This Is Not a Test, But We're Still Failing

Bris is an American Bully built like a sofa with opinions. The narrator is a man who has stopped expecting the world to make sense. Together they walk through exhibits that feel uncomfortably familiar: bad ideas dressed as progress, well-meaning disasters, religious stand-offs, economic sinkholes, political theatre, and the quiet mistakes no one admits to making.

The narrator talks. Bris talks back. No one else hears him, and that is fine. Between the dog's blunt honesty and the man's dry observations, they pick apart what it means to live in a time when warning signs are ignored, and "it is what it is" has become less about acceptance and more about running out of energy to care.

It is part essay, part surreal tour, and part conversation between two companions who notice the same cracks in the world, even if they see them differently. They are not trying to fix anything. They are not here to inspire you. They are simply here to walk you through the mess, one room at a time.

For anyone who has looked around and thought, "Surely we could have done better than this," this is your guided tour.