obsession as standard
the perfectionist's paradox
i watch the market flood with ai-generated garbage. books that exist just to exist. content that fills space but empties souls. everyone rushing to produce more, faster, cheaper.
fuck that.
every book gets obsessed over until it deserves to exist. every word weighed, every layout decision fought for, every cover iteration scrutinized until it makes MY heart race. if i wouldn't be thrilled to discover it myself, it doesn't ship.
where crazy meets craft
when the obsession gets too intense, that's when "crazy things" happen: because sometimes quality means perfection, and sometimes it means raw authenticity.
ai agents tested until they feel human as a human. because this technology is supposed to be invisible. podcasts edited until every minute respects your time. experiences crafted until they actually transform, not just entertain.
yes, i could ship faster. yes, ai could do most of this automatically. but that's not why we're here.
the quality promise
in a world where ai makes mediocrity infinite, i choose to produce less but better. to spend weeks where others spend hours (though without ai, those weeks would be months or years).
that's the sweet spot: fast enough to matter, slow enough to obsess, human enough to care.
because quality isn't a standard. it's a rebellion. and every time you engage with something from thesmallmediacompany, you're joining that rebellion.