Arch in 60 Seconds Is Real. The First Hour Is the Actual Project.
Arch Linux has a reputation: the distro you install over a weekend, wiki open on a second laptop, partitioning disks by hand and questioning your choices. Omarchy's pitch is that you get Arch — real Arch, bragging rights included — from a sixty-second installer.
I saw the pitch in a NetworkChuck video
Had a spare ThinkPad, and gave it an evening.
The sixty seconds is real. This post is about the hour after, because that's the part no one films.
What it is
Omarchy is Arch underneath with the decisions already made on top: Hyprland as the window manager, a theme system, a curated set of tools, sane defaults everywhere. It's DHH's project — the Ruby on Rails one — and it's having a moment. Version 4 shipped in August, there's a foundation behind it now, and every tech channel on YouTube has covered it this month.
Two of those decisions matter more than the rest, and they'll decide whether you get on with it.
It's keyboard-first, all the way down. There is no taskbar, no start menu, no three-dots menu in the corner of a window. Windows tile themselves; you close them, launch apps, and move between workspaces with the Super key. For the first hour it feels like being locked out of your own computer. Then it doesn't.
AI tooling is built in as a first-class citizen. The installer asks which coding agent you want — in the same breath as your wifi network and your timezone. Two years ago that would have been a bizarre question for an operating system to ask. If the whole idea puts you off, you'd be fighting the design; pick something else and be happy.
Neither of these is a flaw. They're the deal on the table.
The hour after the install
Everything below stopped me at the time. None of it is hard in hindsight. That gap — trivial in hindsight, baffling in the moment — is exactly what the two-minute install videos edit out.
Usernames must be lowercase. The installer rejected "Karl" with an error saying usernames must be "alphanumeric without spaces" — which "Karl" is. The real rule, inherited from Linux itself, is no capital letters. The error message just doesn't say so.
A closed window is gone. No undo, no reopen-last — the app's process ends and you relaunch it (which usually picks up where you left off). I closed the agent setup mid-flow and thought I'd broken the install. The twist: a window on another workspace looks exactly like a closed one, so before mourning anything, flick through Super + 1/2/3 first.
The package manager waits for you. Twice I ran an install, watched text scroll past, and assumed it had finished. It was sitting on a [Y/n] prompt the whole time. Nothing installs until you answer. Obvious once you know; invisible until you do.
There was a file manager all along. I spent a while wondering how to browse folders without the terminal, and installed one — before discovering Omarchy ships Files out of the box, sitting behind Super + Shift + F the entire time. Nothing tells you. The lesson, which took me an embarrassing amount of the evening to learn: hold Super and read the cheatsheet before assuming something's missing.
Resizing windows isn't dragging edges. It's Super plus right-click-drag, or keyboard nudges — and half the time the correct answer is to stop resizing and give the app its own workspace. The first time a settings dialog opened taller than my screen, with the OK button somewhere below the bezel, I sat there genuinely stuck. (Super + V floats the window. Write that one down.)
The pattern across all of these: Omarchy curates the desktop, but underneath it's still Arch, and Arch assumes you'll ask for what you want. Coming from Windows — or from Mint, or from anything that anticipates you — the silence is the culture shock, not the difficulty.
The five shortcuts that end the panic
| Keys | What happens |
|---|---|
Super + Return |
Terminal. Your way back to everything. |
Super + Space |
Launcher — type an app's name, hit Enter |
Super + W |
Close the focused window |
Super + F |
Fullscreen the focused window |
Super + 1 / 2 / 3 |
Switch workspaces |
Hold Super on its own and a cheatsheet appears with the full list. Lean on that for the first week instead of memorising anything.
And in the terminal, paste is Ctrl + Shift + V. Plain Ctrl + V does nothing, for thirty-year-old reasons. I do IT support for a living and this one still got me.
The part that makes it worth it
A keyboard-driven desktop built from plain-text config sounds like a chore. It's actually the payoff.
The theme switcher covers the surface — a keybinding cycles the bundled colour schemes, dark and light included, no files touched. But everything underneath is a text file in ~/.config/hypr/: gaps between windows, animations, blur, and every keybinding on the system. Adding your own is one line —
bind = SUPER, B, exec, firefox
— reload, and Super + B opens your browser. That's the entire process. No settings panel, no hunting through menus. Just a file that says what your desktop does.
This is why people get obsessive about ricing. The config is the desktop, and text files can be version-controlled — which means your exact setup, every keybinding and colour, can follow you to any machine in minutes. Try that with a Windows install.
Mine's called hosaka, after the deck in Neuromancer. If you're going to run a matte-black ThinkPad with a tiling window manager, commit to the bit.
Gaming, briefly
Steam runs fine. Proton — Valve's translation layer that lets Windows games run on Linux without the developer lifting a finger — has quietly gotten very good, and most of a Steam library now just works after ticking one box in settings. Check any specific game at protondb.com before installing it.
The honest ceiling is the hardware: integrated graphics on an ageing ThinkPad was never going to run anything heavy, and Linux isn't the reason. But the comparison that struck me isn't with a gaming PC — it's with the Mac. The thing that's always bothered me about macOS is how much of a Steam library is simply greyed out. On Linux, it isn't. An eight-year-old laptop is not your GTA 6 machine, but between these two operating systems, Linux is now the better gaming platform, and it isn't close.
Verdict
On a spare machine: absolutely. It cost an evening, and what I got back is a laptop that boots fast, does exactly what I tell it, runs nothing I didn't choose, and that I understand end to end. There's also something clarifying about a desktop with no notifications begging for attention.
Just go in with the right expectation. The sixty seconds is the install.
The hour after is the actual project — and honestly, the fun part.