Pedal Electric H/T Review: A Fast, Powerful, Stylish Ebike
The pedal-assist can be jerky, but the throttle offers smooth, powerful acceleration.
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The pedal-assist can be jerky, but the throttle offers smooth, powerful acceleration.
Saturday morning. I opened Twitter and saw a tweet about the Laravel-Lang packages being compromised. My first reaction was simple: "I don't use that package." Then I opened composer.json on a project I work on and found this in require-dev : "laravel-lang/lang" : "^14.8" , "laravel-lang/publisher" : "^16.8" , That changed things. What Actually Happened The attack used laravel-lang packages as the distribution channel. And the sneaky part: the main repository branch looked completely clean. No suspicious commits, no new code. The malicious payload was pushed via git tags on forks . Most developers would not notice anything. Just a routine composer update , same as always. Once installed, the payload executed at autoload time . That means every php artisan command, queue worker, or web request running that codebase triggered the malware the moment PHP hit require_once __DIR__.'/../vendor/autoload.php' in public/index.php . Silently. No error, no red screen, nothing. The malware was a credential stealer. It searched the machine for: .env files from Laravel projects AWS access keys and session tokens SSH private keys GitHub CLI tokens NPM tokens Infrastructure secrets This is not a SQL injection that messes with your database rows. This is a key stealer that runs on your machine and takes everything it finds. Aikido Security caught it and reported it to Packagist. Packagist removed the affected versions. But if you ran composer update during that window, you were exposed. Why Supply Chain Attacks Are Different Classic Laravel security talks about SQL injection, XSS, CSRF. Those are attacks that come from outside users sending malicious input to your application. Supply chain attacks come from inside your own development process. The attacker does not need to find a vulnerability in your code. They need to compromise one developer account at one package maintainer. Every project depending on that package is now exposed. With AI tools, these attacks are getting more soph
Every developer I know has built something for themselves. A productivity tool. A habit tracker. A personal finance app. An AI that makes them smarter, faster, calmer. I did the same thing for 2 years. Then I had a conversation with someone close to me that I completely mishandled — and I realised no amount of personal productivity tools would have helped me there. The problem wasn't me, individually. The problem was the space between us. So I started asking a weird question Why has all of AI been built for individuals? Copilot helps you code faster. ChatGPT makes you smarter. Notion AI organises your thoughts. Calm helps you sleep better. Not one of them is built for what happens when two people try to understand each other. That's a massive gap. And it's one I couldn't stop thinking about. What I built Mendle — an AI-powered Relationship Intelligence platform. Not a therapy app. Not a chatbot companion. Not another journaling tool with an AI skin on top. The core idea is **shared emotional memory. Most relationship apps are built around one person's perspective. You log your feelings. You get insights. Your partner is an afterthought in the architecture. Mendle is different at the data model level. Both people contribute. Both people benefit. The AI builds an understanding of the relationship not just an individual. Over time it surfaces patterns. Communication loops. Emotional triggers. The things you keep missing because you're too close to them. The technical challenge that surprised me Building AI for two people is fundamentally harder than building it for one. Single-user AI: one context window, one set of preferences, one voice to understand. Relationship AI: two different communication styles, two different emotional vocabularies, shared history that neither person has complete visibility into, and privacy boundaries that have to be respected even between partners. The shared memory architecture was the hardest part to get right. How do you build something
The company has set aside an unusually high number of shares for retail investors. Still, experts say, you’re just getting the crumbs.
David Stein shares how to rethink large-scale architectural migrations using AI. He discusses ServiceTitan's "assembly line" pattern, explaining how decomposing legacy codebase refactoring into standardized tasks can achieve massive parallelization. He highlights the critical role of programmatically rigid validation loops to eliminate LLM hallucinations and accelerate engineering agility. By David Stein
Originally published on the Prufa blog . In June 2026 we pointed Prufa's free audit at 50 products that had just launched on Show HN — every launch from the previous 30 days that earned at least 10 points. These are products at their moment of maximum attention: front page, real traffic, founders watching the comments. The headline numbers, from the 49 audits that completed (one site couldn't be reached by our runner): 100% of the 49 launches had at least one machine-verified finding. 78% — 38 of 49 — had at least one critical finding. 40 critical and 61 warning findings in total, every one verified by deterministic checks against captured browser evidence. No site is named in this post. The point isn't to embarrass anyone — it's that these failures are systematic, and if these teams have them on launch day, you probably do too. Methodology, briefly Each site got the same audit a free Prufa run does: a real browser loads the public pages, captures network traffic, console output, cookies, and response codes, and a fixed suite of deterministic checks grades the evidence. Same input, same verdict. Every number below is from a code-verified check — no LLM opinions are counted anywhere in this data. One honest caveat: our export keeps only the top findings per site, so the per-issue counts below are floors , not totals. The real numbers are equal or worse. What actually breaks at website launch: the numbers Sites affected (of 49) Finding Severity 38 No analytics events detected critical 24 No canonical link on entry page info 22 Cookies set without the Secure attribute warning 14 Broken links warning 12 No <h1> heading on entry page info 11 No robots.txt info 10 JavaScript console errors during page load warning 10 Missing meta description warning 8 Images missing alt text info 7 Missing Open Graph tags info 3 Tag container loads, but no analytics events fire warning 2 Canonical URL pointing to a different host critical The most common launch bug: analytics that record
Most of today went into a user-management overhaul in kickoff — my Laravel starter kit. Flyout CRUD panels, bulk actions, permission assignment, and the piece I want to talk about: account status . Active, suspended, unverified, deleted. The interesting part isn't the feature. It's the modelling decision underneath it. Where do those four states actually live ? The trap: a status column The obvious move is a status enum column on users . Set it to suspended when you suspend someone, active when you reinstate, unverified until they verify their email, deleted when they're soft-deleted. It works. Until it doesn't. Now you've got a status column and an email_verified_at column and a deleted_at from soft deletes — and all three encode overlapping truths. Soft-delete a user and forget to flip status ? Now your database says the account is both active and trashed. Verify an email but the status update fails mid-request? Drift. Every place that mutates a user becomes a place that has to remember to keep status in sync. That's not a feature, that's a maintenance tax. The signals already exist. email_verified_at tells you verified-or-not. deleted_at (soft deletes) tells you removed-or-not. The only genuinely new state is suspended — an admin deliberately blocking sign-in. So that's the only thing worth storing. What we actually store: one nullable timestamp Schema :: table ( 'users' , function ( Blueprint $table ) { $table -> timestamp ( 'suspended_at' ) -> nullable () -> after ( 'email_verified_at' ); }); That's the whole migration. Not a boolean is_suspended — a nullable timestamp. Null means not suspended; a value means suspended and tells you when. A boolean throws that second fact away for free; the timestamp keeps it at no extra cost. Same instinct as email_verified_at and deleted_at — Laravel models "did this happen, and when" as a nullable timestamp everywhere, so we follow the grain of the framework. The behaviour on the model stays tiny: public function isSuspended
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In this podcast, Shane Hastie, Lead Editor for Culture & Methods spoke to Craig McLuckie, co-creator of Kubernetes and CEO of Stacklok, about the impact of AI coding tools on open source communities and engineering teams, designing deliberate organisational culture, and navigating evolving career paths for engineers in the age of AI. By Craig McLuckie
Earlier this week, Life Biosciences, a biotech company focused on reversing age-related diseases, announced that it had dosed its first volunteer. A person with glaucoma has had an experimental treatment injected straight into their eyeball. The idea is to try to treat the disease—which can cause vision loss—by regenerating healthy nerves in the eye. But…
I run a content site, do-and-coffee.com . Like everyone else, it gets scraped by AI crawlers. Instead of blocking them, I did something else: I put a paywall in front of the site that returns HTTP 402 Payment Required to bots, with machine-readable payment instructions. If a crawler pays a cent in USDC, it gets the article. If it doesn't, it gets the 402 and nothing else. Then I let it run for 30 days and watched. Here's what actually happened — and it's not the number you'd put on a pitch deck. TL;DR A Cloudflare Worker sits in front of the site. AI crawlers get 402 + x402 payment requirements ; humans and search bots pass through free. Payment is USDC on Base , $0.01 per article, verified and settled through Coinbase's CDP facilitator. 30-day result: 5,811 crawler requests, 5 paid, 5,806 served a 402. Revenue at $0.01/article ≈ $0.05 . The interesting part isn't the revenue. It's who paid: GPTBot paid 4 times out of 48 requests; ClaudeBot paid once out of 651. Architecture do-and-coffee.com/blog/article/* ─▶ x402 Worker (Cloudflare) │ has X-PAYMENT-RESPONSE? ───────────┤─▶ yes ─▶ proxy origin (200) KV cache hit (payer:url)? ─────────┤─▶ yes ─▶ proxy origin (200) no X-PAYMENT? ─────────────────────┤─▶ 402 + payment requirements has X-PAYMENT? ────────────────────┘ │ ├─▶ CDP /verify (is the signed payment valid?) ├─▶ CDP /settle (waitUntil: confirmed — on-chain) └─▶ on success: KV.put(payer:url, receipt, ttl 24h) ─▶ proxy origin The worker speaks the x402 protocol: a 402 response carries an accepts array describing exactly how to pay (scheme exact , network base , asset USDC, amount, payTo wallet). A compliant agent reads that, signs a USDC payment, and retries with an X-PAYMENT header. The worker verifies and settles it through Coinbase's facilitator, then proxies the real article. How it works The 402 response When there's no payment, the worker builds the requirements and returns 402: function buildPaymentRequirements ( resourceUrl : string , env : Env ): Payment
Floating-point addition isn't associative. For a corporate inventory with tens of thousands of rows, naive summation drifts — and the number you disclose depends on row order. Here's why, and the fix. Here's a result that should bother anyone building carbon software. Take a corporate emissions inventory — tens of thousands of line items, each a number in tonnes CO₂e. Sum it. Now sort the same rows differently and sum again. The totals don't match. Not by much — maybe the third or fourth decimal place — but they don't match, and nothing in your code changed except the order. If you've never seen this, open a console: 0.1 + 0.2 === 0.3 // false That's the same bug, scaled up to a reporting deliverable. Why order changes the answer IEEE 754 doubles have 52 bits of mantissa. That's about 15–16 significant decimal digits of precision — generous, until you add numbers of very different magnitudes. When you add a small number to a large running total, the small number gets shifted right to line up the exponents before the addition happens. Bits that fall off the end of the mantissa are gone. Add a 0.0001 tCO₂e line to a running total of 80000.0 and there simply aren't enough mantissa bits to hold both the 80,000 and the 0.0001 — the small value is partially or completely swallowed. Float addition, as a result, isn't associative. (a + b) + c is not guaranteed to equal a + (b + c) . Sum your rows largest-first and the small values vanish early against a big accumulator. Sum smallest-first and they accumulate into something large enough to survive. Same data, different total. Here's the effect, deliberately constructed to be visible: const big = 80000 ; const smalls = Array ( 50000 ). fill ( 0.0001 ); // small values first, then the big one let a = 0 ; for ( const x of [... smalls , big ]) a += x ; // big value first, then the smalls let b = 0 ; for ( const x of [ big , ... smalls ]) b += x ; console . log ( a ); // 80004.99999999... console . log ( b ); // 80004.99999999...
There's a quiet lie rotting at the heart of modern software development, and almost nobody wants to say it out loud: the industry is drowning in people who can ace a LeetCode interview, argue endlessly about architectural patterns, and hold strong opinions about tabs versus spaces — but who have never actually shipped a product that real people use. We've built an entire culture around the performance of engineering rather than the practice of it. Walk into any dev team today and you'll find brilliant people who can recite the SOLID principles from memory, who have strong feelings about hexagonal architecture, and who will spend three weeks bikeshedding a folder structure — but who have never felt the particular anxiety of watching your own code process a real user's real money. Never felt that accountability. Never shipped something and then lived with the consequences. That's a problem! The industry has confused credentials and vocabulary with competence. A computer science degree, a GitHub profile full of tutorial clones, and the ability to reverse a linked list in a whiteboard setting are now routinely mistaken for the ability to build software that matters. They're not the same thing. The people who actually make software work — who ship under pressure, who fix production bugs at 11pm, who make pragmatic calls with incomplete information — often look terrible on paper. They'll choose a boring, proven technology over the shiny new thing. They'll skip the elegant abstraction in favour of something they can debug in a hurry. They understand that a running system that's 80% right beats a perfect system that's still in design. AI has made this worse. Now you can generate plausible-looking code, confidently-written documentation, and technically-accurate architecture diagrams without ever having built a system that stayed up under real load, without ever having migrated a production database at 2am, without ever having owned something from idea to invoice. Knowing ho
The idea of running a local LLM (Large Language Model) has always appealed to me, especially concerning data privacy and cost control. However, when I first delved into this, I realized through my own experiences how misleading market claims like "a few GB of RAM is enough" can be. In real-world scenarios, running a 70B parameter model with 8GB of VRAM is only possible with significant optimizations, which come with certain trade-offs. In this post, I will share my experiences, the problems I encountered, and the solutions I found, from hardware selection to optimization techniques for local LLMs. My goal is to offer a concrete, practical, and "good enough" perspective to anyone interested in this field. As we begin, we must remember that VRAM is the most critical part of this equation. VRAM: The Heart of Local LLMs and Capacity Limits At the core of running an LLM locally is keeping the model's weights in the GPU's VRAM. As the model size grows, the amount of VRAM it needs naturally increases. For example, a 7 billion parameter (7B) model in 16-bit float (FP16) format requires about 14GB of VRAM, while a 70B parameter model can demand up to 140GB. These values are far beyond the hardware owned by an average user. While working on AI-powered operations for my side product and a production planning model for a client project, I had the opportunity to experiment with models of different sizes. I clearly saw that there can sometimes be differences between theoretical VRAM requirements on paper and practical usage, especially as the context window grows. A 7B model, with a common quantization like Q4_K_M, can generally run with around 5-6GB of VRAM. However, for a 13B model, this value jumps to 8-10GB, and for a 70B model, it can soar to 40-50GB. This also varies depending on parameters like context window and batch size. 💡 VRAM Monitoring Tips You can monitor the real-time status of your GPU and VRAM with the nvidia-smi command. Using watch -n 1 nvidia-smi to update VR
I Built a Git Sync Tool for My Obsidian Vault You write notes, you save them, you forget to push to GitHub. Then your laptop dies, and your notes are gone. I built a single Bash script that automates the entire sync workflow, and it works with any Git repo. If you use Obsidian (or any plain-text note-taking system) and sync via Git, you know the drill: write notes, stage changes, commit, fetch, check status, pull, push. Every time. It's 6 repetitive commands that you will inevitably skip until disaster strikes. I got tired of this and built git-sync , a single Bash script that does everything in one go. What It Does git-sync is a terminal-based Git sync tool that: Auto-commits all changes with a timestamp Fetches remote state Detects divergence (ahead/behind) Shows you only the relevant sync options Executes your choice with safety guard rails How It Works Run it from inside any Git repo: ./git-sync Phase 1 - Auto-commit: Staged or unstaged changes are committed automatically with a message like "Last Sync: Jun-12 (Arch)" . The device name is configurable. Phase 2 - Fetch & Detect: It fetches from remote, counts how many commits ahead and behind you are, and categorises the state: ahead, behind, diverged, or in-sync. Phase 3 - Smart Menu: Only relevant options are shown: State Options Ahead only Upload, Sync, Force push, Cancel Behind only Download, Sync, Hard reset, Cancel Diverged All six options Phase 4 - Execute: The chosen action runs with a spinner and status messages. Destructive operations (force push, hard reset) require explicit confirmation. Why It's Useful for Notes Syncing Obsidian + Git is a powerful combo. Your notes are plain markdown, version-controlled, accessible from any device. The friction is the sync ritual. git-sync removes it. Multi-device workflows: I run this on my Arch desktop (DEVICE_NAME="Arch") and my work laptop (DEVICE_NAME="Laptop"). The auto-commit message tells me exactly which machine made each sync, so I can trace conflicts back
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Imagine you write a letter in a secret code that only your old house key can read. Then you move. You photocopy the coded letter, carry it to the new house… and realise the new key can't decode any of it. The letter is valid, just useless. That's effectively what happens when you back up encrypted values from a Laravel database and restore them onto a different server. I hit exactly this while working on laravel-config-backup today, so here's the problem and the fix. The real cause: Crypt is bound to APP_KEY When you store sensitive settings (think API tokens or OAuth secrets) in the database, you typically encrypt them with Crypt::encryptString() . Lovely — until you remember Crypt uses your app's APP_KEY as the key. A naive backup copies that ciphertext straight across: // Naive approach — move the ciphertext as-is $value = DB :: table ( 'settings' ) -> where ( 'key' , 'some.secret' ) -> value ( 'value' ); // this value is encrypted with the OLD server's APP_KEY The new server has a different APP_KEY . Try to decrypt → DecryptException: The payload is invalid . Your backup is technically complete but practically dead. The fix: decrypt on the way out, re-encrypt on the way in The decision is easy to state, hard to stay disciplined about: never carry ciphertext across a server boundary. Instead — On create : decrypt the values with the source server's APP_KEY , store plaintext inside the archive. Protect that archive with AES-256 and a password (a human-held secret, not the APP_KEY). On restore : re-encrypt the values with the destination server's APP_KEY before writing to the DB. Back to the analogy: you decode the letter, carry the plain letter in a locked briefcase (the password-protected archive), and re-encode it with the new house's lock on arrival. The briefcase handles security in transit — not the old code that's no longer relevant. I made that intent explicit right where the behaviour lives, in ConfigBackupService : /** * Config Backup & Restore. * * Bundl
Bundling an admin UI inside a Laravel package is a different game from building one in an app. The app's conveniences — a compiled Vite manifest, a registered layout, your own Livewire components — aren't there. Today, getting the bundled admin UI in laravel-config-webhook to actually render meant walking through four separate 500s. Each one is a small, sharp lesson about the boundary between a package and its host app. 1. A Livewire 4 component name can't contain :: I registered the component with a namespaced-looking name and got a ComponentNotFoundException at runtime. The cause is subtle: under Livewire 4, a name containing :: triggers namespace resolution that ignores singly-registered components. So a "nice looking" name silently routes to a lookup that will never find it. The fix is to register a plain, dotted name: // ❌ looks tidy, but the "::" sends Livewire down a namespace path Livewire :: component ( 'config-webhook::webhooks' , Webhooks :: class ); // ✅ a flat dotted name resolves to the singly-registered component Livewire :: component ( 'config-webhook.webhooks' , Webhooks :: class ); Lesson: in a package, treat the component name as an identifier with framework-reserved characters — :: is not yours to use. 2. Flux ships Heroicons, not Pro/Lucide names The free tier of Flux ships Heroicons . Reach for a Pro-only or Lucide-style name and it throws at runtime. I'd used webhook , ellipsis , and list ; the free equivalents are bolt , ellipsis-horizontal , and queue-list . This is the same trap that bit my SSO package — which is exactly why I now guard it with a static test that reads the Blade and checks every icon against Flux's actual stub files. (Separate post on that.) If you ship a package UI with Flux, assume free-tier icons only unless you require Pro. 3. Don't @vite host assets that don't exist The bundled fallback layout @vite -d the host app's assets. In a fresh consumer (or the package's own workbench) there's no compiled manifest, so you get a
There's a class of bug that's maddening: it passes every test you have, then crashes in the user's face. I hit one in the admin UI of laravel-config-sso today, and the real fix wasn't changing an icon name — it was writing a test that could see the bug in the first place. The bug: wrong icon name, crashes only at runtime The admin UI uses Flux . Flux resolves icons through <flux:delegate-component> , and it throws for a name that doesn't exist: Flux component [icon.ellipsis] does not exist. It's an easy mistake. Flux ships Heroicons , not Lucide. So your Lucide reflexes lie to you: You type (Lucide) Flux wants (Heroicon) ellipsis ellipsis-horizontal trash-2 trash eye-off eye-slash Why feature tests don't catch it Here's the interesting part. I had a feature test that hits the admin route and asserts 200. Green. But the real UI crashes. How? Because in the headless test harness, Flux renders icons as no-ops. No real <flux:delegate-component> boots, so the icon name never gets resolved. The crash only surfaces under a full boot ( testbench serve ) — exactly where your automated tests don't go. Analogy: it's like a spell-checker that only runs when you print the document, not while you type. Your tests type away happily. The crash waits at the printer. The fix: a static test that reads the Blade and validates every icon Instead of relying on runtime, I wrote a Pest test that reads the Blade view, extracts every icon name (static and inside dynamic expressions), and asserts Flux actually ships a stub for each one: $fluxIconStubs = base_path ( 'vendor/livewire/flux/stubs/resources/views/flux/icon' ); it ( 'only references Flux icons that exist' , function () use ( $fluxIconStubs ) { expect ( is_dir ( $fluxIconStubs )) -> toBeTrue ( "Flux icon stubs not found" ); $view = file_get_contents ( __DIR__ . '/../../resources/views/livewire/sso-providers.blade.php' ); // Static `icon="name"` plus quoted tokens inside dynamic // `icon="{{ $cond ? 'eye-slash' : 'eye' }}"` expressio