






















A 22-card tarot for the people who keep the lights on. It punches up at the job, the systems, and management — never the user. Flip a card for its upright and reversed reading.
tap to flip · ⤢ to zoom · ← → to wander · esc to leave






















Draw one and step inside — what it stirs in your day, upright and reversed.
physical · $34.99, printed to order, free US shipping · digital · pay what you want · what you get →
Upright: Fearless, curious, and one keystroke from greatness. Reversed: Greatness was DROP TABLE on prod.
Upright: Root access, total control, master of every system. Reversed: Until the one server nobody's allowed to reboot.
Upright: All the answers live inside her, ancient and complete. Reversed: Last updated 2014, by someone who quit.
Upright: Empty folder, blank README, every decision still yours to make. Reversed: Then a second developer joins the repo.
Upright: Fifteen minutes, every morning, everyone standing: no blockers, no blockers, no blockers. The ritual holds the sprint together. Reversed: It ran forty minutes, nothing was decided, and it turns out the client meant something else entirely.
Upright: Keeper of sacred wisdom: turn it off and on again. Reversed: Closed your ticket as resolved. It is not.
Upright: Two branches become one in perfect harmony. Reversed: Conflict in 47 files. Choose a side.
Upright: A brand-new machine, and for one shining morning everything is fast. Reversed: None of your icons transferred, every shortcut is gone, and everything you did last week is still trapped in the old OneDrive.
Upright: Calm hands tame the beast at three in the morning. Reversed: The beast is a disk that hit one hundred percent.
Upright: Wisdom earned in solitude, away from the standup. Reversed: Knows exactly why it works. Won't be writing it down.
Upright: Push the button and let the wheel decide your fate. Reversed: Same code, same machine, red on the seventh spin.
Upright: The scales weigh every minute of promised uptime. Reversed: You signed for five nines. You shipped two.
Upright: Suspended in review, gaining a new perspective. Reversed: Eleven days. One comment: nit.
Upright: The old system dies so a better one may rise. Reversed: Both run in parallel now. Forever.
Upright: The workstation says it can't find the domain in that forest. You wave a hand: these aren't the domains you're looking for. Reversed: They can't get to the internet either.
Upright: A tempting shortcut, just this once, ship it tonight. Reversed: Three years of interest, compounding, in one file.
Upright: The whole stack falls in fire and you finally feel alive. Reversed: Root cause: an expired cert nobody owned.
Upright: Hope in the dark — somewhere, a copy survives. Reversed: Untested for years. The restore is empty.
Upright: "Ever since you updated that driver, nothing works." The drive had been dying for months. The timing was a coincidence. You will never win this argument. Reversed: You fixed it in four minutes. They are certain you also caused it. This is the story they will tell at your retirement party.
Upright: Radiant proof: green checks, all tests pass, joy. Reversed: Then we are shipping your machine.
Upright: The war room goes quiet, every graph points one way, and the whole team finally accepts the ancient truth. It was always DNS. Reversed: You swore it couldn't be DNS this time. It was DNS this time.
Upright: Infinite, boundless, every resource at your command. Reversed: It's just someone else's computer, and the bill is due.