标签：#ai

If you're a music maker of a certain age, then you probably once dabbled with a pirated copy of a little app called Fruity Loops. These days it's called FL Studio, and Constantin Koehncke, is the man responsible for shepherding the pioneering digital audio workstation (DAW) through the modern age. As CEO of Image Line, […]

ChatGPT is hiring a dedicated product manager to build experiences for families, caregivers, and older adults, according to a job posting.

The Ultimate Claude Masterclass: 13 Power Features Changing the AI Game Artificial Intelligence is no longer just about asking questions and getting text answers. Anthropic’s Claude has evolved from a simple chatbot into a fully autonomous, visual, and connected AI ecosystem. If you are still using it just to draft emails, you are barely scratching the surface. Whether you are a developer, content creator, or business professional, here is your definitive guide to the 13 powerhouse features of Claude, packed with practical examples, formatted specifically for Dev.to. 🧩 Part 1: Smart Onboarding & Personalization 1. Introduction to Claude Claude stands out in the crowded AI landscape because of its advanced reasoning, high emotional intelligence, and natural, human-like writing style. From parsing complex codebases to writing creative narratives, Claude feels less like a machine and more like a brilliant colleague. 2. Import Memory From ChatGPT To Claude Switching platforms shouldn't mean losing your progress. With this feature, you can instantly migrate your entire persona, past context, and custom instructions from ChatGPT straight into Claude with a single click. Example: If ChatGPT already knows your coding style or specific brand rules, importing it means Claude hits the ground running without you having to re-explain everything. 3. Add User Preferences Tired of typing "Act as a Senior Developer" or "Keep it casual" in every single prompt? User Preferences lets you set permanent system-level instructions that Claude remembers across all new conversations. Example: You can set a preference like: I manage a technology brand. Always keep explanations direct, modular, and optimized for scalability. 🎨 Part 2: Visuals, Coding & Apps 4. Create Apps & Artifacts Using Claude For Free Claude’s Artifacts feature opens a dedicated, interactive window right next to your chat. When you ask Claude to write code, a webpage, or a game, it doesn't just show you lines of text—it re

The narrative around Artificial Intelligence and software engineering has shifted dramatically. We are no longer asking if AI will change development, but rather how we change with it. If your value as a developer is tied solely to how fast you can churn out boilerplate code, write standard API endpoints, or memorize syntax, the landscape is becoming challenging. AI can do those things in seconds. However, this isn't a death sentence for the engineering career—it is an evolution. The industry is moving away from pure "code generation" and shifting toward system architecture, integration, and governance. To remain indispensable, you need to know exactly where to direct your energy and what pitfalls to avoid. Where to Focus Your Energy To stay relevant, you must position yourself in the areas where AI struggles: high-level abstraction, complex contextual reasoning, and human leadership. 1. System Design and Enterprise Architecture AI is excellent at writing isolated functions, but it struggles with massive, interconnected systems. Focus on how components interact at scale. Understanding how to slice a monolithic application into resilient microservices, orchestrate microfrontends, or design cloud-native solutions is where the high-value work lies. 2. Code Governance and Quality Assurance With AI generating code at unprecedented speeds, codebases are expanding faster than ever. The world doesn't just need people who can create code; it needs gatekeepers who can validate it. Your role will increasingly focus on setting quality standards, establishing robust CI/CD pipelines, and ensuring that AI-generated code adheres to strict security, compliance, and performance metrics. 3. Mentorship and Team Leadership The influx of AI tools means junior engineers can produce code much earlier in their careers, but they often lack the foundational experience to spot subtle architectural flaws or security vulnerabilities. Senior developers must step up as leaders, guiding less experi

Everyone who has ever been right about something loud enough to remember it will tell you they called it. The screenshot arrives after the match, after the candle, after the election. And there is no way to know whether it was written on Monday or edited on Friday. This is the quiet rot at the center of most "track records": a prediction you cannot date is not a prediction at all. It is a memory with good lighting. The technical name for the problem is look-ahead . If a forecast can be created, tweaked, or cherry-picked after the outcome is known, then it carries zero information about skill. The only fix is to make the timing of a prediction independently checkable вАФ to prove a document existed in a specific form before a specific moment, without asking anyone to trust you, your server clock, or your database. That is precisely what OpenTimestamps does, using the Bitcoin blockchain as a shared, tamper-evident clock. Why timing is the whole game A forecast is a bet against the future. Its value comes entirely from the fact that the future was unknown when the forecast was fixed. The instant you allow post-hoc editing, every desirable property collapses: calibration becomes meaningless, Brier scores become fiction, and "I predicted this" becomes unfalsifiable. So an honest forecasting system needs one hard guarantee before anything else: this exact text existed at this exact time, and has not changed since. Note what that guarantee does not require. It does not require publishing the forecast publicly in advance (you might want it sealed). It does not require a notary, a lawyer, or a trusted timestamping company that could be subpoenaed, hacked, or simply go out of business. It requires a clock that nobody controls and nobody can wind backward. What "proof of existence" actually means The building block is a cryptographic hash вАФ typically SHA-256. Feed any file into it and you get a 64-character fingerprint. Change a single comma and the fingerprint changes compl

By the team at MailTester Ninja — a real-time email verification API that stores nothing. Everyone says "IPv6 is here." For the web, mostly true. For email , it is a mirage. We resolved the MX records of 50,000 of the most-linked domains and checked whether any of their mail servers publish an AAAA record, meaning they can actually receive over IPv6. No sending, no personal data, just DNS. 55.2% of mail-enabled domains have at least one IPv6-capable MX. That sounds healthy. It is not, because two companies carry almost the whole number: Email provider IPv6 MX Other / self-hosted ██░░░░░░░░ 18.4% Google Workspace / Gmail ██████████ 100% Microsoft 365 / Outlook █████████░ 91.3% Proofpoint ░░░░░░░░░░ 0.6% Mimecast ░░░░░░░░░░ 0% Tencent QQ ░░░░░░░░░░ 4.2% Namecheap ░░░░░░░░░░ 0.2% Cisco IronPort ░░░░░░░░░░ 4.5% Zoho ░░░░░░░░░░ 0% Barracuda ░░░░░░░░░░ 0% Google ( 100% ) and Microsoft ( 91.3% ) run IPv6 on nearly every inbox. Remove those two, the providers that already anchor most of the world's mail, and IPv6 email adoption falls from 55.2% to 12.9% . The enterprise security gateways that gate corporate mail, such as Proofpoint, Mimecast and Barracuda, are effectively not on IPv6 at all. Why it matters for deliverability. IPv6-only sending is a dead end. It reaches Gmail and Outlook and little else. Dual-stack is not optional. IPv4 is still the backbone of email, and that is where blocklists, FCrDNS and IP reputation are mature. The takeaway: IPv6 email is not adopted. Google and Microsoft adopted it for you. Plan your sending for an IPv4 world with two big IPv6 exceptions. Check any domain yourself — our free deliverability analyzer shows a domain's MX / SPF / DMARC in one click (no signup, nothing stored). Need to confirm whether a specific mailbox actually exists and is deliverable? That is exactly what MailTester Ninja's email verifier does in real time — and we store no data. Source: MailTester Ninja's open Email Infrastructure Index — a live DNS scan of 50,000 of

Most "AI email" demos never think about deletion. The agent reads, replies, files things away, and the inbox just grows. That's fine in a demo. It is a problem the first time a real person emails your agent, because the moment that mailbox holds someone else's name, address, order history, or support complaint, you've taken on a data-protection obligation — and "we kept everything forever" is not a defensible retention policy. An Agent Account on Nylas accumulates personal data you have to be able to purge. It's a mailbox the agent owns — support@yourcompany.com answering to a model instead of a human — and every inbound message lands in it. Under GDPR that data needs two things you can prove: a retention window so it doesn't live forever, and an erasure path so you can delete a specific person's mail when they ask. This post builds both, with the curl and the CLI for each step. A quick, honest caveat before any of it: this is a docs-and-demo walkthrough, not legal advice. The Nylas primitives below cover the mail held in the mailbox . Any derived copy you made — rows in your own database, lines in your application logs, a vector store you embedded the message into — is yours to purge separately. The API can delete the message; it can't reach into your Postgres. Keep that in mind throughout. What the platform gives you Nothing new to learn on the data plane. An Agent Account is just a grant with a grant_id , so everything you already know about Messages and Threads applies directly — listing, reading, and deleting mail run against the same grant-scoped endpoints any other Nylas integration uses. Retention and erasure split cleanly into two layers: Retention is a control-plane setting. It lives on a policy — an application-scoped resource that bundles limits and spam settings — attached to the workspace your Agent Account belongs to. Two fields cap how long mail survives: limit_inbox_retention_period and limit_spam_retention_period . Set them once and Nylas deletes a

Spam traps are the failure mode nobody puts in the demo. A bounce is loud — you get a 5.x.x back, your code logs it, you move on. A complaint at least gives you a webhook. A spam trap gives you nothing . The message gets accepted, no error comes back, and somewhere a mailbox provider quietly writes your domain down as a spammer. By the time you notice, your inbox placement has already cratered and you have no single bounce to point at. That's the trap, literally. And it's the one that bites autonomous agents the hardest, because the whole appeal of an agent is that it acts without a human watching every send. Point a model at a list it scraped, let it loop, and it'll happily mail a recycled address that's been a trap for two years. The agent never sees a problem. You only see the aftermath in your deliverability dashboard a week later. I work on the Nylas CLI, so the terminal commands below are the exact ones I reach for when I'm wiring up an Agent Account to not do this. The good news is that an Agent Account is just a grant — a grant_id that works with every grant-scoped endpoint you already know — so there's nothing new to learn on the data plane. The defense is mostly discipline: validate before you send, honor every complaint, and age out the addresses that never wanted to hear from you. What a spam trap actually is, and why it's not a bounce It's worth being precise here, because the three things people lump together behave completely differently. A bounce is a rejected delivery. The receiving server tells you the address is bad, you get a message.bounced event, and you stop. Bounce handling is a solved problem — you listen, you suppress, you're done. A complaint is a recipient hitting "report spam." The mailbox provider relays that back as a feedback loop, and you get a message.complaint event. The address is real and reachable; the human just doesn't want your mail. If you keep mailing them, you're training the provider to filter you. A spam trap is neither.

This is a submission for Weekend Challenge: Passion Edition What I Built Loyalty Ledger — a fan loyalty tracker where your check-in streak, badges, and history live on Solana instead of some app's database. Live app: https://loyalty-ledger-blond.vercel.app Here's the problem I kept coming back to. Every sports app wants you to check in, engage, "prove your loyalty" — collect points, build a streak, unlock a badge. Cool. Except every single one of them throws that history away the second you stop opening the app. Switch apps and your streak resets to zero. Get banned, or the app shuts down, or they just quietly decide to wipe inactive accounts one day — and your history is just... gone. Because it was never actually yours. It was a number sitting in someone else's database, and they could reset it, inflate it, or delete it whenever they felt like it. You had zero say in it. And that bugged me way more than it probably should have. Like — we figured out how to make ownership portable for money, for domain names, for digital art. But "I've supported Argentina since 2019" 🇦🇷 still lives and dies inside one company's backend, and nobody's really questioned that. So I kept the weekend scope deliberately small: prove one fan's loyalty to one team, for real, end to end — instead of sketching ten features that are all half-fake. You connect a wallet, pick a sport and team, and check in. FIFA World Cup is the fully working path here ⚽ — that check-in sends an actual transaction that creates or updates a program-owned account, not a row in my database somewhere. Your streak count, your badge tier, the actual badge tokens — none of it exists anywhere I control. Which honestly felt a little weird to build, in a good way. Once that core loop worked, I built the rest of the identity around it: a Fan Passport that shows your streak, a derived "Fan Score," your tier (Rookie → Devoted → Veteran → Legend 🏆), a progress bar toward the next tier, an achievements grid with locked/unlocke

Is paying a reasonable price for colorful cardboard too much to ask?

Roleplaying games are often defined by excess. Storylines that span dozens of hours, side quests so big they could be their own game, massive worlds that require complex maps to explore, and casts so big you start forgetting character names. That's part of what makes these games feel like epic adventures, but it can also […]

Hello, I'm Maneshwar. I'm building git-lrc, a Micro AI code reviewer that runs on every commit. It is...

In the previous post I argued that agents are great planners and DAGs are great executors . This one is the practical follow-up: when you actually sit down to wire several LLM calls together, what tool do you reach for? Because the moment one prompt's output feeds the next, you've built a workflow — whether you call it that or not. download transcript → summarize → translate (tool) (LLM) (LLM) That tiny pipeline is already the whole problem in miniature: a non-LLM step (fetch a YouTube transcript), then a model call, then another model call that depends on the first. Run it as one giant prompt and you lose visibility; split it into steps and you gain debuggability — at the cost of more calls and more state to manage. The naming trap Half the confusion is vocabulary. The same idea ships under a dozen labels: Name What it whispers Chain sequential, output → input Pipeline stages, data flowing through Flow branches and conditions Workflow general orchestration Agent workflow the model also decides The word sets expectations. "Chain" promises a straight line; "agent workflow" promises the thing might re-plan on you mid-run. Pick the label that matches how much autonomy you're actually handing over — calling a deterministic two-step pipeline an "agent" only invites disappointment. The real choice: library or orchestrator? There are two families of tools, and they solve different problems. LLM-native chaining libraries — LangChain , LlamaIndex Workflows , Azure Prompt Flow , or visual layers like Flowise . These understand LLM-specific concerns out of the box: prompt templating, passing context between steps, token budgets, streaming, retries on a flaky model. General orchestrators — Airflow , Prefect , AWS Step Functions , Azure Logic Apps . These treat each LLM call as just another task in a DAG, and give you the heavyweight reliability machinery: durable state, scheduling, checkpointing, audit trails, human approval. The rule of thumb that falls out of the last post: F

A container's writable layer feels like a filesystem, and that's exactly the trap. Write a database into it, remove the container, and the data is gone — no warning, no recovery. If you want anything to survive docker rm , it has to live outside the container, and Docker gives you three ways to do that: named volumes, bind mounts, and tmpfs. Knowing which one to reach for is most of the battle. Why the writable layer betrays you Every running container gets a thin read-write layer stacked on top of its image layers. It looks persistent because you can docker exec in and see your files. But that layer is bound to the container's lifecycle. docker run --name scratch alpine sh -c 'echo hello > /data.txt; cat /data.txt' # hello docker rm scratch # the layer — and /data.txt — no longer exists There's no "oops." The writable layer is discarded with the container. Persistence is not a default you get; it's a decision you make. That decision is a volume, a bind mount, or tmpfs. Named volumes: the default for state A named volume is storage that Docker creates and manages for you. You give it a name, Docker keeps the actual bytes under its own directory, and you never have to care where that is. docker volume create pgdata docker run -d --name db \ --mount type = volume,source = pgdata,target = /var/lib/postgresql/data \ postgres:16 The container writes to /var/lib/postgresql/data , but those bytes land in a Docker-managed location on the host. Remove and recreate the container against the same volume and the data is still there. docker rm -f db docker run -d --name db \ --mount type = volume,source = pgdata,target = /var/lib/postgresql/data \ postgres:16 # same data, new container Where do the bytes actually live? Under Docker's data root, typically /var/lib/docker/volumes/<name>/_data : docker volume inspect pgdata --format '{{ .Mountpoint }}' # /var/lib/docker/volumes/pgdata/_data The point is that you're not supposed to reach into that path directly — Docker owns it. You

Lately, I've been doing some deep personal reflection. I'm talking about myself, I hope no one misunderstands, on how pervasive the use of AI has become in my daily development workflow. Through a bit of self-analysis, I've discovered some interesting dynamics. Dependencies often arise from the desire to fill a void. But what kind of void does an experienced developer like me face? As a professional, I have the skills. Sure, AI helps me get things done faster, but the final product is always the translation of my vision; if I don't fully understand the solution, I discard it. I'm not looking for "magic," I'm looking for efficiency. Yet, I realize I've used AI to fill a specific void: the need for discussion. Software development is inherently solitary. The satisfaction of a successful "execution" after hours of discussions, refinements, and clashes over an architecture is an experience I miss today. The chat interface is always there, ready to respond. But there's a problem: it's a "yes-man." Even when I force it to be critical or provocative via the system's prompts, I know it's just reciting a script to please me. There's no conviction, no risk of error, none of the friction that arises when a colleague courageously defends their vision, perhaps one that conflicts with mine. We are part of a huge community, but debate often remains superficial. One might argue that posts and comments are enough, but anyone who has tried knows it doesn't work very well: a debate is truly alive only when there is no latency. In comments, the time between thinking, writing, and waiting for a response diminishes the energy of the exchange, turning it into a series of monologues rather than a dialogue. Why don't we try creating "virtual tables" where we can discuss projects, architectures, and technical choices with the natural rhythm of a conversation? Direct, real-time discussions, in person or remotely, where the exchange of ideas can spark sparks, without the filter (and delay) of

Finding a co-founder is one of the hardest parts of building a startup, and most platforms weren't built for it. LinkedIn is a professional directory, not a matching network. Reddit threads are noisy and unstructured. Cold outreach is a gamble. FoundrGeeks is built specifically for this problem . It's an AI-powered co-founder and team matching platform that connects builders based on what they're building, what skills they bring, and what gaps they need to fill, not just their job title or who they already know. The problem with finding a co-founder most builders looking for a co-founder face the same wall: the people they need aren't in their network, and the platforms that exist weren't designed for this specific search. You're not just looking for someone with the right skills. You need someone at the same stage, with the same intensity, who fills exactly the gaps you have right now. And you need to know that before spending three hours on discovery calls. That's the gap FoundrGeeks fills. How FoundrGeeks works When you create a profile, you describe what you're building, what you bring to the table, and what you need. You set your stage, idea, MVP, or funded, and your weekly availability. From there, the AI takes over. It surfaces people whose strengths complement your gaps, scores each match as Strong, Good, or Potential, and generates a plain-English explanation of why each person fits what you're building right now. Three features stand out at launch: Complementary matching: the engine looks for people who fill your gaps, not mirror your background Scored matches with explanations, every match tells you exactly why, before you reach out Stage-aware feeds, as you move from idea to MVP to funded, your matches reshuffle automatically You also control your visibility, go public and let talent find you, or stay private and let the AI work quietly on your behalf. Why we built this This platform exists because of a project that never got finished. I had an idea I wa

Instead of writing long build logs or recording traditional vlogs, my co-founder and I wanted to try something different. We're documenting our startup journey by turning it into an AI-generated anime series. Not for fiction. For real startup moments. Episode 2 follows our cold outreach journey: Finding an ICP Testing different niches Sending DMs Getting ignored Learning what works (and what doesn't) We're treating this as an experiment to see whether AI-generated storytelling can make the process of building a startup more engaging than the usual "build in public" content. The goal isn't perfect animation. It's authentic documentation—with AI as the creative medium. We're still figuring it out, improving every episode, and learning as we go. Would love to hear what fellow builders and developers think about this approach. Could AI-powered anime become a new way to document products, startups, and open-source projects? Feedback is always welcome. 🚀

I built CreditMeter, a small Windows tray app that shows GitHub Copilot AI-credit usage like a taxi meter. Why I built it Agentic coding makes AI usage feel invisible until you look at the bill. Constraints no WinForms no WPF no backend no telemetry no dependency-heavy architecture Tech stack C# / .NET 9 Native AOT raw Win32 / PInvoke GitHub REST API DPAPI for local PAT storage What I learned For tiny tools, architecture is also about knowing what not to add. Repo https://github.com/cdilorenzo/CreditMeter

This is a submission for Weekend Challenge: Passion Edition What I Built Loyalty Ledger —...

AI is not a smarter Google I am convinced most people are using AI in the worst possible way. They treat it like a slightly magical search bar. Type question. Get answer. Copy. Paste. Forget. I think that mindset is holding a lot of people back. Developers. Designers. Knowledge workers. Even my baseball kids who ask ChatGPT for homework help. AI is not a better Q&A machine. It is a delegation machine. You do not "ask" AI. You give it a job. This post is me making that shift concrete. I just shipped six AI gallery pages on my site, built entirely around that idea. Not as a gimmick. As infrastructure for how I work, learn, and build. Why I stopped asking AI questions The turning point was basically frustration. My workflow looked like this for months: Open ChatGPT Ask something like "How do I X in Astro / Svelte / Next" Skim the answer Try the snippet Debug for 30 minutes anyway The answers were fine. Sometimes even useful. But nothing stuck. I would ask the same class of questions over and over. Same concepts. Same patterns. Same gotchas. No real accumulation of knowledge. Just one-off transactions. Then I noticed something: the few times I actually got huge value from AI, I was not asking. I was delegating. "Rebuild this layout using CSS grid, but keep these class names." "Refactor this component, keep the same API, and annotate the performance tradeoffs in comments." "Act like my annoying senior engineer and poke holes in this data model." That felt different. Less like search. More like a teammate who does legwork while I keep steering. Delegation > questions So I made a decision: treat AI like a junior colleague with unlimited patience and questionable taste. That means: I do not ask "How do I do X". I say "You are responsible for X. Here is context. Here are constraints. Here is the definition of done." The shift sounds subtle. It is not. When you ask a question, the model guesses what you want. When you delegate a job, you tell it what you want and where it fit