I make food films for about 10 million people a month, I'm building a restaurant group, and I still cook dinner almost every night. What makes that possible is a system I built with Claude: a second brain that captures everything, a crew of skills that learn from every correction, and one memory underneath it all. CoBrain is that system, packaged so you can install it.
Eleven members of my system, each generalized from the crew that runs my real operation. Three are free: complete instruction files, not teasers. Copy one into a chat, or install it as a Claude Skill, and it works today. The other eight ship with the full CoBrain, because they only make sense wired into the memory and the command center.
Files everything you capture, from voice notes to links to half-thoughts, into a second brain that connects, not just collects. One clean page per topic, linked to everything you already know.
Studies and learns your voice, then drafts in it. Every edit you make gets diffed against its draft, the rule gets written down, and the next take comes back closer. A voice double that never stops rehearsing you.
Runs your day like a producer runs a set. One call sheet every morning: one frog, the hard landscape, who owes you what. Nothing you started dies quietly.
Handles brand-deal email like a manager who knows your rates and your whole thread history. Sells premium, never undersells, and always moves the deal. It drafts; only you send.
Reads your numbers and tells the truth: what actually worked, what to make more of, which metrics are weather. Never rounds up. Not for morale, not for a pitch, not ever.
The last gate before anything ships. Checks every piece against your standards, and keeps a growing library of every mistake it has ever caught, so nothing fails the same way twice.
One story across every channel. Decides what ships where and when, keeps the calendars full and coherent, and kills the post that fights the narrative.
Turns viewers into regulars. Owns the welcome: capture, first emails, and the list itself, so the audience you rent on the platforms becomes one you own.
Runs the prep list. Moves every piece from idea to published: batching, formats, repurposing. Service never stalls because prep never stops.
The front of house. Answers comments and DMs in your voice, on canon, and never sends a word without a human hand on it.
Keeps the money honest. Who owes you, what is due, which subscriptions are quietly eating you, and the invoice that needs chasing today.
The eleven are not eleven chatbots. They read and write one brain, they learn from every correction you make, and they answer to the same laws. That wiring is the product.
Every skill ends the same way: a section called "Teach it." When you correct one, it extracts the rule and writes it down, so your first draft next week starts closer to your final. That habit is the whole philosophy, and it's what the full system runs on.
Run the free skills on their own and you have good assistants with amnesia between chats. The full CoBrain wires them together.
A raw-to-wiki second brain every skill reads and writes. The Dealmaker knows what The Archivist filed. Nothing gets explained twice.
Every correction you make becomes a standing rule in the right rulebook. Nothing resets; it only gets more yours.
Trust levels per capability, and a final vote: the maker never certifies its own work. You decide what runs alone and what waits for you.
All of the agent charters, not just five, working one system instead of five separate chats.
It's the difference between owning knives and having a kitchen.
CoBrain ships as two halves built to work together. The Claude side is the crew and the memory. The Notion side is a full creator command center the crew reads and writes — and every board in it is a cleaned, fictionalized twin of one I run daily. Three templates are free. The system they belong to is the product.
The brand-facing content doc that makes you read like an agency of one: monthly deliverables with status markers, concepts, hooks, captions, brand foundation, and the approval workflow. The exact document my partners live in.
See the live exampleOne board, one card per piece, a clean status walk from idea to published, with launch dates that drive a calendar view. The daily driver, simplified to work on day one.
Free at launch · join the waitlistAn idea inbox and a hooks library in one. Zero setup, zero structure to maintain. The template you end up sharing with a friend.
Free at launch · join the waitlistEvery brand conversation as a row: the outreach pipeline from first touch through negotiation to closed, relationship notes discipline, deal dates. Where the money lives. The Dealmaker writes here.
The full machine: per-platform captions as properties, filming and launch dates driving the calendar, one project row per partner month, statuses from concept to client-delivered. The Sous Chef runs on this.
The renewal machine: a monthly client-facing report fed by per-post performance rows, written in the voice that keeps partners. Almost nobody sends reports. The ones who do get renewed.
Monthly numbers, top performers, and the standing figures you quote to partners, each with a source and a date. The Scorekeeper keeps it honest.
A tracker of the creators and accounts you're building real relationships with, staged from first comment to collaboration. Turns "engage more" into a checklist someone can actually run.
Versioned SOPs with evolution logs: how you caption, how you produce, how you work with partners. The constitution that lets you hand work off without handing off your standards. The Editor enforces it.
Previews are mocks for now. Every template is a cleaned, fictionalized twin of a board I run daily — real screenshots land as each twin is finished. And the paid tier isn't nine separate templates: it's one wired workspace where the boards feed each other and the crew reads and writes them.
The first release is small on purpose. The waitlist hears first and locks the founding price: $499, which retires after the first cohort.
No sequence, no spam. One email when doors open.