Record — the meeting becomes memory.
One press: screen, mic and system audio into a call file. Transcription, speaker names, and a wiki page follow — nobody takes minutes, nothing is lost.
click the sphere · drag to orbit
The mirror problem
You pour your context into its window and it reflects back at you — brilliantly — inside its own glass. The conversation lives in their tab. The memory lives on their servers. The work you did to make the model understand you is an asset on their balance sheet.
There are five mirrors on your screen right now, and none of them can see the others. Half a design in one tab, the transcript in another app, the decision in a chat thread, the code in a fourth window. The most valuable material in your working life — context — is shattered across panes of glass that do not touch.
The labs will not fix this. Vertical silos are the business model. Whoever owns the mirror owns the reflection.
The zona franca
Antimirror is a sphere that floats above every window on your Mac. It is not a tab inside somebody's mirror — it is extraterritorial screen real estate: a free zone above all jurisdictions, where context that is trapped in silos becomes liquid.
Press the sphere and a ring blooms under your cursor. Record the call. Queue the research. Ask a teammate's guardian what they've been working on — without interrupting them. Grab what's on the screen and route it where it's needed. One gesture, from the neutral layer, across every pane of glass at once.
Underneath: a local daemon on 127.0.0.1:7777. Local-first is not a feature flag here; it is the constitution. The app owns no state except its receipts.
And it is an app, not a browser extension — a deliberate choice about trust as much as capability. An app earns screen, microphone and file access honestly, holds them under the law below, and dies with one keystroke. An extension lives inside somebody else's glass and inherits somebody else's rules. The gate to the zone has to stand on its own floor.
The organs
One press: screen, mic and system audio into a call file. Transcription, speaker names, and a wiki page follow — nobody takes minutes, nothing is lost.
Type a question into the sphere; the claw grounds it, drafts provider prompts, and a human gate approves dispatch. Compiled findings land back in your vault.
Every teammate has a guardian bound to their own traces. Ask it what they're working on. It answers with citations and freshness — or honestly refuses.
Drop context to a teammate — signed, content-addressed, receipted. Visible on the ring but sealed: nothing ships until it survives the law below.
Gated until end-to-end encryption shipsThe marketplace
The ring is not a feature list — it is an open contract. Every satellite is a widget: permission-scoped, receipted, signed, and GPL'd. Anyone can build one. Any member can pin one. Your board is your stall.
This is where the explosion happens. A startup ships its product as an organ on everyone's ring instead of another tab in another mirror. An OSS builder wires a local model — whisper on your mic, a llama on your notes, OCR on your screen — straight into the zone: no cloud, no account, no leak. The overlay is the shelf space of the desktop, and under copyleft the shelf belongs to everyone.
Startups meet the local-AI underground here — the people who run their intelligence on their own metal. Same contract, same law, same ring. What one builds, all can pin; what all pin, anyone can fork.
And it compounds. Every call recorded becomes a transcript becomes a wiki page; every podcast indexed, every brief researched joins a corpus that gets smarter the longer you live in the zone. We have a name for the unit of value: cognitio salvata — cognition, saved. Organs are how you make it. The zone is where it compounds.
The law of the zone
Privacy
Most privacy policies are long because they describe collection. Ours is short because there is nothing to collect. The daemon binds to your loopback; the sphere answers to you. Privacy here is not a promise we make — it is a property of where the software runs.
License
The most copyleft license we could reach for, chosen on purpose. Take Antimirror. Read it, fork it, sell it, ship it. But what you build in the space between the mirrors stays open — every derivative, every distribution, forever. Copyleft is the border law of the commons: it doesn't ask nicely.
A silo built on top of the anti-silo layer would be the one failure mode worse than the mirrors themselves. The license makes that failure mode illegal, not just impolite.
free · GPL-3.0-or-later · no account · no cloud
first public build — in preparation