Dispatch ❡

Every morning at 9AM (Montreal time), PD prints its own paper: one page covering the prior day, assembled from the real ledger. Coffee first, then yesterday on the record.

How: Read this morning's edition at /dispatch, or from the ❡ pill on the home news rail.

Where to read it

• /dispatch — this morning's edition.
• /dispatch/2026-07-12 — the permanent archive, one URL per publication date. Editions are printed once and never edited: a link cited today reads identically in five years.
• Entries live on the home page's news rail (the ❡ pill) and in the footer.

The sections

• Yesterday's Lead — the day's single biggest story: the headline sale, the mint run, or the honest quiet.
• By the Numbers — mints, sales, volume, listings, offers, and the top sale, in one table.
• From the Salon — one observation about how the room behaved.
• Noted — short items: graduations, sell-outs, the busiest room, new work on the wall.
• Tomorrow's Horizon — what's coming: artist cooldowns ending, projects a few Outputs from selling out.

Saturday and Sunday print the lighter Weekend Edition.

The Digest — this paper, in your inbox

Three times a month — the 1st, 11th and 22nd — The Dispatch prints an email edition covering the stretch since the last one: the window's defining artwork up top, three pulse numbers, then the dense half — every sale that mattered, the new projects that cleared the filter, the floors, and a wall of recent Outputs. Every image is the real art; every Output links home.

Each edition closes with The Stamp — a one-of-one generative mark grown from that edition's date, unique to every issue, reproducible forever.

Sign up on /dispatch (the subscription slip). The run is capped at 1,000 readers — the slip shows the live seat count — and unsubscribe is one tap, instant. Three editions a month, never more.

How it's written

Every number is real — the same ledger that powers the stats and the feeds. The prose is deterministic and seeded per edition: the paper costs nothing to run and never invents a fact. Quiet days print too; the archive keeps the silence as faithfully as the noise.