Bookmark of Don't call it a Substack.

We constrain our imaginations when we subordinate our creations to names owned by fascist tycoons. Imagine the author of a book telling people to 'read my Amazon'. A great director trying to promote their film by saying 'click on my Max'. That's how much they've pickled your brain when you refer to your own work and your own voice within the context of their walled garden. There is no such thing as 'my Substack', there is only your writing, and a forever fight against the world of pure enshittification.

Yes! It's called a newsletter, people. They've existed for longer than the internet. Substack didn't invent them. (Also, you should probably leave substack.)

And while we're at it—and this is only tangentially related, but I've got a bone so I'm gonna pick it—they're headphones, not airpods; it's a phone, not an iphone; that's a laptop, not a macbook. Stop giving these companies free advertising. They're not your friends.