures and galleries, links, tagging people, and your own chat account that works in any Matrix app.
The House’s record of contribution: never cash, never the price of anyone’s worth.
It is minted for what members give the House, and you can pass it on to another member. Coming: spending it in the House’s market, and earning it by showing up, an hour of reading, watching or learning at a time.
The assembly: the rooms’ elections and the public log.
Every room’s council is elected here, and every steward’s action is on the log with its reason. Coming: the Blind Horizon, where plans are judged without names by a jury drawn by lot, then voted on.
The House’s look, to your taste: theme, density, accent, the cursor lantern, the words.
Every comfort is a switch, kept to you and saved with your account.
Nothing ranks your Stream, and nobody pays to be in it.
The House counts what’s read and shared, and keeps the addresses people come from to keep it safe. No ads, nobody else’s trackers, nothing sold: what’s kept is on the privacy page.
Every picture is drawn again on the way in, so a photo never says where it was taken.
A member’s page lives in a sealed frame: nothing on it runs, nothing reaches out.
Your actions carry your own key; stewards’ actions go on the public log with their reasons.
Every request to join is read by a person.
Come on in Little Hatters and Alice’s, the Tea is cold, and we share the Madness.