laugh.
like a billionaire.
a laugh is a bout of discrete calls, each with a rise time, a pitch and a decay envelope. yours ramps over 80 milliseconds and fades out apologising. the one you are thinking of attacks in under 25 and never fades.
no paywall, no unlock ritual.
because a hedged laugh
is a hedged person
four hundred years of vocal pedagogy. finally pointed at something stupid.
every figure traces to a measured acoustic feature.
one instruction after every take. never two.
a laugh leaves only when you choose to post it to a private, invitation-only room.
for everyone who has ever hedged
we did the measuring.
you do the laughing.
one take a day, graded on all five axes, about a minute. the aim before it is chosen by whichever axis is weakest, so the practice always points at the thing that is actually wrong.
the aim
one instruction, picked by your weakest axis. it is not a rep of its own.
hold the last one. same volume as the first, or it does not count.
the take
tap, laugh, tap. the waveform draws while you go, so the feedback starts before the score does.
the number
five sub-scores and a composite, in under a second, computed on the phone.
the note
exactly one instruction, aimed at the lowest axis. never two, and never a paragraph.
final call landed at 63%. should be 80. don't apologise on the way out.
the exit
100 is reachable, and reaching it ends the app. your day-one laugh plays against today's, and it tells you there is nothing left to teach you.
the portfolio
other archetypes, each with its own targets and its own 100. the engine is generic; a persona is data.
maintenance
one graded take a week. the score decays visibly if you stop, because real skill does.
field missions
use it on a real person, in a real room. self-reported, unverifiable, worth points anyway — the transfer is the actual goal.
the whole app.
free.
finish onboarding and the app opens. there is no subscription, purchase, share requirement, trial, tier or feature gate.
what if i cannot laugh on command?
nobody can, at first. laughing on purpose runs on a different pathway from laughing at something, and it is the one this app trains. the first take is the whole problem; everything after it is easy.
is the score real, or is it a slot machine?
every number traces to a measured acoustic feature. the composite is a fixed weighting with two overrides, and it is held to spearman ρ > 0.7 against human raters. it is also not generous: a normal first attempt lands in the thirties, and that is the correct answer.
does anyone hear my laugh?
your practice recordings stay on your iphone. if you join the optional room, a reel leaves only when you press post, and only people connected by an invitation can hear it. you can delete a reel or your entire room account in the app. there are no ads, analytics or cross-app tracking.
what happens at 100?
the app ends. your day-one laugh plays against today's, you get a certificate, and it says there is nothing left to teach you. there is a second act on the other side of that and it is entirely optional.
what does it cost?
nothing. the entire app is free, including the room.
is this a wellness app?
no. the physiology of laughing on purpose is real, well documented, and none of our business. we are here about the laugh.
13+. invitation only. user reels are reportable, accounts are blockable, and two independent reports hide a reel pending human review.
if you join the room: an account id, reels and their audio, and the room actions needed for invitations, reporting, blocking and moderation. all are used only to run the feature, never for advertising or tracking.
delete any reel from its menu, block any account immediately, or use settings → delete everything to remove local work, room media, the room account and its sign-in authorization.