You agree to the privacy policy below, and the Privacy Policy for Substack, the technology provider.
Last updated: whenever this becomes legally risky
This newsletter collects as little of your personal data as humanly possible. I’m not here to sell your information. I can barely sell my own work.
1. What I Collect
Your email address. That’s it. Maybe your name, if you typed it in. If you include a weird nickname or a nostalgic Hotmail handle, that’s on you.
I don’t know where you live, what you browse, or whether you’ve pledged out of solidarity or morbid curiosity. And frankly, I don’t want to.
2. What I Do With It
I use your email to send you words and pictures once a week. That’s the whole transaction. I don’t track your clicks. I don’t run ads. I don’t care if you read it on your phone, your desktop, or during a slow death spiral in a public service meeting.
If you reply to an email, I will read it. Possibly twice. If it’s brilliant or unhinged, I may quote it anonymously. If it’s violent, weirdly horny, or copyright infringement from the 1998 AFL Record, I may forward it to a friend.
3. What I Don’t Do
I don’t sell, rent, trade, or whisper your details to anyone. There are no hidden trackers, no cookies, no creepy data-brokering deals with a startup called LuminaRage or some shit like that.
This isn’t Google. I don’t want your behavioural patterns. I want to write in peace and take photos of shadows.
4. Unsubscribing
You can leave any time. The “unsubscribe” button is real and effective. If you do go, I won’t chase you. I’ll just sit quietly with my grief and pretend it’s fine.
5. Security and Other Myths
Your data lives somewhere inside Substack’s infrastructure. I trust they have security protocols in place, although I’ve seen what passes for IT policy in government and corporate life, so let’s not pretend anyone is fully safe.
6. Changes to This Policy
If I ever update this policy, I’ll probably mention it in the newsletter, wedged between a Cold Chisel lyric and a scathing aside about legacy media. No dark patterns. No bait-and-switch. Just honesty, exhaustion, and a mild contempt for capitalism.
Thanks for trusting me with your inbox. I promise to treat it better than most government departments treat their public records.