Disclaimer, I have not yet placed the order. But JLCPCB have so far excepted all files and config so I have 1 more button to press. If anyone see some obvious mistake please send feedback. This project grew out of curiosity. Loved the https://monster6502.com/ project but that is on another level. Here I tried to stay "reasonable" and added a Raspberry Pico 2 W on the back to drive it all. But also, was curious if Claude could pull this off. Guess I will have to place that order to call the cards

I submitted an abstract to AAAI AISI and accidentally missed the field asking authors to nominate a reciprocal reviewer by the July 21 AoE deadline. At the time of submission, I knew that I personally did not meet the publication requirements to serve as a reviewer. After adding my graduate-student co-authors to the submission, I realized that one of them was qualified and could fulfill the reciprocal-reviewing obligation, but we overlooked the nomination field before the deadline because it wasn't a required field. As soon as we noticed, we added the qualified co-author to OpenReview as a potential reciprocal reviewer (edits were still accepted) and emailed the workflow chairs. He meets the publication requirements and is willing to complete the full reviewing load. The policy says that if a qualified author is available but no one is nominated, the submission may be desk rejected. The full paper deadline is in two days, and so far we have only received the automated response shown in the attached screenshot. Has anyone dealt with a similar situation at AAAI or another conference? Do you think this is likely to lead to a desk rejection, or are workflow chairs usually willing to correct this kind of administrative mistake when a qualified reviewer is available? submitted by /u/TheSupremeEgger [link] [留言]

OpenAI's ChatGPT Work materials have put a familiar enterprise question into sharper focus: how far can an AI assistant move from answering prompts to supporting coordinated, multi-step work? The supplied research identifies official OpenAI documentation covering capabilities, governance and enterprise rollout, but it does not establish a complete public feature list, pricing model or availability schedule. For prospective buyers, that makes disciplined evaluation more useful than assumptions about what the offering may eventually automate. The interest is understandable. A workplace AI product that can help teams turn requests into coordinated plans, reusable outputs or connected workflows could affect knowledge work well beyond individual chat sessions. But the available material does not substantiate specific claims about autonomous web or app generation, collaborative trip planning, or the exact scope of automation. Those scenarios should be treated as possible use cases to evaluate, not confirmed ChatGPT Work functionality. What the available ChatGPT Work materials establish The most reliable starting point is OpenAI's ChatGPT Work product page . According to the supplied research, OpenAI's official materials describe ChatGPT Work in the context of capabilities, governance and enterprise rollout . That framing matters because enterprise AI adoption is not solely a model-performance decision. It also involves how a tool fits existing systems, who can use it, what data it can access, and how organizations retain operational control. The research does not provide enough detail to verify particular integrations, permission settings, security certifications, pricing, regional availability or release dates. Enterprises should therefore avoid treating broad product positioning as a procurement specification. The practical question is whether the official documentation and commercial terms available at the time of evaluation answer the organization's specific requireme

SpaceXAI's model for coding, agentic tasks & knowledge work Discussion | Link

There's something about a movie like The Room, Troll 2, or Fateful Findings that I find irresistible. These sorts of "so bad they're good" films are marvelous curiosities where ambition far outstrips resources, ability, and self-awareness to become something much greater than the sum of their parts. Champagne and Bullets (also released as GetEven and […]

I've always been amazed by how Oracle Database handles updates to a unique column—performing set-based operations that don't violate the unique constraint, yet when executed row by row, it temporarily permits duplicates. SQL > create table franck ( val int unique ); Table created . SQL > insert into franck values ( - 1 ) , ( 1 ) ; 2 rows created . SQL > select val from franck ; VAL ---------- - 1 1 SQL > update franck set val =- val ; 2 rows updated . SQL > select val from franck ; VAL ---------- 1 - 1 From a SQL perspective, this is expected behavior, but not all databases support it without raising an error: Db2 , SQL Server , and Oracle handle it without error. PostgreSQL raises ERROR: duplicate key value violates unique constraint "franck_val_key", DETAIL: Key (val)=(1) already exists. This works with a deferred constraint. MySQL or MariaDB raise Duplicate entry '1' for key 'franck.val' SQLite raises { "code": "SQLITE_CONSTRAINT_UNIQUE" } MongoDB raises E11000 duplicate key error collection: test.franck index: val_1 dup key: { val: 1 } db . franck . createIndex ({ val : 1 }, { unique : true }); db . franck . insertMany ([ { val : - 1 }, { val : 1 } ]); db . franck . updateMany ({},[ { $set : { val : { $multiply :[ " $val " , - 1 ]} } } ]); MongoServerError : Plan executor error during update :: caused by :: E11000 duplicate key error collection : test . franck index : val_1 dup key : { val : 1 } This is surprising because Oracle unique indexes store the indexed columns as the B-tree key and the ROWID as the associated data. Non-unique indexes add the ROWID to the physical key and are required for a deferrable unique constraint to allow temporary duplication before the end of the transaction. So how do non-deferrable unique indexes allow duplication during a single update statement? In this simple example, I would expect: The initial index entries are: (-1): row #1 and (1): row #2 Updating the first row deletes the first entry (-1): row #1 and adds one with (1):

A smart contract can't tell whether a submitted score came from a valid game or was simply made up. Dario Dash handles that by proving the run itself. I have been building Dario Dash , a small endless runner on Dusk. The game runs in the browser and does not require a wallet to play. After a ranked run, the browser can generate a Groth16 proof locally and submit the score to a smart contract. The contract does not trust the submitted score. It accepts it only after verifying the proof, binding it to the transaction sender and checking that the run seed has not already been used. The source is available on GitHub . What actually needs to be proven? A score by itself says almost nothing. A client could simply submit any number it wants. For Dario Dash, a valid run includes much more than the final score: the player movement and jump timing the seed-derived obstacle schedule obstacle clearance and collision windows item pickups damage and game-over conditions fireball kills transitions between Regular, Super, Fire and Cape forms the number of ticks played the resulting score The proof must establish that these rules were followed from the initial state until the claimed final state. It also needs to bind the run to the account submitting it, otherwise somebody could copy another player's proof. The architecture The repository is split into a few layers: dash_zk contains the deterministic game simulation used by the browser proving path. dash_core contains a separate 60 Hz simulation used by the RISC Zero path. dash_web exposes the Rust simulation to the browser through WebAssembly. zk_browser contains the Circom circuit and the JavaScript proof conversion code. contract verifies the proof and maintains the leaderboard on Dusk. web contains the playable Vite application. The important boundary is that the game logic is deterministic and integer-only. Floating point physics would be a mess to reproduce consistently across JavaScript, WebAssembly, the proof circuit and th

When good cameras got cheap, everyone predicted the death of professional photography. The prediction landed wrong. The low end died outright: stock libraries, cheap portraits, mass-event coverage went to anyone with a phone and a free editing app. The high end did better than ever — editorial work, photojournalism with access nobody else had, an aesthetic you could not reproduce by buying the same gear. The damage landed in the middle. Small weddings, corporate headshots, real estate listings, the steady unglamorous bulk of the market: not extinction, compression. Prices fell, volume moved to cheaper substitutes, and the survivors climbed up or specialized out. That compression is the cleanest map I know for what AI-assisted coding is doing to software work. And this half I know from inside: two decades leading dev teams, and now building AI tooling for them. The comfortable half of the argument The reassuring version of this is everywhere right now: you were never paid to type, you were paid to think, so AI just frees you to do the valuable part. It's not wrong. It's just the half that's easy to hear. The other half is about the market, not about you. Judgment, architecture, knowing what breaks in maintenance, deciding what not to build — a model that writes plausible code on command doesn't commoditize any of that. I have watched weeks of confusion land on people who could not read what a capable model generated; the gap was never the tool, and better AI autocomplete does not close that gap. But "judgment beats typing" answers only a question about skill and dodges the question about market structure. AI doesn't replace developers as a class; it commoditizes a segment. The segment it hits first is the same one the camera hit: the middle. The junior-to-mid tier that lived on CRUD apps, simple integrations, brochure sites, the standard internal tool with a form and a table behind it. That work was always implementation against a known spec, and implementation again

As Apple prepares to launch its first smart glasses, the company may also be wrestling with how to address consumer privacy concerns.

Headline: Next.js Middleware (middleware.ts at the project root) runs before every matched request — before cache, before rendering, before the route. That position makes it right for auth redirects, A/B cookie bucketing, and locale detection. Wrong for database queries and heavy imports. In 2026, Middleware on Vercel runs on Fluid Compute (standard Node.js), so the constraint is latency budget, not API availability. Key takeaways Middleware runs before every matched request — before cache, rendering, or route handler — the right layer for auth, locale, and A/B bucketing. Middleware can read requests, set cookies, redirect, rewrite, or return early — without the route running. DB queries and large packages add latency to every request. On Vercel in 2026, Middleware runs on Fluid Compute (standard Node.js). The constraint is latency: every added millisecond is paid on every matched request. Use matcher to scope Middleware to only the routes that need it; without it Middleware runs on every static asset request. Auth in Middleware = verifying a self-contained JWT without a DB call. Full session validation belongs in the route. I spent a long time only using Middleware for locale redirects. After shipping auth-protected routes and an A/B test, the full shape became clear. What is Next.js Middleware and where does it run? Middleware is exported from middleware.ts at the project root. It intercepts matched requests before route resolution, cache lookup, and Server Component execution. Returns one of four types: pass through ( NextResponse.next() ), redirect, rewrite (serve different content while keeping original URL in address bar), or a direct response. export function middleware ( request : NextRequest ) { return NextResponse . next (); } export const config = { matcher : [ ' /((?!_next/static|_next/image|favicon.ico).*) ' ], }; Without matcher , Middleware runs on every request including static files. On Vercel in 2026, Middleware runs on Fluid Compute — standard Nod

Encrypted data stored in cloud archives today will outlive the mathematical algorithms guarding it. In enterprise architectures that handle long-term records, like construction risk logs or employee compliance platforms, data retention schedules often span twenty to thirty years. When building cloud pipelines that move this information across services, we depend heavily on asymmetric encryption, which is a security method using one public key to lock data and a separate private key to unlock it. Standard public-key algorithms rely on mathematical problems that are nearly impossible for classical computers to solve within a reasonable human timeframe. Quantum computing changes this equation entirely. Quantum computers leverage quantum mechanics, the physical rules governing subatomic particles, to perform calculations at speeds fundamentally unimaginable with traditional silicon processors. While powerful quantum systems are still in development, the security threat to distributed systems exists today. Hostile actors do not need to crack modern security algorithms in real time. Through a pattern known as Harvest Now, Decrypt Later, adversaries can capture and store encrypted network traffic right now. They simply wait until future quantum hardware becomes capable of running the formulas required to decrypt that stolen history. For software architects, preparing for post-quantum cryptography, which refers to new mathematical encryption algorithms designed to withstand quantum attacks, is far more than a simple library swap. It is a deep distributed systems migration challenge. The primary operational hurdle is payload size and computational overhead. Quantum-resistant algorithms require significantly larger digital keys and payload headers than the standards we rely on today. When cryptographic payloads expand, every component of a distributed platform feels the ripple effect. Message queues experience higher bandwidth demands. Database indexes inflate. Memory consump

I didn't set out to build a developer tool. For a long time now I've been working with AI on everything in my life — daily conversations about my daughters, planning projects, ideas for ones that don't exist yet. The goal was always the same: ease my life, get more done, and break the barrier between human and AI — stop treating it as a search box, start treating it as a partner. Somewhere along the way, the partnership got serious. The workspace where my projects live grew an instruction system for AI coding agents — the files everyone is writing now: AGENTS.md , CLAUDE.md , a skills directory, rules for how agents should plan, log, and verify their work. Then I asked an uncomfortable question: is any of it actually followed? Not "do the agents seem to follow it." Could anyone tell , from the repository alone, whether an instruction was followed? For most of my rules, the answer was no. My own audit found that the two checks my instructions said must run before every commit were invoked by nothing — no CI, no hook, no scheduled task. The rule had been enforced, for its entire life, by whoever remembered. Replaying my last 200 commits, the index-freshness rule alone would have failed on 29 of 61 eligible commits — roughly half. My instructions were not rules. They were hopes with formatting. So I wondered whether everyone else's are too. I wrote a tool and measured. What I measured, and the two honest limits that come before the numbers I analysed eight public agent-instruction collections — 1,332 instruction units, 17,611 individual instructions — each at a pinned commit SHA, with the raw per-repo JSON published alongside the tool. An instruction counts as CHECKABLE if a reviewer could tell from the repo whether it happened: it's a tick-box, or contains a runnable command, or names a concrete file artifact, or refers to an exit code, a diff, an assertion. Everything else is CLAIMABLE — the only evidence it happened is the agent saying so. Two limits, before any num

I recently tried to share an open-source project I've been working on called Open Vectorizer . It's a raster-to-SVG vectorization engine written in Rust. It runs locally, compiles to WebAssembly, has a reproducible benchmark suite, and competes surprisingly well with established tools like Potrace and VTracer. I wanted people to see it. More importantly, I wanted contributors. That's where things got weird. First, Hacker News Open Vectorizer felt like a natural fit for Show HN. It's open source. It's technical. There's an interesting algorithm behind it. There are benchmarks people can reproduce and argue about, which I'm told is approximately 73% of Hacker News' renewable energy supply. Except I couldn't submit a Show HN. Hacker News is temporarily restricting Show HN submissions from newer users because of a large influx of people unfamiliar with the community. Fair enough. Annoying, but understandable. So I tried Reddit. Then r/rust Open Vectorizer is written in Rust, so r/rust seemed like an even more obvious place to share it. The post was automatically removed. The subreddit now requires project submissions to certify that they do not contain significant AI-generated content . And that's something I can't honestly certify. Open Vectorizer has been developed with substantial AI assistance. So I didn't repost it. Then r/opensource Surely an MIT-licensed project actively looking for contributors belongs in an open-source community. Their rules include: All AI-generated content is low-effort and ban worthy. At this point I had to appreciate the situation. I had an open-source project. I wanted humans to contribute to it. And some of the communities containing exactly those humans didn't want me to tell them about it because machines had helped write it. Here's the problem I actually understand why these rules exist. AI has made it incredibly cheap to produce software-shaped objects. You can ask an agent to build a database, publish 20,000 lines to GitHub an hour l