A colophon is the note at the back of a book that tells you how it was made — the typefaces, the paper, the press. This is that note, for a website.
The type
Three typefaces, each with one job. Space Grotesk does the display and interface work — every headline, every label, the nameplate at the top. Newsreader is the reading face; everything you read at length, including this sentence, is set in it, because a serif tuned for the screen is still the most comfortable way to move your eye across a long line. Space Mono handles data — dates, numbers, the ledger, the keyboard hints — anything that benefits from each character occupying the same width.
The scale is a major third — each step 1.25× the last — so the sizes relate to one another instead of being picked at random. Spacing is built on a 4-pixel base. The reading column is held to roughly 68 characters, the width at which your eye finds the next line without searching for it.
The grid
Brutalism is honest about structure, so the structure is visible. There are hairline rules between sections, a faint six-column grid behind everything on wider screens, and a frame around the whole page. Nothing is hidden. The lines you can feel are the lines that were always there.
The colors
Two themes, both designed rather than inverted. Paper is warm off-white and near-black ink, the palette of a good book. Ink is its night shift — a true dark mode that avoids pure black and pure white, because pure black on a screen is a glare and pure white text is a strain. A single vermilion accent runs through both. Press t to switch; the site remembers your choice.
The engineering
This is a static site. Every page is plain HTML generated ahead of time from Markdown by a small build script — no framework shipped to your browser, no database, no server doing work while you read. The fonts are self-hosted and preloaded, so there is no flash of the wrong typeface. The one small script adds the command palette, keyboard navigation, the live dateline, and the reading progress bar — and if it fails to load, every word is still here and every link still works.
There are no images, no trackers, no analytics, and no cookies. The only thing kept on your device is a single line in local storage, remembering whether you prefer paper or ink. The whole thing is built to be read, to be fast, and to outlive whatever platform was fashionable the year it was made.