You’re still here…

Which either means you believe in independent journalism, or you’ve developed a high pain tolerance for my unfiltered brain dumps.

Either way, thank you—seriously.

I’ll admit something: sometimes I write before I think about what it’s going to feel like to read. I hit send when I probably should hit pause. And while that may be great for honesty, it’s not always… emotionally ergonomic for you, the reader. So if I’ve dragged you through too much raw thought lately—too many rants, too much angst, too many metaphors about adtech as a collapsing soufflé—I owe you an apology.

And maybe a drink.

But this newsletter, as messy as it can be, is journalism. It’s not clean, not polished, and definitely not brought to you by a “Platinum Sponsor of the Week.” It’s built from the idea that asking real questions—even when they’re uncomfortable—is still worth doing.

And this week? We’ve got Zack Rosenberg, the founder of Cortex..uh…Qortex, on The ADOTAT Show.

A guy who’s not just riding the AI wave—he’s building something that actually understands video content, frame by frame, micro-moment by micro-moment. No BS, no hype, just real tech with teeth.

Zack doesn’t sugarcoat, and neither do I. That’s why this episode hit differently. We talked about classification, what’s broken in the way we label content, and how taxonomies that haven’t been updated since Friends was on air are still driving your CPMs. And in the middle of all that? Some real talk about why this industry needs more uncomfortable conversations and fewer panel discussions with choreographed smiles.

So here it is. We’re closing out a season and opening a new one. Not because it’s a neat narrative arc, but because this work never really stops.

Thank you for sticking around—for the questions, the clicks, the corrections.

And if I’ve ever written something that made you laugh, wince, nod, or want to throw your phone… it means I’m doing my job.

Stay bold. Stay curious. And know more than you did yesterday

Let me just rip the bandage off with the subtlety
of a raccoon in your pantry at 2 a.m.:

Not always intentionally—but inevitably.

Because if it’s not making someone squirm, it’s probably just a sponsored LinkedIn carousel dressed up as “thought leadership.”

People ask me—mostly in that passive-aggressive “concerned industry veteran” tone—why I bother with ADOTAT.

“Why bother with ADOTAT?”
“Isn’t it just a blog?”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to crank out an AI-generated newsletter and call it a day?”

Sure. It would.
But I didn’t get into this to be easy—or typical.

I do this because someone needs to tell the stories that aren’t always sponsored, smoothed over, or spun.

Because independent doesn’t mean irrelevant—it means unfiltered, unbought, and unafraid to speak plainly.

Easy. You stop treating advertisers like your sugar daddies and start treating readers like the people who matter.

Don’t get me wrong—I have sponsors.

The good ones. The smart ones.

The ones who don’t flinch when I call their best friend a flaming dumpster in the shape of a MarTech stack.

But I don’t go chasing them like a thirsty SDR on a cold email bender.

I’m done doing the whole “let’s circle back after Q2 planning” kabuki.

Let’s just get it out there: I know most of these announcements are PR fluff. They’re written like someone copy-pasted a résumé into a Hallmark card for B2B. Every line screams, “We’re thrilled!” and “Their leadership will be instrumental!” And yes, sometimes it’s painfully obvious nobody knows what the new title actually means.

But I still write about them.

Because underneath all that corporate frosting, there’s usually a real person. Someone who climbed, hustled, survived, or maybe just didn’t burn out—and that’s worth acknowledging. Especially in this industry where the burnout is high, the BS is higher, and the recognition? Rare.

And frankly, it’s also a way for me to express myself.

I post about it on LinkedIn not because I think every VP promotion needs a parade, but because it gives me another way to say: “This person matters. This moment matters. And maybe, just maybe, not everything in adtech has to be cynical.”

Is it journalism?

Not really. Is it a personal brand strategy? Definitely not.

It’s just me, showing up in this weird ecosystem and carving out space for the good ones when I can.

So yeah—it’s a press release.
But it’s also a pause. A breath. A reminder that there are still a few good people worth rooting for.

Even if their headshot is five years old and their new title has a hyphen no one understands.

Look, if you want a shiny origin story about journalistic ethics and changing the world, go watch The Newsroom and pretend it wasn’t created by a man who once thought Facebook was the future of democracy.

The truth is messier. I write this newsletter because something in my Ashkenazi soul demands it—a weird cocktail of righteous indignation, trauma-fueled overachievement, and a burning desire to make sense of a world that keeps lying to itself.

Is it masochism? Probably.

Does it cost me friendships? Yep.

Would I do it differently? Not a chance.

Let’s talk about what this actually is—not the filtered, Instagrammable version of “independent media,” but the gritty, throw-elbows-in-the-comments section kind:

Most of what gets published in this industry is either ghostwritten, gaslit, or gamified for engagement. I’m trying to publish things that feel like someone finally kicked the conference door open and said what everyone else was thinking.

Let’s own something here.

Sometimes in my righteous rage I go full scorched-earth and imply that anyone with a sponsor is ethically compromised.

That was wrong.

Some of you are still doing great work.

Some of you even deserve the money you’re getting—no sarcasm.

I’m even going to start highlighting other podcasts.

Yes, even though most of them sound like two founders stuck in a Zoom echo chamber, feeding each other buzzwords like “synergy” and “impact” until their dogs beg them to stop.

I hate most podcasts.

Including my own.

But once in a while, something surprising slips through the noise—like when someone actually admits they don't have it all figured out.

Here’s the real spiral: what if I’ve spent so long calling out BS that I’ve become part of it?

I ask myself this more than you’d think.

Not in a self-help, TED Talk kind of way—but in the quiet 2 a.m. “did I just destroy someone’s career for a 600-word joke” kind of way. Damn.

Because let’s be real: every villain thinks they’re the hero of their own story.

Every founder who defrauds investors has a TEDx on integrity.

Every platform that enables surveillance calls it “personalization.”

So I am going to try check myself with this:

If the answer’s yes, I keep writing.

If it’s not, maybe then, just then, I shut the hell up and fix it.

So no, I don’t have a neat little bow to tie this with.

I’m not sure if I’m the good guy or just another loud voice trying to feel something real in a sea of corporate content that feels like a Xanax made of recycled press releases.

But I know this: independent media matters.

Not because we’re perfect—but because we’re the only ones not pretending to be.

Have a good Sunday. Or at least an honest one.

Stay Bold, Stay Curious, and Know More Than You Did Yesterday.
—Pesach