A paper, edited from the record
Everyone gets the record; a writer makes a front page of it. A front page is what somebody curated — a lead story, the week, the threads, how they talked, who and where, stories, reels, charts, pull-quotes, filings and what-changed digests of the public record they judged worth your attention, arranged, titled, and written under. Every block but the writer's paragraphs points back into the record itself: a pull-quote's words are read off the meeting's own transcript, a filing is the meeting's own document, and every picture is computed in your browser from the record's own planes. The paragraphs are the writer's own words, labeled as exactly that. Eight templates start one — a meeting, an issue over time, a vote and its history, a person, a place, two towns side by side, the year so far, or a blank broadsheet — each but the blank asking three questions the writer answers.
Reading a paper, or editing your own, needs JavaScript: a paper lives in the link that brought you here, or in your own browser, not on any page a server could print, and the editor runs there too. With JavaScript off, open the record or search it — every story a paper could cite reads there in full.
Examples pressed from the record itself — each an ordinary paper link, built the way any editor's is. Open one to read it; edit your own to make one.
A paper is its editor's selection, not the record's judgement — the full record is one link up. Papers travel as links and files; a short link is served from a content-addressed store that knows nothing about who reads it.