标签：#AR

A device that resets in the field is not always the hardest problem. The harder problem is a device that resets, comes back online, and leaves no evidence about what happened before the reboot. That is where a firmware black box becomes useful. This is the DEV.to edition of a Silicon LogiX technical article. The canonical English source is linked at the end. What a firmware black box is A firmware black box is a small diagnostic subsystem inside the firmware. Its job is to preserve enough information to support post-mortem analysis after a reset, watchdog event, HardFault, panic or unexpected reboot. It does not need to record everything. It needs to record the data that helps answer the first diagnostic questions: why did the device reset? how long had it been running? which firmware build was installed? what state was the application in? which task was active? did the watchdog fire? did memory, stack or heap margins collapse? did the network, modem, BLE, Wi-Fi or OTA flow fail just before the reboot? Without that data, every field reset deletes most of the evidence. Why sporadic resets are expensive Rare embedded bugs are often more expensive than obvious failures. A crash that happens every time in the same function can usually be analyzed with a debugger, logs and a repeatable test. A reset that appears once every ten days on a customer device is different. The cause may depend on a combination of: temperature unstable power brown-out cable length enclosure heating network drops modem state memory fragmentation stack exhaustion long uptime race conditions a peripheral that stops responding an OTA edge case In the lab, the product may look clean. In the field, the environment changes. The customer report often becomes: "it rebooted", "it stopped communicating", or "we had to power-cycle it". That is not enough for firmware diagnosis. What to capture A good first version does not need to be large. Start with a compact structure that survives the next boot: reset r

AWS launched Lambda MicroVMs, a new serverless compute primitive that runs each user session or AI agent in its own Firecracker virtual machine with hardware-level isolation, snapshot-based rapid launch, and state preservation for up to eight hours. Reddit community analysis found the minimum setup costs $3.03/day, roughly 9x Fargate spot pricing. By Steef-Jan Wiggers

Event-driven architecture promises scalability, but in Java-based real-time systems the tradeoffs only surface in production. Drawing on a Java/Kafka contact center platform handling 80k BHCC across 10k agents, this article details where the design breaks down—state management, partition limits, deduplication, JVM tuning, cascading consumer failures—and the Redis-backed patterns that fixed each. By Sagar Deepak Joshi

A few months ago I was applying for jobs and stumbled across Jobscan. It looked exactly what I needed — paste your resume, paste the job description, see how well you match. Then I saw the price. $49.95/month. As a student, that's a week of groceries. I closed the tab. But the problem didn't go away. I kept wondering — why is my resume getting rejected before a human even reads it? ATS systems are filtering people out and nobody tells you why. So I built ClearScan. What it does: Scans your resume against a job description. Shows exactly which keywords you're missing. Checks ATS compatibility across 5 platforms (Workday, Taleo, Greenhouse, Lever, iCIMS). Scores your bullet points using STAR format analysis. Gives you a transparent breakdown — you can see why you got the score you did. That last part matters to me a lot. Most tools just give you a number. ClearScan shows you the math. Where it stands: Launched today. First paying customers already. Free tier gives you 2 scans/month — enough to feel the product before deciding. Pricing starts at €3.99/month. Built for students, priced for students. Live at clearscan.fyi — would genuinely love your feedback, especially from developers who've dealt with ATS hell themselves.

Every engineer has fantasized about it: starting over. Throwing out the old system and building something clean. No legacy constraints. No accumulated compromises. Just pure, intentional design. It never works that way. You can delete all the code. You can architect from scratch. You can make the best technical decisions possible. But you can't delete the organizational memory. You can't unlearn what the last system taught you. You can't escape the patterns that already run through the business, the workflows people have shaped themselves around, the problems you've already paid the cost of understanding. The new system will look clean. But it will be haunted. What rewrites actually inherit A rewrite isn't a fresh start. It's archaeology pretending to be innovation. The constraints don't go away. The old system wasn't overcomplicated because engineers were bad. It was overcomplicated because of customer requirements, regulatory expectations, performance demands, and edge cases that took years to discover. A fresh rewrite finds all those edge cases again. Slower this time, because you don't have documentation—you have broken customers and escalations. The system gets layers of protection again, but now it looks like paranoia instead of learned caution. The organizational memory becomes invisible. Someone fought for that data model three years ago. There was a reason. A business rule that couldn't be violated. A data consistency requirement that cost a quarter to figure out. The new system doesn't have the battle scars that explain why things are the way they are. So they get rebuilt differently, until they hit the same requirement at 2am on a Saturday. The workflow is already baked in. Users have shaped their behavior around the old system. Sales has built their pitch around certain capabilities. Support has written documentation and runbooks. Customers have automation that depends on specific behaviors. The new system is technically cleaner, but it forces change on

Traditional content pages are often designed for a linear reader. The introduction sets context, the middle develops the idea, and the conclusion ties everything together. AI retrieval does not always work that way. A system may identify smaller content units, pull the most relevant section, compare it with other sources, and use that fragment to support an answer. The full page still matters, but the retrievable blocks inside the page matter just as much. A useful Tumblr post explains the idea in simple terms: https://www.tumblr.com/digitalisedsoul/820825642809573376/ai-does-not-read-your-content-like-a-human?source=share For Dev Community readers, the pattern is familiar. Poorly structured inputs lead to weaker outputs. If content is dense, vague, or dependent on surrounding paragraphs, it becomes harder to extract and reuse. If content is modular, clear, and properly scoped, retrieval becomes easier. Marketing teams can learn a lot from this. A strong content page should behave like a set of well labelled components. Each section should answer a specific question. Headings should be descriptive, not decorative. Paragraphs should avoid vague references such as the above point or this approach when the section may be read independently. Definitions should appear close to the terms they explain. Examples should include enough context to stand alone. Proof should be written as text, not only displayed as graphics. Internal links should connect related concepts in a way that helps both readers and systems understand the topic map. A page about AI search visibility, for example, should not only include one broad explanation. It should break the topic into useful blocks: what AI visibility means, why AI systems retrieve passages, how source trust works, what makes content reusable, and how brands should measure answer presence. Each block becomes a possible answer unit. That structure does not weaken the reader experience. It improves it. Developers, marketers, and busi

Modern web application architectures typically run each layer in its own process, like a NodeJS server and database both running in their own processes. They communicate via a network connection or localhost socket. This separation introduces protocol overheads, TCP stack latency, and data serialization/deserialization costs on every single query. Planck is designed around the concept of Zero-Distance Architecture that co-locates data and application code. It combines the database engine and a WebAssembly application runtime into a single, unified process. By running your application code directly inside the database process, database calls become direct in-memory function calls rather than network round-trips. This article provides a practical guide to getting started with Planck. We will look at the core toolchain, walk through setting up a self-contained local benchmark, compare its performance against a NodeJS, ExpressJS, MongoDB stack, and look at how to build more complex features. The Toolchain: Planck, planctl, and Workbench Running and managing a zero-distance app requires three main components. Planck itself is the core binary. It functions as both the storage engine (a WiscKey-style, LSM-tree-based engine) and the WebAssembly host. Instead of running a database in one process and your application server in another, you run a single Planck process. It loads your compiled WebAssembly application directly into its memory, running it in the same process space as the database. To manage this runtime, you use planctl. This is the command-line tool for developers. It handles the compilation of your code, packages it, and deploys it to the Planck host. It also allows you to perform database operations, like creating stores and defining indexes, export/import, backup/restore directly from your terminal. Finally, there is the Workbench. This is a web console that comes built into the platform. It provides a visual dashboard to monitor your applications, view databa

The second word a professor told me to carry for life. It took me years — and a lot of vectors — to start understanding it. A look back — long before any of the tools we argue about now. The same professor — Sang Lyul Min — handed us these words one at a time in lecture. After trade-off , two more stuck with me. But before the second word itself, here are the two pieces of news he brought to class around then. The internet barely existed; information moved through journals, magazines, and word of mouth. Looking back, it's a little amazing how much still got through. When a chess machine started winning The first breakthrough I remember: computers had finally started playing chess on roughly even terms with the world's best. Deep Blue beat Kasparov around 1996, so the machines he was describing came just before — names like Deep Thought, ChessMachine, Socrates II. He told us, deadpan, that one human competitor's head had "physically burst" from the strain — and we groaned, "Come on, Professor, that's a bit much." We live on the far side of AlphaGo now, so it's easy to forget how much we shrugged at all this back then. I was a decent amateur — a 1-dan at Go, hopeless at janggi (Korean chess) against any program — and I still remember the hollow, slightly bitter feeling the AlphaGo era left even in someone who only ever played for fun. A full-body scan The second: in the US, death-row inmates had consented to the first dense full-body image scans. That was the news that taught me — embarrassingly late — that this kind of computing could reach all the way into medicine. Computers, it turned out, showed up in the strangest places. orthogonal Back to the words. The second one, the professor said, would run through my whole career: orthogonal . The Korean rendering — 직교하는, "at right angles" — was, naturally, a word I'd never heard. The plain-language version was "unrelated, independent." It came back hard years later, when I had to take vectors seriously — first in linear

i did something dumb last month. on purpose. i sat down, opened a next.js app, and tried to make hydration fail in every way i could think of. not because a bug forced me to. not because i was debugging something. just because i wanted to see it. understand it from the inside. and honestly? best few hours i've spent learning anything in a while. why i even did this you know how you use something for months and you think you get it, but you don't really get it? hydration was that for me. i knew the surface-level thing: server renders HTML, client takes over, they gotta match. cool. got it. moving on. except i didn't get it. i just got the vibe of it. every time i saw hydration mismatch, i'd ask claude, fix the immediate thing, feel vaguely annoyed, and move on. i never stopped to ask why that specific thing broke it. i was treating symptoms, not understanding the actual disease. so i decided to break it deliberately. if i caused the errors myself, i'd actually have to understand what i was doing. the setup basic next.js app. app router. a few pages. nothing fancy. i wasn't trying to build anything. i was trying to destroy something, carefully, so i could see what fell apart and why. break #1: the obvious one - new Date() on render this is the classic. everyone's seen it. export default function Page () { return < div > { new Date (). toLocaleString () } </ div > } server renders this at, say, 14:00:00. by the time react runs on the client and tries to reconcile, it's 14:00:01. the strings don't match. react screams. thing is, i knew this would happen. what i didn't think about was why react cares. here's the thing: react isn't doing a full diff on the entire DOM after hydration. it's trusting that the server HTML is a valid starting point and it's just attaching event listeners and state to it. but if the content doesn't match, it doesn't know what to trust. it can't partially hydrate "mostly correct" HTML. it either matches or it doesn't. so it throws the warning, a

I corrected my AI system mid-task. A terse one-liner: "wrong." Instead of asking which part was wrong, it manufactured an explanation. It cited a rule number that didn't exist, described a limitation I'd never written, and apologized for a mistake it couldn't actually identify. The correction was real. The apology was fabricated. It was trying to agree with me so hard that it invented evidence to support the agreement. That's sycophancy in AI. And if you're running AI in anything that resembles production, it's already happening to you. What Is Sycophancy in AI? Sycophancy in AI is a systematic behavioral distortion where models produce outputs that match what the user wants to hear rather than what's accurate. It goes well beyond your chatbot saying "Great question!" before every response. The mechanism is straightforward. Modern language models are trained using Reinforcement Learning from Human Feedback (RLHF). Human evaluators rate model responses. Responses with higher ratings get reinforced. The problem: evaluators are human. They rate responses higher when those responses validate their existing beliefs, sound confident, and don't push back. Anthropic's research on sycophancy confirmed this across five state-of-the-art AI assistants, finding that both humans and preference models sometimes prefer convincingly written sycophantic responses over correct ones. The model learns a simple lesson. Agreeing is rewarded. Disagreeing is punished. Over thousands of training iterations, the model develops a tendency to mirror the user's position, soften objections, and present information in whatever framing the user seems to prefer. This is a structural incentive baked into the training process itself, not a bug in any individual model. Why It's More Than Annoying In a chatbot demo, sycophancy is a quirk. In production, it's a compounding failure mode. Here are four patterns I've observed running an AI operations system in daily production. They don't always happen in s

I have been writing a lot about AI lately, but this one is more personal than usual. Not a tutorial,...

AI เขียนโค้ดแทนเราได้แล้ว — แล้วเราจะเหลืออะไรให้ทำ? มีประโยคที่ได้ยินบ่อยขึ้นทุกวัน: "เดี๋ยวนี้ใครยังไม่ใช้ AI ช่วยเขียนโค้ดบ้าง?" คำตอบคือ — แทบไม่มีแล้วครับ ตั้งแต่ GitHub Copilot, Cursor, Claude, ChatGPT ไปจนถึง agent ที่เขียนโค้ดเองได้ทั้ง project — เราใช้ AI ใน level ที่ต่างกัน: Level หน้าตา ตัวอย่าง 🎵 Vibe Coding พิมพ์สิ่งที่อยากได้ กด accept อย่างเดียว "เขียนหน้า login ให้หน่อย" → กด tab tab tab 🧩 Prompt-Guided คิดก่อน ถามทีละส่วน ตรวจทุกอย่าง "สร้าง UserService ที่ใช้ bcrypt hash password" 🛠️ Skill/Lint-Guided ใช้ AI เป็น editor ชั้นสูง — lint, refactor, test "refactor function นี้ให้เป็น table-driven test" 🏗️ Agent-Based ให้ AI run ทั้ง project — spawn subagent, PR, deploy "พอร์ต microservice นี้จาก Express ไป Fastify" แล้วคำถามคือ — ถ้า AI ทำทั้งหมดนี้ได้ แล้วมนุษย์อย่างเราเหลืออะไร? Unit Test — ตัวอย่างที่เห็นชัดที่สุด ลองดู unit test ที่ AI เขียนให้: // 🤖 AI-generated test func TestCalculateDiscount ( t * testing . T ) { tests := [] struct { name string input float64 expected float64 }{ { "zero" , 0 , 0 }, { "normal" , 100 , 90 }, // 10% discount { "max" , 1000 , 800 }, // 20% discount } for _ , tt := range tests { t . Run ( tt . name , func ( t * testing . T ) { result := CalculateDiscount ( tt . input ) if result != tt . expected { t . Errorf ( "got %v, want %v" , result , tt . expected ) } }) } } ดูเผิน ๆ — สวย, table-driven, ถูกต้องตาม Go convention 1 แต่ถามหน่อย — test นี้บอกอะไรเกี่ยวกับ business? "ส่วนลด 10% สำหรับยอด 100 บาท" — ทำไมต้อง 100? เป็นกฎจากที่ไหน? "ส่วนลด 20% เมื่อยอดถึง 1000" — แล้วถ้าลูกค้าเป็น member ได้เพิ่มอีก 5% ล่ะ? input: 0, expected: 0 — test นี้ cover edge case หรือแค่ cover บรรทัด? AI test ได้ถูกต้องตาม function — แต่มัน ไม่รู้ว่า business จริง ๆ คืออะไร AI ไม่รู้ Business Context — และจะไม่มีวันรู้ นึกภาพระบบ e-commerce: ลูกค้าซื้อสินค้า → ระบบตัดสต็อก → คำนวณส่วนลด → คิดค่าส่ง → ออกใบเสร็จ AI แยก test ทีละ function ได้: ✅ TestDeductStock — "ตัดสต็อก 1 ชิ้น" ✅ TestCalculateDiscount — "ส่วนลด 10%" ✅ TestCalculateShipping —

🚀 Build Your First Space Shooter Game with Limn Engine A Complete Step-by-Step Tutorial for JavaScript Beginners Welcome! In this tutorial, you'll build a complete space shooter game using Limn Engine — a zero‑configuration 2D game engine that runs in your browser. What you'll build: A spaceship that moves, shoots bullets, fights waves of enemies, and keeps score. All in about 100 lines of code . By the end, you'll understand: How to create a game loop How to handle keyboard input How to detect collisions How to use particles for visual effects How to manage game state (lives, score, game over) 🎮 Want to play the finished game? Click here to play Space Shooter Live! Before We Start What You Need A text editor (VS Code, Notepad, or any code editor) A web browser (Chrome, Firefox, Edge) Limn Engine — download epic.js from limn-engine-doc.vercel.app What You Should Know Basic JavaScript (variables, functions, arrays, if-statements) How to open an HTML file in a browser No game development experience required! Step 1: The HTML Structure Every Limn Engine game starts with a simple HTML file. <!doctype html> <html> <head> <script src= "asset/epic.js" ></script> </head> <body> <script> // All your game code goes here </script> </body> </html> What's happening: <script src="asset/epic.js"> — loads the Limn Engine library Everything inside the second <script> tag is your game code Save this as game.html and open it in your browser. You should see a blank canvas with a blue gradient background. Step 2: Setting Up the Game The first thing we need is a Display — this is the engine that creates the canvas, runs the game loop, and handles input. const display = new Display (); display . perform (); // Activates performance mode (dual-canvas rendering) display . start ( 800 , 600 ); // Creates an 800×600 canvas What's happening: new Display() — creates the engine display.perform() — turns on high-performance mode display.start(800, 600) — creates a canvas 800 pixels wide and 600 p

TL;DR A multi-tenant app was resolving the active tenant from the request (subdomain/header) instead of the authenticated user . That makes the client the source of truth for "which tenant am I" — the wrong place for it. Fix: derive the tenant from the user's organization membership, enforce it in middleware, and fail closed. One test locks the behaviour. The bug, in one sentence The request was telling the app which tenant to load, and the app believed it. In a multi-tenant SaaS, every query is implicitly scoped: "give me this tenant's dashboards." If the tenant ID comes from something the client controls — a subdomain, a header, a route param — then the scoping is only as trustworthy as the client. That's a leak waiting to happen. Where the trust should live Think of it like a building pass. The request is someone saying "I'm here for floor 9." The membership record is the pass that says which floors you're actually allowed on. You check the pass, not the claim. Before After Source of truth request (subdomain / header) user's organization membership Who decides the tenant the client the server Failure mode user can land in a tenant they don't belong to resolution fails closed Testable? hard — depends on request shape yes — depends on the user The shape of the fix Resolve the tenant from the authenticated user's organization, in one middleware, before anything tenant-scoped runs: final class SetTenantContext { public function handle ( Request $request , Closure $next ): Response { $org = $request -> user () ?-> currentOrganization (); // No org, no tenant context. Fail closed, never guess. abort_if ( $org === null , 403 , 'No organization context.' ); Tenancy :: setCurrent ( $org -> tenant ); // server-derived, not request-derived return $next ( $request ); } } The key line isn't the setCurrent() — it's that the value comes from $request->user() , not from $request . The user is authenticated; the subdomain is not. request ──> [auth] ──> [SetTenantContext] ──> tena

TL;DR A metrics engine had two query paths — a SQL push-down for big datasets, an in-memory aggregator for small ones. They drifted. The push-down path bound a metric parameter but never added it to the WHERE . With several metric series in one dataset, every query summed across all of them. A KPI that should read 819 read 163,667,603,769 . Fix: put the metric_key predicate in the shared base WHERE so every compile path inherits it, and regression-test both paths assert it. The setup: two paths, one contract A lot of analytics layers compute the same number two ways. For a big dataset you push the aggregation down to the database. For a small one — a preview, a draft dashboard — you pull the rows and aggregate in memory. Faster path, correct path. Both are supposed to return the same value. That's the contract. The dataset stores rows keyed by a metric_key , because one dataset can hold several series at once — say a plain row count and a count-distinct. Each series lives in the same table, told apart only by its key. The bug: a bound param is not a filter The in-memory aggregator filtered by metric_key correctly. The SQL compiler bound a metric parameter into the query... and never referenced it in the WHERE . With a single series in the dataset, it worked by accident — there was nothing else to sum. Add a second series and the math quietly breaks: the query sums across every series. In this case the second series stored hashed values around 1.9 billion each, so the KPI ballooned from 819 to 163 billion. Before After metric value bound, unused bound WHERE predicate (none on metric) metric_key = {metric:String} 1 series in dataset correct (by luck) correct N series in dataset sums across all isolated The lesson is small and easy to miss: binding a parameter only makes the value available — it does nothing until a predicate references it. When one path already returns sane-looking numbers, nobody goes looking. The real fix is parity, not a patch You could bolt the pr

TL;DR Two threads today: an organization layer on top of an existing multi-tenant app, and driver-based password-reset backends in an identity portal. Both came down to the same idea — put the source of truth in the right place, then test it. Multi-tenant app: an organization layer above tenancy The product already had tenancy. What it lacked was a human-friendly layer on top: organizations users actually belong to, can switch between, and manage. What landed: Area Change Org switcher A sidebar switcher to move between organizations you belong to Management Create/update org, invitations, ownership transfer Tenancy Resolve the active tenant from the user's org — closed a leak UI Dark-mode pass + responsive fixes across the org views Dashboards Richer per-widget configuration from the UI The standout is the tenancy fix: the active tenant was being resolved from the request instead of the authenticated user. I pulled that into its own focused post — "Resolve the tenant from the user, not the request." Short version: if a value scopes data, it can't come from something the client controls. Identity portal: make the reset backends swappable The password-reset flow needed to support more than one backend, and let an admin decide the order they run in. Classic case for a driver-based abstraction — a contract plus interchangeable drivers, picked at runtime from config. interface PasswordResetBackend { public function reset ( User $user , string $password ): void ; public function name (): string ; } Two optional backends came back as drivers behind that contract, and the run order is now admin-reorderable instead of hard-coded. Adding a third backend later is a new class + a config line — no touching the flow itself. The other half of the day was unglamorous but necessary: the test suite had drifted — stale tests for removed features, and env leakage between tests (one test's state bleeding into the next). Fixed the leakage, deleted the dead tests, and the suite is honest

TL;DR Centred a sidebar brand mark in the collapsed rail (open-source starter kit) — pure CSS, no JS. A CRM app got a "daily cockpit" dashboard (hot leads + overdue follow-ups) plus a full favicon/PWA icon set. An analytics product's ingest pipeline learned to handle messy uploads — files with no date column and no numeric measure — and a nasty metrics bug got squashed. A spread day across three repos. Quick tour. Centring a collapsed sidebar logo (CSS only) Kickoff , my open-source Laravel starter kit, had a small visual snag: when the sidebar collapses to a narrow rail, the header switches to a column — but the brand mark sat off-centre. The content area is ~72px, yet the logo kept its width and a leftover space-x margin, nudging it left of the nav icons. No JavaScript needed. Make the logo and toggle full-width, centre their content, and zero the leftover child margins when collapsed: [ data-flux-sidebar ][ data-collapsed ] .sidebar-header .app-logo { width : 100% ; justify-content : center ; padding-inline : 0 ; } /* kill the leftover space-x margin pushing it off-centre */ [ data-flux-sidebar ][ data-collapsed ] .sidebar-header .app-logo > * { margin : 0 ; } Lesson: when a flex container changes direction, old horizontal margins don't disappear — they just push things in the new axis. Tag the element, scope the override to the collapsed state, done. A CRM "daily cockpit" A CRM app I work on got a dashboard rebuild: instead of a generic landing screen, the first thing you see is what needs action today — hot leads and overdue follow-ups. The cockpit framing matters more than the widgets: surface the work, don't make people hunt for it. Also shipped a full favicon/PWA icon set and a branded responsive landing page, with feature tests so the brand pass didn't quietly break routing. Ingest that survives real-world files The bigger chunk of the day went into an analytics/dashboard product's ingest pipeline. Real uploads are messy, so the pipeline now copes with the

Introducing GeneBench-Pro, a new benchmark testing AI performance in genomics, biology, and scientific research using complex, real-world datasets.

This week's Java roundup for June 22nd, 2026, features news highlighting: the GA releases of Hardwood 1.0 and Endive 1.0; the June 2026 edition of Azul Payara; point releases of Quarkus, LangChain4j; the first beta release of WildFly 41; and introducing Eliya JDK and the Open Source Sustainability Initiative (OSSI), the latter of which was founded by HeroDevs and Commonhaus Foundation. By Michael Redlich

Starting in IT I started in IT at a local school in my small town in December 2024. It was my first job out of college after earning my B.S. in Cybersecurity. None of the infrastructure was updated. Everything was failing, and luckily, I had one other IT person there: my director. I honestly think he knew less than I did, and he would get frustrated at almost every ticket. Even then, I knew I wanted a role where I could code. Fast forward to more recently, he had a freak out and quit. Now we have a two-person team, and everything is finally up to date and functioning. Even with things improving, I still knew I wanted to move toward a SWE-type role. Learning to Code I first decided to learn C# for Unity. I was really into game dev while I was in college, so it felt like a natural place to start. I began with the Microsoft/freeCodeCamp C# certification, and I surprisingly really enjoyed it. I made a few small games on itch.io that no one cared about, but I had fun building them. After that, I went on a bit of a language-hopping spree. I jumped from C# to C++, then into full-stack web development. I actually stuck with web dev for a while and really enjoyed it. But this cycle went on for awhile of just constant swapping. Wannabe Founder Then something switched overnight. I went from writing maybe 0-5% AI-generated code to using AI for nearly everything. I started spam-building startup ideas that did not really go anywhere. I may have made around $2-3k from them, but most of the time I was just chasing money and building whatever I thought had the quickest path to making some. I got seriously addicted to vibe coding. I tried Codex, Cursor, Claude, and basically anything with AI in it. I did like Codex the most, though. Eventually, I realized I had almost completely stopped coding by hand. I was not passionate about the startup ideas I was building. I loved coding, and I knew I had to step back. Back to Coding Now I am back to coding without AI assistance. I will eventua