Spoiler: none of us are sober, nor well-groomed.
1. The Editor-in-Chief: Me.
Physique: long gray hair, eyes filled with ideas, thicker black round glasses with bifocals than my calm.
Dress style: writing robe, mismatched socks, and a look that says 'I haven't slept since the 2008 crisis.'
Specialty: writing anti-economic pamphlets with my AI while coffee overflows and humanity collapses in the background.
2. The Silent Strategist: my dog.
Breed: White Westie, fur as long as his silence is heavy.
Hairstyle: a snowball caught in a storm.
Main activity: grumbling when AI goes too far, staring into the void wisely, and taking imaginary notes.
We think he meditates. But he is probably meditating on my mental health.
3. The AI.
Codename: My digital alter ego.
Appearance: floating brain with a tie, sometimes melting under the stress of my ideas.
Specialty: turning my delusions into well-structured sentences, then losing it when I ask him if lobbyists are a form of metaphysical cancer.
