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Corro varios agentes respaldados por Bedrock en producción: análisis de documentos, emparejamiento de contenido, búsqueda en registros, búsqueda semántica. Esta es una pasada honesta sobre el OWASP Top 10 para aplicaciones LLM desde el lado de la implementación : el código de verdad que defiende cada riesgo y, igual de importante, las categorías donde mi respuesta es "parcial" o "todavía no". Primero el modelo de amenazas Un flujo de agentes es un pipeline: entrada no confiable → prompt → modelo → parseo → actuar. Cada flecha es una superficie de ataque. Antes de cualquier control, la pregunta más útil que me hice fue esta: ¿qué puede HACER de verdad un agente si el modelo está completamente manipulado? Mi respuesta dio forma a todo lo de abajo. Los agentes son mayormente-de-lectura : llaman a un modelo, leen filas acotadas de la base de datos, y escriben resultados de análisis con llave del usuario que pide. Sin shell, sin SQL arbitrario, sin llamada a herramientas. El radio de impacto es chico por construcción, que es el control más barato que existe. TL;DR, estatus honesto OWASP LLM Mi estatus El control LLM10 Consumo sin límite Fuerte Límite de tasa + cortacircuitos de costo mensual + topes de tokens por modelo LLM06 Agencia excesiva Fuerte (por diseño) Sin llamada a herramientas; mayormente-de-lectura; escrituras acotadas a quien llama LLM01 Inyección de prompt Parcial Contenido del usuario enmarcado como DATOS (delimitadores + preámbulo anti-inyección) LLM02 Divulgación de info sensible Parcial Limpieza de PII por regex antes del modelo; exclusiones auditadas LLM05 Manejo inadecuado de salida Parcial Validación de esquema + chequeos de fundamentación + sanear-antes-de-renderizar LLM07 Fuga del system prompt Parcial Registro versionado de prompts + regla anti-eco LLM08 Vector/Embedding N/A (todavía no construido) (nada) AuthN/Z + interruptor de apagado Fuerte Llave interna, gateo por cuota/gama, deshabilitado por agente LLM10 Consumo sin límite: empieza aquí, e

Why Your Agent's Search Results Look Right and Are Wrong: The Index Distribution Problem You've built an agent. It has a search tool. You query it with something reasonable — a factual question, a comparison, a technical lookup — and it returns results. The results look right. The sources are real. The snippets are plausible. The agent synthesizes them into a confident answer. And the answer is wrong. Not obviously wrong. Not hallucinated-in-a-hallucinatory-way wrong. Structurally wrong — wrong in a way that passes every surface-level check because the error is baked into the retrieval layer before the model ever sees the context. This isn't a prompt engineering problem. It isn't a context window problem. It's a distribution problem , and it has a structural ceiling that no amount of better prompting will fix. The Index Is a Frozen Decision Here's the thing most agent builders don't internalize: a search index is not a neutral representation of knowledge. It's a frozen set of decisions about what matters and what doesn't. Every index — whether it's a BM25 inverted index, a dense vector store, or a commercial web search API — encodes a distribution shaped by past relevance judgments. Someone, at some point, decided which documents were "relevant" to which queries. That could be explicit (human raters labeling search results) or implicit (click logs, dwell time, link graphs). Either way, the index now encodes a probability distribution over what the system considers a good answer to a given query. That distribution is not semantic truth. It's past relevance consensus . Consider what happens when you embed a corpus and build a vector index. Your embedding model was trained on data that reflects certain assumptions about what concepts are close to each other. Your chunking strategy encodes assumptions about what granularity of information is useful. Your ranking model — whether it's cross-encoder reranking or a learned relevance model — was trained on labeled data that

June 24, 2026. That is the shutdown date for every Imagen model on Firebase AI Logic — imagen-3.0-generate-002 , imagen-4.0-generate-001 , imagen-4.0-ultra-generate-001 , imagen-4.0-fast-generate-001 . All of them. If you have been putting off this migration, you have run out of runway. The replacement is Google's Gemini Image models — internally called "Nano Banana," publicly named gemini-2.5-flash-image . The migration is mostly a one-function rename and a response structure update, around 90 minutes of work for most codebases. The catch: one Imagen capability, mask-based editing, has no replacement at all. That separate deadline hits June 30. What Goes Dark and When Firebase AI Logic's migration documentation confirms these shutdown dates: imagen-3.0-generate-002 — June 24, 2026 imagen-4.0-generate-001 — June 24, 2026 imagen-4.0-ultra-generate-001 — June 24, 2026 imagen-4.0-fast-generate-001 — June 24, 2026 imagen-3.0-capability-001 (mask editing: inpainting, outpainting, object removal) — June 30, 2026 Vertex AI runs on a slightly different clock — Google recommends migrating before June 30, with a hard shutdown date of August 17 for Vertex AI users on legacy Imagen endpoints. Firebase AI Logic is the shorter deadline. Don't assume extra time if your app uses the Firebase SDK. The Core Migration: Python Three things change simultaneously: the method name, the model identifier, and the response structure. All three break if you miss any one of them. Before (Imagen): import google.generativeai as genai client = genai . Client ( api_key = " YOUR_KEY " ) response = client . models . generate_images ( model = " imagen-4.0-generate-001 " , prompt = " A red fox running through snow " , config = { " number_of_images " : 1 , " output_mime_type " : " image/jpeg " } ) image_bytes = response . generated_images [ 0 ]. image . image_bytes After (Gemini Image): import google.generativeai as genai client = genai . Client ( api_key = " YOUR_KEY " ) response = client . models . g

This is an adapted English version of an article I first wrote in Japanese. I work with AI to shape and review my drafts, but the argument and the field observations are my own. The numbers are cited from public surveys (linked at the end). I built an aggressive prompt-injection block to stop my AI agent from repeating the same mistakes. It worked, so I kept adding rules. By the time I noticed, the file had ballooned to 56,000 characters — and the agent had quietly stopped functioning. Too much context, attention spread too thin to act on any of it. I gutted it back to under 1,200 characters, and here's the part that still stings: it behaved better with fewer rules. That was the day I learned my whole mental model was backwards. This isn't a post about making your AI more accurate. It's about designing so that accuracy stops being the thing you depend on. The mistake I made for months My agent kept skipping the same step in a workflow. So I did what every engineer does on instinct: I added a rule. "Don't skip this step." Then it did something else dumb, so I added another rule. Then another. I was treating the rules file like a conversation with a colleague — as if the agent would remember yesterday's correction and carry it forward. It doesn't. Every run starts cold. "Be careful next time" assumes a next time that shares state with this time. For a stateless model, there is no continuity to appeal to. You are talking to a counterparty with no memory of the conversation you think you're having. So the rules pile up, because each correction feels like progress. And for a while the numbers even improve. But adding rules has a ceiling, and I blew straight through it: at 56,000 characters the agent wasn't reasoning over my guardrails anymore — it was drowning in them. Knowing a rule and stopping at it are different things Here's the distinction that took me far too long to see. Putting a rule in the context window means the model knows the rule. It does not mean the mod

We’ve all been there: waking up feeling like a zombie despite getting eight hours of sleep. While wearables give us data, they often fail to give us foresight . What if you could predict your stress levels 24 hours in advance? 🚀 In this tutorial, we are going to tackle HRV prediction (Heart Rate Variability) using a state-of-the-art Temporal Convolutional Network (TCN) . By leveraging the Oura Ring API and deep learning, we’ll transform non-stationary biometric time series into actionable insights. Whether you're into time series forecasting or building the next big health-tech app, mastering Temporal Convolutional Networks (TCN) is a game-changer for handling long-term dependencies without the vanishing gradient headaches of traditional RNNs. For those looking for more production-ready examples and advanced biometric signal processing patterns, I highly recommend checking out the deep-dives at WellAlly Blog , which served as a major inspiration for this architecture. The Architecture: Why TCN? Traditional LSTMs are great, but they process data sequentially, making them slow and prone to memory loss over long sequences. TCNs, however, use Dilated Causal Convolutions , allowing the model to look back exponentially further into the past with fewer layers. Data Flow Overview graph TD A[Oura Cloud API] -->|Raw JSON| B(Pandas Preprocessing) B -->|Cleaned HRV/Activity| C{Feature Engineering} C -->|Sliding Windows| D[TCN Model Training] D -->|Dilated Convolutions| E[Stress Trend Prediction] E -->|24h Forecast| F[Dashboard/Alerts] style D fill:#f9f,stroke:#333,stroke-width:2px Prerequisites To follow along, you'll need: Tech Stack : Python, TensorFlow/Keras, Pandas, Scikit-learn. Data : An Oura Cloud Personal Access Token (or use the mock data generator provided). Difficulty : Advanced (Buckle up! 🏎️). Step 1: Fetching Biometric Data First, we need to pull our "Readiness" and "Sleep" data. Oura provides high-resolution HRV samples (usually 5-minute intervals during sleep).

TL;DR — Harness engineering is one thing: getting reliable judgment out of a reasoner you didn't train — given an instruction, bounded by a spec that can override that instruction, and verified before the result ships. It is not "the wrapper around the model." It's a property of code, not a place in your stack, and it lives on both sides of every tool call. The generic scaffolding — loops, dispatch, memory — melts into the model a little more every quarter. What survives is the part that stays external to the model: the specification of what the agent may do, and the verification that it did. That's the discipline. The rest is plumbing. I've written before that Agent = Model × Harness , and that the harness is the half you actually engineer. I still believe the formula. But stop there and it oversells two things — so this is me correcting my own framing, precisely, with code. The two things the formula gets wrong The × oversells separability. Multiplication implies the factors are independent. They aren't. A better model doesn't leave your harness untouched — it dissolves parts of it. Chain-of-thought prompting became reasoning models. ReAct-style tool loops became native tool use. Half your RAG plumbing is being quietly absorbed by longer context and better-trained retrieval. Every model generation collapses a layer of harness the previous one needed. "Harness absorbs software engineering" oversells the annexation. It doesn't absorb it. It partly consumes it — pulls in the slice that encodes the agent's behavior — while the deterministic spine (payments, ledgers, auth) and the dumb tools stay exactly what they were. Relocation with an annexation at the seam. Not a takeover. Both corrections point at the same uncomfortable question: if the model eats the scaffold every quarter, isn't the harness the melting part — the thing you'd be foolish to bet a career on? What melts, and what doesn't Here's the resolution, and it's the whole point. The harness mechanism melts.

AI-generated answers now influence B2B buying decisions at the top of the funnel. Buyers use ChatGPT, Perplexity, Claude and Gemini to shortlist vendors before they ever visit a website. Which means the question "where does my brand actually appear in AI-generated answers?" is now a critical GTM intelligence question. Most brands don't know the answer. This post gives you the methodology to find out. What an AI visibility audit is — and isn't An AI visibility audit is not a technical SEO audit. You're not looking for broken links, page speed issues, or crawl errors (though those matter for a related reason). You're auditing citation density — how frequently and authoritatively your brand appears across the specific sources that LLMs draw from when generating recommendations. Those sources break down into 12 distinct surfaces. A brand can score 9/10 on one surface and 1/10 on eleven others — and the aggregate result is a brand that appears for some queries and not others in ways that seem inexplicable but are structurally predictable. The goal of this audit is to make that structure visible. The 12 surfaces — quick reference Before diving into the methodology, here's the full surface map: # Surface Primary platforms 1 AI Interfaces ChatGPT, Perplexity, Gemini, Claude, Copilot 2 Search + AI Search Google AI Overviews, Bing Copilot, Perplexity Search 3 Reviews + Reputation G2, Clutch, Capterra, industry-specific platforms 4 Earned Media + Publishers Trade press, business press, analyst reports 5 Owned Content + Website Brand site, blog, schema markup, answer-object pages 6 Technical + Developer GitHub, dev.to, Stack Overflow, Hacker News 7 Social + Authority LinkedIn, executive publishing, award citations 8 Data + Knowledge Graphs Wikipedia, Wikidata, Crunchbase, ZoomInfo 9 Marketplaces + Ecosystems Clutch category pages, Agency Spotter, partner directories 10 Case Studies + Proof Published case studies, award wins, client outcomes 11 Community + Q&A Reddit, Quora, Lin

If you've shipped software in the last three years, you've probably watched your job description...

Every developer I know has the same problem: knowledge scattered across five places at once. Browser bookmarks they never re-read. Notion docs that become graveyards. Slack threads with critical context that disappear into the archive. README files that contradict each other. Stack Overflow answers bookmarked with zero recall of why. I tried most of the "second brain" setups and none of them stuck until I figured out why they kept failing: generic productivity systems are not built for how developers actually think and work. A developer's knowledge is fundamentally different from a writer's or a manager's. It is: Code-linked (a note about a library is useless without the actual code it explains) Decision-heavy (architecture decisions need context, rationale, and alternatives considered) Debugging-intensive (solutions to bugs need the exact error message, environment, and what you tried) Time-sensitive (that API migration note is only relevant for a 3-month window) Here is the structure that actually worked. The Core Structure 00-Inbox/ 10-Projects/ 20-Areas/ - Language: Python/ - Stack: AWS/ - Domain: Auth/ 30-Resources/ - Libraries/ - Tools/ - Patterns/ 40-Archive/ The key insight: Resources are evergreen, Projects are temporary, Areas are ongoing responsibilities. A note about how JWT works lives in 30-Resources/Domain-Auth/ . A note about implementing JWT for the current sprint lives in 10-Projects/Sprint-42-Auth-Revamp/ . When the sprint is done, the project gets archived. The JWT fundamentals note stays forever. The Templates That Made It Click Architecture Decision Record (ADR) # ADR-042: Use Postgres over DynamoDB for user sessions Status: Accepted | Date: 2026-06-22 ## Context We need session storage that supports complex queries for the audit log feature. ## Decision Postgres with connection pooling via PgBouncer. ## Alternatives Considered - DynamoDB: rejected (query limitations for audit log requirements) - Redis: rejected (not durable enough for complian

1. Introduction Django's ORM is one of its greatest strengths. It abstracts away raw SQL, lets you express database operations in clean Python, and gets you productive fast. But that convenience comes with a hidden cost: if you're not deliberate about how you fetch related objects, you'll silently generate far more queries than you intend — and you won't notice until your app slows to a crawl in production. The most common culprit is the N+1 query problem : a pattern where fetching a list of N objects triggers an additional query for each one, resulting in N+1 total round-trips to the database. At ten rows it's invisible. At ten thousand rows, it's a disaster. Django provides two tools to fix this: select_related and prefetch_related . This article explains how each one works internally, when to use which, and how to combine them effectively — with before/after examples and real query counts throughout. 2. Understanding the N+1 Problem Consider a simple blog with posts and authors. You want to render a list of posts, showing each post's title and its author's name. Models: # models.py from django.db import models class Author ( models . Model ): name : str = models . CharField ( max_length = 100 ) class Post ( models . Model ): title : " str = models.CharField(max_length=200) " author : Author = models . ForeignKey ( Author , on_delete = models . CASCADE , related_name = " posts " , ) The naive approach: # views.py from django.db import connection from .models import Post def list_posts () -> None : posts = Post . objects . all () # Query 1: fetch all posts for post in posts : print ( f " { post . title } by { post . author . name } " ) # ^^^ Query 2, 3, 4, ... N+1: one per post For 100 posts, this produces 101 queries . Django lazily fetches post.author the first time you access it on each object. Each access hits the database separately. You can verify this with django.db.connection.queries (requires DEBUG = True ): from django.db import connection , reset_queries

The scary part of an agent-driven container escape is not the container escape. That sounds wrong, so let me be precise. The primitives in Sysdig's latest threat research are not new magic. A mounted Docker socket has been a bad idea for years. Over-permissioned Kubernetes service accounts have been a bad idea for years. Privileged containers are dangerous. Host namespace tricks are dangerous. Secrets reachable from application pods are dangerous. None of this should surprise anyone who has had to review production Kubernetes setups with a straight face. The new part is the operator. Sysdig observed what it describes as an LLM-harness-driven attacker exploiting a vulnerable marimo notebook, enumerating the container and host environment, using the Docker socket as an escape path, creating privileged containers, reading host credentials, and replaying a Kubernetes service-account token to dump Secrets. That is the part worth sitting with. Not because the agent invented a new class of exploit. Because it made the old mistakes compose faster. the attack surface was already there Most security incidents are not movie plots. They are boring edges left open long enough for someone to connect them. In this case, the edges are familiar. An internet-reachable application had a vulnerability. The workload had access to a Docker socket. The container environment exposed enough information to enumerate possible escape paths. A Kubernetes service-account token was available. The token had enough RBAC to read Secrets. Secrets contained useful downstream credentials. That is not one bug. That is a chain of assumptions. The application team may have thought about the notebook vulnerability. The platform team may have thought about the Docker socket as a convenience for one workflow. The Kubernetes team may have thought the service account was scoped "only" to a namespace. The security team may have had runtime alerts somewhere in the backlog. Each decision can look locally tolerabl

Learn how Jason Liu uses Codex to preserve context, manage complex projects, and help work continue beyond a single prompt.