Send me a book

Type the book and why it matters to you. The form asks for those two things and stops there — no name, no address, no account.

You get back a short key. Keep it. That key is the whole of what ties you to what you sent.

It lands on a machine I own, and I read it. The path from your browser to that machine is the whole of it.

The reply half is being built. The key you get today is what will open your thread when it arrives, which is why it is issued now rather than later.

Type the book and why it matters to you. The form asks for those two things and stops there. It leaves out your name, your address and any account.

You get back a short key. Keep it. That key is the whole of what connects you to what you sent.

It arrives on a computer I own, and I read it. Your browser talks to that machine alone.

The reply half is still being built. The key you get today is what will open your thread when it arrives, which is why you get one now instead of later.

The form asks only for the book and your reasons, leaves your browser exactly as it found it, and keeps only the key you choose to carry away.

What I hold is your text, a hash of your key, and the time. The key itself lives only with you, so I can recognise a returning reader while who they are stays entirely theirs.

The honest limit, stated plainly: your request reaches my server over the internet, and the network in between can see that a request happened and where it came from. Anonymity here means I keep only what you typed and a hash, rather than that you are unlinkable to a determined observer with a view of the network.

Threads are kept for 90 days and then deleted, key and all.

The form asks only for the book and your reasons, leaves your browser exactly as it found it, and keeps only the key you choose to carry away.

What I hold is your text, a scrambled version of your key, and the time. The key itself exists only with you — so I can tell a returning reader apart from a new one while who you are stays entirely yours.

The honest limit, said plainly: your message travels across the internet to reach my computer, and the networks in between can see that a message happened and roughly where it came from. Anonymous here means I keep only what you typed. Someone watching the whole network is a different question, and that one stays open.

Threads are kept for 90 days and then deleted, key and all.

I build with zero-knowledge proofs elsewhere, and the honest answer is that one would add only ceremony to this box.

A zero-knowledge membership proof carries which group you belong to while leaving which member you are out of it. It earns its keep exactly where a group has an edge. This box is open to anyone, so the group is everyone, and a proof of membership in everyone carries no information at all.

What the box borrows is the shape rather than the mathematics: a secret you hold, which lets me recognise a returning reader while what I learn about them stays at zero. That is what the key is.

If this ever becomes a room with a door on it, the proof starts earning its keep, and that is the point at which I would add one. The key is issued now precisely so that door has a hinge to hang on.

I build with zero-knowledge proofs elsewhere, and the honest answer is that one would add only ceremony to this box.

A zero-knowledge proof lets you show you belong to a group while keeping which member you are to yourself. It earns its keep exactly where a group has an edge to it. This box is open to anyone, so the group is everyone, and proving you are one of everyone carries zero information.

What the box borrows is the shape rather than the mathematics: a secret only you hold, which lets me recognise you coming back while what I learn about you stays at zero. That is what the key is.

If this ever becomes a room with a door on it, a proof starts earning its keep, and that is when I would add one. The key exists now precisely so that door has a hinge to hang on.