You weren't meant to read all this.

Somewhere in the last few years, work became reading.

Not thinking — reading. The thread you have to catch up on. The doc you have to review. The forty tabs you're "getting to." The newsletter you saved, the ticket queue you owe, the spec your AI wrote while you slept — faster than you could ever read it, and it doesn't sleep.

We answered the flood the only way a keyboard lets us: eyes locked to a screen at 238 words a minute, fingers answering at 52. That's the pipe. That's the whole pipe. Every year the flood doubles and the pipe stays the same size.

Here's the thing your computer forgot: you come pre-installed with a faster interface.

Speech input reaches 153 words a minute. You listen while walking, cooking, debugging, folding laundry — comprehension untouched, eyes free. Speech is the oldest interface humans have, tuned far longer than any keyboard. The keyboard is a workaround that hung around long enough to feel like a law of nature.

Speed references: Brysbaert, 2019 · Ruan et al., 2018.

It isn't one.

For most of computing's history, the machine couldn't hold up its end. Voices sounded like a fax machine apologizing. Dictation mangled every third word. So we let it go, and we read, and we typed, and we called the neck pain "work."

That excuse just expired. The voices are good now — actually good, read-you-a-novel good. Transcription stopped mangling. What hasn't caught up is the shape of our tools: voice input that only talks in one direction. Reader tools that make you carry your work to them like an offering. Nobody built the layer.

So we did.

Peanut is the narration layer for your computer. Select anything, anywhere, and hear it — the thread, the spec, the PDF, the screenshot. Press the other key and talk — and clean, finished text lands where your cursor is. Both directions. Every app. Two keystrokes.

We believe the answer to too much text is not another screen, another summary, another app demanding your eyes. It's narration — work that moves at the speed you think, not the speed you scroll.

Your eyes are for the parts that deserve them.
Peanut handles the rest, out loud.