Every change, on the record.

Why a museum publishes its ledger. This house argues all day that the record is the arbiter — the signed thing, the dated artifact, decides. So the house submits to its own rule: here is the record of the house itself. What changed, when, in what words. If a page said something different last month, this table is where you catch it. An argument made in secret refutes itself; so does an edit.

Honest limits, stated plainly. The workshop — the code repository — is private, the way a writer's desk drawer is. This ledger is regenerated from it and published on every ship, so it is current as of the commit stamped below, not live to the second. The nightly accessibility-audit commits are folded into a count instead of listed, and the folding is announced in the count itself. Nothing is hidden; some things are stacked.

And the coin under it: the civics test you never thought you needed.™ A civics test asks whether you can read a record and judge who governs you by it. This whole museum is that test with the serial numbers left on: every page carries its commit (the receipt), the flagship rooms carry their quizzes (the test — tap the 📖 study guide where you see one), and the score is yours to give, because only humans score. Less website, more test — on purpose.

Regenerated at commit 9b4a53d · 2026-07-20 · 396 commits have touched the public site; the 21 nightly accessibility-audit commits are counted here rather than listed, so the signal stays readable — nothing is hidden, only folded.

Cross-check invited: the announcement board at the dispatch narrates the same history in prose, and the retractions page keeps the misses as loud as the wins. Three copies of one record; catch a disagreement between them and you've scored the house itself.