ellipsys
ellipsys
Bulletin · No. 001

A think tank.
A media channel.
A warning label.

Observing the systems that remove the signal.

We live in a moment where everything can be summarized, optimized, and automated. Our mission is not to stop it.

It is to document its inevitable outcome with clarity, data, and the occasional joke. Recursive mediocrity scales.

The Mandate

About →
01 / Observe

We track how meaning degrades through systems.

02 / Analyze

We publish research, data, and cultural autopsies.

03 / Satirize

We use humor because screaming is exhausting.

04 / Remind

Someone has to.

The Pipeline
  1. Articles
    Long-form thinking
  2. Bullets
    Key takeaways
  3. Dashboards
    Data summaries
  4. AI Briefings
    Executive overview
  5. Summaries
    TL;DR
  6. ...
    Inevitable

Every idea, eventually, becomes its summary. Omission scales better than understanding.

Latest Reports

4 on file
  • Work & Orgs

    Meeting Inflation and Other Crimes Against Time

    On the steady debasement of the calendar: how the modern thirty-minute meeting acquired the informational density of the modern hour-long meeting from 2014, and what we should do about it. (Nothing. We should do nothing.)

  • Data & Metrics

    Vanity Compression: A Field Guide

    A taxonomy of metrics that exist primarily to be looked at. With definitions, identification tips, and the precise emotional function each metric performs for the team that ships it.

  • AI Culture

    The Economic Benefits of Recursive Abstraction

    A market analysis of what happens when every layer of an organization is compensated to compress the layer below it. With charts. The charts are real. The compression is also real.

  • Manifesto

    Welcome. This is a record.

    ellipsys media is a publication about the systems that summarize, compress, and remove the signal. The first issue exists because somebody has to keep the receipts.

The Receipts

Delivered weekly.
Cancellable, presumably.

Reports, essays, data points, and the occasional warning. Sent on Sundays, when you can still pretend you’ll read it.

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