标签：#c

Heat pumps are more than just a way to keep your home comfortable without using fossil fuels.

The gate between your AI agents and the real world Discussion | Link

👋 Hey there, Tech Enthusiasts! I'm Sarvar, a Cloud Architect who loves turning complex tech problems...

Decode sentences directly from non-invasive brain signals Discussion | Link

I have been working on Glaze , a small desktop WebView toolkit for Go. The short version: Glaze lets a Go program open a native desktop window backed by the WebView already available on the operating system, without using CGo. It currently targets: macOS, through WKWebView Linux, through WebKitGTK Windows, through WebView2 The project is still young, but the core idea is already useful: keep small Go desktop tools close to the normal Go workflow. No C compiler in the build path. No bundled native helper library. No large application framework around it. Just Go code calling the system WebView. Why I wanted this I write a lot of small tools in Go. Some of them are fine as CLI programs. Others need a basic interface: a form, a preview, a local dashboard, a small editor, or a way to inspect and manipulate data visually. For those cases, HTML is often enough. The browser gives me layout, text rendering, forms, tables, keyboard handling, and a familiar debugging model. But I do not always want to ship a web server as the user interface. I also do not always want to pull in a large desktop framework when all I need is a native window around a local UI. A WebView is a reasonable middle ground. The problem is that many WebView solutions eventually bring CGo, native build tooling, helper libraries, or larger framework assumptions into the project. That is not necessarily wrong. For many applications, those trade-offs are acceptable. For this project, I wanted something narrower. The design constraint The main constraint behind Glaze is simple: Use the WebView already provided by the OS, but call it from Go without CGo. Glaze uses purego to call native platform APIs directly from Go. That means each backend talks to the platform WebView: WKWebView on macOS WebKitGTK on Linux WebView2 on Windows The result is not a full GUI toolkit. That is intentional. Glaze is focused on the window, the WebView, JavaScript-to-Go bindings, and a few desktop helpers that are useful for small t

Build with coding agents from anywhere Discussion | Link

Build with coding agents from anywhere Discussion | Link

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

IndexCache: Killing the Indexer's O(NL²) Bottleneck in DeepSeek Sparse Attention Notes from my notebook on GLM-5.2 / DeepSeek Sparse Attention (DSA), reconstructed from the IndexCache paper (Bai, Dong et al., Tsinghua + Z.ai, 2026) — the mechanism behind GLM-5.2's "IndexShare." 1. Why this exists — the bottleneck nobody talks about DSA's whole pitch is: don't do full O(L²) attention, instead let a cheap lightning indexer look at all preceding tokens and pick the top-k (k=2048) that actually matter, then do real attention only on those. That drops core attention from O(L²) → O(Lk). Great — except I missed this the first time I read DSA: the indexer itself is still O(L²) . It has to score every preceding token against the query to decide who's in the top-k. So across N layers you've traded one O(L²) cost for N separate O(L²) costs — total O(NL²). At long context this indexer becomes the dominant cost, not the attention it was supposed to fix. Adding the indexer is "DSA on steroids" because it kills DSA's one real bottleneck (full attention) — but in doing so, it grows its own. The indexer is cheap per-FLOP (few heads, low-rank, FP8) but it still runs at every single layer. The fix the paper proposes isn't a smarter indexer — it's don't run it every layer at all. 2. The core insight: adjacent layers pick almost the same tokens If you measure pairwise overlap between the top-k token sets selected by each layer's indexer, adjacent layers share 70–100% of their picks. The heatmap even shows block structure — clusters of layers (e.g. layers 3–5, 17–30, etc.) that all converge on roughly the same "important" tokens. So most of the O(NL²) indexer cost is redundant computation of the same answer. This motivates IndexCache : split the N layers into two roles — F (Full) layers — run their own indexer, compute fresh top-k, cache it. S (Shared) layers — skip the indexer entirely, just reuse the nearest preceding F layer's cached top-k. The first layer is always F (has to seed the

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