It’s five past midnight, I’m a bottle of cabernet away from sober, and my girlfriend is crying that I spend more time with my laptop than I do with her.
Conditions are perfect. Let’s write some code.
Let’s check our situation:
Not terrible, not great. It’s generic and lacks passion.
There are quite a few things we could do to improve the situation.
Python is often described as “easy to learn, hard to master”—but the truth is, it’s easy to write and even easier to improve once you learn a few advanced idioms. These small tools make your code more expressive, efficient, and closer to how Python was meant to be used.
And under the hood? Much of this runs at C speed, thanks to Python’s standard library doing the heavy lifting for you.
It’s 2025. You’ve built a humble little site. Like a portfolio, or maybe a documentation hub for your custom waifu GPT.
And the question hits you:
Is anyone actually visiting this thing?
That’s it. You’re not trying to build a targeted ad campaign or fingerprint every visitor. You just want a simple counter.
So naturally, you get recommended Google Analytics. Or Plausible. Or Mixpanel. Or Heap. Or PostHog. Or one of the dozens of other options that all promise “simple, privacy-first analytics” but still somehow give off the same vibes as the Church of Scientology.
At Stonehenge, a sacred site that predates written history, a tourist in Nike trainers looked around and said, “It’s just a bunch of rocks.” For a split second, my soul left my body.
Honestly? I kind of love these people. Their expectations may be wildly misaligned, but they voiced the things the rest of us are too polite (or too afraid of ancient curses) to say out loud.
Stonehenge is ancient. Ancient enough that it makes the Roman Empire look like a startup. This megalith, dating back to 3100 BC, immediately evokes a sense of awe and enigma. Before Babylon, and before metal tools, some Neolithic peoples dragged these rocks into formation, and we’re still arguing about it on the internet. We may not know the exact story or purpose, but let’s explore some of the prevailing theories:
This website cost me nothing. And I’m going to keep it that way.
You may think you need serious infrastructure to build a website: a server and a database at the very minimum.
But you’d be wrong. Chances are, the site you envision can most likely be simplified down to a set of static assets. Which means you can throw it on a CDN for free, without AWS burning a hole in your bank account.
The modern internet is a museum of broken mirrors. Content feeds models, which then generate content, and we call it progress because there are tensors involved.
Human creativity is no longer a prerequisite— if anything, it’s a liability. Blog posts? Why would you, say, write a tech blog yourself when an LLM trained to write tech blogs can do it better and exponentially faster?
