Hi. I'm Kuber Mehta. I don't own a newspaper, a billboard, or a bus stop. I own the banner at the top of my X profile and the one at the top of my LinkedIn profile — and they are now the same picture: one canvas, 2000×500, which is exactly 1,000,000 pixels. I'm selling it from 10¢ a pixel.
There is no clever part of this canvas and no dud part. Every pixel appears on both banners — same artwork, same audience, same price wherever you put it. And the price doubles as the wall sells: six steps, 10¢ to $3.20, driven by how much is gone rather than by any clock. The header tells you what a pixel costs right now and how many are left before it doubles.
The pixels are going to run out. The price only moves one way.
One canvas — 2000×500, exactly 1,000,000 pixels — sold from 10¢ each, with a 10×10 minimum. That canvas is the banner at the top of both my X and my LinkedIn profiles. Drag a rectangle, upload a logo, pay, and it becomes part of the real thing as well as a clickable patch on the homepage.
It is an unapologetic tribute to Alex Tew's Million Dollar Homepage from 2005, with one difference: the canvas is not a web page people have to be talked into visiting. It's the header of two profiles people visit anyway.
X and LinkedIn want slightly different shapes. Older versions of this site solved that by cutting two overlapping crops out of a bigger image, which was clever and confusing — some pixels were on one profile, some on both, some on neither.
All gone. There is one canvas, 2000×500, and the whole of it goes on both banners. No crops, no zones, no dead corners. Each platform just gets the same picture, scaled:
One picture, two uploads. LinkedIn's shape is a perfect 4:1, so the canvas drops straight into it. X's is squarer, so the artwork sits in the middle at 1500×375 and I fill the strips above and below with my own branding — never with your pixels.
There aren't any. That's the design.
Every pixel is the same price and shows up in the same two places. The middle isn't worth more than the edge. What changes what you pay is when you buy, not where — the price doubles as it sells, everywhere on the wall at once.
Yes, a bit, and I'd rather tell you now. The canvas is 2000 pixels wide; LinkedIn's banner is 1584 and X's artwork strip is 1500. So your pixels render at about 79% and 75% — call it 21–25% smaller than they look here.
No trick avoids this: two platforms with two fixed sizes cannot both be 1:1 with one master image. It's a plain high-quality downscale, applied to everyone identically. What it means for you:
It doubles as the wall sells — six steps, driven by activity rather than the calendar. If nobody buys for a month the price doesn't move; if the wall gets hammered this afternoon, it moves this afternoon. The first two steps are deliberately small, so the cheap prices go fast:
| Step | Pixels sold | Price per pixel | 100 pixels | That step is worth |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 0 – 50,000 | $0.10 | $10 | $5,000 |
| 2 | 50,000 – 100,000 | $0.20 | $20 | $10,000 |
| 3 | 100,000 – 322,500 | $0.40 | $40 | $89,000 |
| 4 | 322,500 – 545,000 | $0.80 | $80 | $178,000 |
| 5 | 545,000 – 767,500 | $1.60 | $160 | $356,000 |
| 6 | 767,500 – 990,000 | $3.20 | $320 | $712,000 |
| 990,000 sold normally | $1,350,000 |
Note the shape of it: the opening price only covers 50,000 pixels — 5% of the wall — and then it's gone forever. Six prices, ending at $3.20, thirty-two times the opening. There is no countdown clock anywhere on this site, because there's nothing to count down to.
Pending orders count the moment they're placed, not when they're paid, so nobody holds the price down by sitting on an unpaid order. The last 10,000 pixels never go through this schedule at all — see THE FINAL 10,000.
You pay marginally, like tax brackets: pixels below the boundary at the old price, pixels above it at the new one. You're never retro-charged, and a big order never lands entirely in the higher step because of its last row.
Say 45,000 pixels are gone and you buy 10,000:
The buy box shows the breakdown before you pay anything, and the server recomputes it when the order actually lands — so if someone buys 5,000 pixels while you're picking a logo, you see the corrected number first. Nothing surprises you later.
Because without one, a single buyer with $15,000 could take the entire cheap start — the first 100,000 pixels, both of the small steps — in two orders, before anybody else woke up. That would be a boring website. Maximum 50,000 pixels per order, which is $5,000 at the opening price.
It's a cap per order, not per person. Nothing stops you coming back for another 50,000 — but every order you place moves the price for your next one, so you climb your own escalator. Getting in early is cheap. Hoarding early is not.
The minimum is 100 pixels — $10 at the opening price. That's deliberate too: this should be affordable to somebody with a side project, not just to a company with a media budget.
In the price schedule. Alex Tew sold a million pixels at a dollar each, so his million was the pixel count and the payday at once. Mine start at a tenth of that, so the million has to come out of the doubling instead.
Add up the table: $5,000 + $10,000 + $89,000 + $178,000 + $356,000 + $712,000 = $1,350,000 if all 990,000 standard-sale pixels go — before THE FINAL 10,000 is auctioned. The million is arithmetic, not vibes.
Which makes the interesting question not "will it reach a million dollars" but "which step were you in". The first 50,000 pixels sell for a thirty-second of what the last ones cost. That gap is the whole design, and it's the only reward this site can honestly offer for showing up early.
The endgame — and it is not a place on the canvas, it's a moment. Nothing here is fenced off or held back for a rich person. Every pixel you can see sells normally, at the same rate, wherever it is.
What happens is this: the standard checkout stops when the last 10,000 pixels — 1% — are left. Whatever is still unsold then, wherever it's scattered, is THE FINAL 10,000, and it goes to auction instead of the sticker price. If an order would dip below that line, the site tells you and asks you to take fewer.
I'm copying the original. The Million Dollar Homepage didn't reserve anything either; it sold down to 999,000 and then put the last 1,000 up on eBay. They went for $38,100 — about 38× the sticker price — because by then the page was famous and that was the last of it that would ever exist. Scarcity did the work; the shape of the page had nothing to do with it.
Me. I build things on the internet, and the results live at kuber.studio. X is where I actually spend my time — @kuberwastaken — and the respectable half of my life is at linkedin.com/in/kubermehta. If you'd rather talk to a human: kuberwastaken@gmail.com.
You're not renting an impression. You're buying a specific rectangle of a specific image, and once it's yours nobody else can ever have it.
Whatever you've got — PNG, JPEG or WebP. Upload it in the buy box and the adjuster appears: drag to position, zoom to scale, or switch to Crop and pull the corners. The site bakes the final artwork at exactly the size of the rectangle you bought, and the preview isn't an approximation — it's literally the crop that ships.
Two bits of advice worth more than any spec sheet: send something bigger than your rectangle (the zoom only goes up — scaling below 100% would mean inventing pixels), and remember it shrinks another 21–25% on the real banners. One bold mark beats four words of tiny text, every time.
This goes on the top of my own profiles, in front of recruiters, clients, friends and my mother. So:
You tick a box confirming this before you buy, and I look at every order myself. If I reject your artwork you get a full refund and the pixels go back on sale — and since a released order stops counting toward the price, rejecting you costs everyone else nothing either. If a link goes bad after it's live, I take it down and keep the money, which is the only leverage I have and I intend to keep it.
Within 48 hours of payment. I re-run the exporter, which composites every paid pixel into a fresh master canvas and scales the two banner files out of it, then I upload them to both profiles by hand. Your pixels appear on this site as soon as the payment confirms.
You can always check my work: the current files are downloadable from The Banners, and they're the same files that are on the profiles.
First order in wins — pixels lock the instant an order is accepted, not when payment clears. If someone beats you to it, the site says so straight away, refreshes the canvas, and you keep your money and pick another rectangle. The canvas re-checks itself every 60 seconds, so what you're looking at is close to live.
For as long as I have those profiles, which I intend to be a very long time. No expiry, no renewal, no monthly rent, and no plan to ever resell your rectangle. You buy it once.
Email me. A new link or a swapped logo in the same rectangle is free, on the next export, as long as it passes the same rules. What you can't do is move to a different or bigger rectangle — that's a new purchase, at whatever the price has reached by then.
Yes. Real profiles, real banners, real payments, real pixels. Go and look at @kuberwastaken and /in/kubermehta. Alex Tew got a million dollars for a page nobody had a reason to visit. I'm doing it on two pages people already do.
Go and buy some pixels — they're cheaper right now than they will ever be again.