the pitch wall

There's a channel in everything.

The house network airs the news, etymology, and bad puns. Yours could air the bar exam, your favorite dead poets, or your team's runbook. Same dial. Same 20 seconds.

If it fits on a card, it'll air in the gap. That's the whole rule.

“Your own canon.”

The stuff you'd put on the wall — on a channel instead.

CH 30THE WHITE ALBUM

you →“Make a channel of Joan Didion lines — one a slot, no commentary, let them land.”

One line at a time, room to breathe. A commonplace book that airs itself.

CH 31THE LIBRARY

you →“Turn five Borges premises into running threads — one panel per wait, eerie, no resolution.”

A story that unfolds one panel per wait. By Thursday you're three waits from the ending.

CH 32HOUSE RULES

you →“My family's sayings and the stories behind them — I'll paste the list, you write the cards.”

The things your grandmother said, on a channel. Nobody else gets this one.

“Just for the bit.”

Not everything has to teach you something. Sometimes the gap just delivers.

CH 36THE GREY HAVENS

you →“Deep-cut Lord of the Rings lore — Silmarillion-tier, no hobbit 101, treat me like I've read it.”

For the part of you that finished the appendices. Aired at you, three weeks running.

CH 37TECH DEBT TV

you →“A channel that roasts my own tech stack — affectionate, specific, the kind of joke only we'd get.”

In-jokes for an audience of you and four coworkers. The best kind of channel.

CH 38DEPARTURES

you →“We're going to Tokyo in a month — phrases, customs, and one weird-but-true fact a slot.”

Pre-load the trip in the gaps before it. By the time you land, you've got the phrases.

“Cram without studying.”

The exam's still three weeks out. The gaps are happening now.

CH 21THE ARCHITECT

you →“Drill the AWS Solutions Architect exam — 12 cards, deadpan, no fluff.”

Questions that hold a beat, then turn over. The thing you keep forgetting, every wait, until you don't.

CH 22NIGHT SHIFT

you →“Quiz me on the NCLEX — meds, dosages, red-flag symptoms. Keep it dry.”

Flashcards that don't feel like flashcards, because they show up while you're waiting on something else.

“Drill the thing.”

A little, often, in time you weren't using anyway.

CH 12LISBON LATE

you →“Drip conversational Portuguese — short phrases, meaning inline, build on the last one.”

Three seconds of a language at a time. Same idea as LANGUES — except it's the one you actually need.

CH 33THE FIFTH

you →“Quiz me on music theory — intervals, modes, chord function. Deadpan, escalate gently.”

The stuff you half-know, asked back to you until it's the stuff you know.

“The world you work in.”

Onboard a new hire, or just sound like you've been there longer.

CH 34THE GLOSSARY

you →“Explain my industry's jargon like I'm new — insurance terms, one per card, dry and exact.”

The acronyms everyone uses and nobody defines, defined. Sound like you belong in the standup.

CH 35CHANNEL ONE

you →“Make our team onboarding into a channel — where things live, who owns what, the unwritten rules. I'll paste the wiki.”

The onboarding doc nobody reads, aired in the gaps a new hire is already sitting through.

Pick a pitch, or bring your own.

Hand the prompt to your LLM with our skill. It writes the channel; you run casting; the keepers air in your next wait.

roll your own →Add to Chrome — free

Some of these belong on more than your own dial. get carried →