Lineage

I have been recording interviews with my father. The hard part was never the transcription — it is that a life does not arrive in chapter order.

The deeper problem is trust. An oral history is a pile of assertions from one person's memory, and a tool that quietly fills the gaps produces something that reads beautifully and cannot be relied on.

A pipeline that builds a structure before it writes a word, and makes that structure inspectable. It transcribes the sessions, builds a family timeline, splits the tape into self-contained stories, shapes each in his voice, assembles chapters, places photographs and records, and compiles to a print-ready PDF.

Every proper noun said out loud becomes an article. Every claimed relationship carries the sentence it came from, with a source and a timestamp. Anything asserted without a quotable passage is dropped rather than smoothed over.

That discipline is the whole design, and the number that proves it is the one on the rebuild banner: eleven relationships kept and six discarded for lack of evidence. A system that kept all seventeen would look better and be worth less.

The stubs are the other half. Over a thousand of them, and they are not a backlog — they are the list of questions for the next session.

1,334 articles across 923 people, 196 places, 159 events and the rest.

The output is The Book of Daniel.