标签：#war

Java is everywhere in backend systems, enterprise applications, and production environments. But when it comes to numerical computing, data manipulation, and scientific-style operations, Python's NumPy ecosystem has become the standard. I wanted a similar experience in Java: a lightweight, dependency-free library for working with multidimensional arrays and linear algebra. That idea became NumPy4J. What is NumPy4J? NumPy4J is an open-source numerical computing library for Java inspired by NumPy. It provides: Multidimensional arrays (NDArray) NumPy-style broadcasting Array creation utilities Reshaping and slicing Element-wise operations Linear algebra operations Example: NDArray A = NDArray . of ( new double []{ 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 }, 2 , 2 ); NDArray B = NDArray . ones ( 2 , 2 ); NDArray C = A . add ( B ); Matrix operations: NDArray result = LinearAlgebra . matmul ( A , B ); Solving equations: NDArray x = LinearAlgebra.solve(A, b); Why build another numerical library? There are already excellent Java math libraries available. The goal of NumPy4J is different: Provide a NumPy-like API experience Make multidimensional arrays a first-class concept in Java Keep the API simple and approachable Create a foundation for future scientific computing features Testing approach To make sure behavior stays consistent, NumPy4J uses Python NumPy as a reference implementation. Test cases are generated with NumPy and validated against the Java implementation, covering: Broadcasting Matrix operations Reshaping Transpose Linear solving Element-wise calculations What's next? The roadmap includes: More NumPy-compatible operations Matrix decompositions (QR, LU, Cholesky) Eigenvalue computation More statistics functions Performance improvements Try it out If you work with Java and need NumPy-style numerical operations, I would love for you to try NumPy4J, provide feedback, and contribute ideas. GitHub: https://github.com/darius1973/numpy4j Documentation: https://darius1973.github.io/numpy4j/inde

First four compatible titles can be run with an 11-year-old graphics card.

The new feature lets users wirelessly transfer more data types from an iPhone without needing to download a separate app.

The long-held understanding among security researchers and network defenders is that it's impossible to negotiate in good faith with an extortion racket because there's no incentive for the other side to actually walk away.

If you've built even a simple AI agent, you've probably noticed that the "agent loop" itself is deceptively simple: the model gets a message, decides whether to call a tool, gets the result back, and repeats until it has an answer. But real-world agents need a lot more than that bare loop to actually work well. What happens when a conversation gets so long it blows past the model's context window? What if a tool call gets interrupted halfway through and leaves your message history in a broken state? What if you want the agent to keep a running todo list of what it's working on, or delegate parts of a task to a specialized sub-agent, or read and write files as part of its job? You could bolt all of this onto your agent manually. Or, if you're using Deep Agents, you get most of it for free through something called middleware . This post walks through what middleware actually is, why Deep Agents ships with a default stack of it, and how each piece behaves, with runnable code for each one so you can see it working instead of just reading about it. So What Is Middleware, Really? If you've done any web development, the term "middleware" probably already rings a bell. It's the same idea here. Middleware is code that sits around the core agent loop and gets a chance to run before or after certain things happen, like before a tool call executes, after the model responds, or right before messages are sent to the model. Instead of writing all of this logic directly inside your agent, you attach separate, independent pieces of middleware that each handle one specific concern. This matters for two reasons: You don't have to build common behaviors from scratch. Things like managing a todo list, summarizing long conversations, or handling file access are problems almost every non-trivial agent runs into. Deep Agents ships default middleware for these so you don't reinvent them every time. You can customize behavior without touching the agent's core logic. Need a custom summarizati

Most apps start their access control with something like this: function canEditReportsSummary ( role ) { return [ ' EDITOR ' , ' ADMIN ' ]. includes ( role ); } It works, right up until you have a dozen pages, each with a few sections, each needing independent read/write rules per role. Now you've got dozens of these little arrays scattered across the codebase, and adding a new role means hunting down every single one and hoping you didn't miss any. 0 There's a much simpler model that scales cleanly: a three-level permission tree — page → section → { r, w } - plus one generic function that walks it. No new library, no framework lock-in, just a data structure and ~5 lines of code. The shape of the data Instead of scattering role checks in code, define one permission tree per role . Three levels deep: Page — the top-level feature/route ( dashboard , reports , settings ) Section — a sub-area within that page ( overview , summary , billing ) Action — r (read) or w (write) { "dashboard" : { "overview" : { "r" : true , "w" : false }, "analytics" : { "r" : true , "w" : false } }, "reports" : { "summary" : { "r" : true , "w" : false }, "export" : { "r" : false , "w" : false } }, "settings" : { "general" : { "r" : true , "w" : false }, "billing" : { "r" : false , "w" : false } } } This one blob fully describes what a single role can see and do. Give each role its own tree, e.g. for three common roles: Page Section Viewer Editor Admin dashboard overview r r, w r, w dashboard analytics r r r, w reports summary r r, w r, w reports export – r r, w settings general r r r, w settings billing – – r, w Notice how this reads almost like a spreadsheet a product owner could fill in — that's the point. It's declarative data, not scattered if statements, so non-engineers can review it and engineers don't have to guess what a role does. The generic access-check function Once permissions are just nested objects, checking access is one small, reusable, framework-agnostic function: function

The most dangerous overengineering does not look careless. It looks thoughtful. It has clean interfaces, reusable components, configurable behavior, extension points, and an architecture diagram that makes the system appear ready for anything. Then the next feature arrives. A change that should take one afternoon touches seven layers, breaks three abstractions, and forces the team to understand a framework built for requirements that never appeared. That is what makes overengineering difficult to recognize. It rarely presents itself as unnecessary complexity. It presents itself as responsible engineering. It Usually Begins With a Reasonable Fear Developers do not overengineer because they want to make systems harder. They usually remember an earlier project that became painful. Maybe duplicated business logic spread across several screens. Maybe a component could not support a second use case. Maybe an integration became impossible to replace. Maybe a narrow implementation eventually required an expensive rewrite. The next time a similar problem appears, the team tries to protect itself. What if this feature grows? What if another team needs it? What if product asks for configuration? What if we add more providers? What if the rules change? These are reasonable questions. The problem begins when imagined requirements receive the same architectural weight as real ones. A single approval flow becomes a workflow engine. Two similar components become a universal rendering framework. One pricing exception becomes a configurable rules platform. The team tries to avoid future pain and creates immediate friction instead. The first use case now has to support requirements that do not exist. Developers must understand extension points nobody uses, configuration nobody needs, and interfaces protecting boundaries that have not appeared. Thinking about the future is not the mistake. Building the future before there is evidence is. Reuse Is Expensive Before the Pattern Is Stable

I honestly thought learning REST APIs would be easy. At first, creating a simple GET or POST endpoint feels straightforward and you start thinking, "I've got this." Then reality hits. Every API needs middleware, validation, error handling, controllers, database integration, authentication, authorization, testing, pagination, CORS, environment variables, deployment and a dozen other things. Somewhere along the way, you realize you didn't just sign up to build an API—you signed up to build an entire backend ecosystem. 😂💻

Over the past few months, I've noticed that most discussions around AI coding assistants focus on prompts. People share: .cursorrules AGENTS.md CLAUDE.md long prompt templates custom instructions The assumption is always the same: "If I explain my engineering practices clearly enough, the AI will follow them." For simple projects, that works. For real software projects, it eventually breaks down. The problem isn't intelligence. It's governance. Every AI coding assistant eventually produces something like this: giant functions skipped tests undocumented architectural decisions ignored security practices direct commits inconsistent commit messages missing pull request descriptions Not because the model suddenly became "worse". Because nothing prevents it from taking shortcuts. Exactly like humans. We already solved this problem... for humans. Professional software engineering has never relied on trust. Instead, we built systems that enforce discipline. We don't ask developers to: write tests We fail CI. We don't ask them to: use meaningful commit messages We reject the commit. We don't ask them: not to push directly to production Protected branches make it impossible. Engineering isn't based on trust. It's based on constraints. Yet with AI... ...we went backwards. Instead of constraints, we write instructions. We create increasingly sophisticated prompt files hoping the assistant will remember them. Always write tests. Always document architectural decisions. Use GitHub Flow. Follow OWASP. Keep functions below 40 lines. Never commit directly to main. Those aren't guarantees. They're suggestions. And suggestions are eventually ignored. Rules are not enforcement. Recently I came across an article making a simple observation: Rules without enforcement are just hopes. That sentence stayed with me. It perfectly describes the current state of AI-assisted development. An AI may fully understand your engineering rules. It may even agree with them. But unless something checks

Why I Switched to Plain Text Accounting Mint is shutting down. After 10 years of financial tracking, I am losing my data again. This time, I switched to plain text accounting with Beancount. The Problem with Traditional Apps Traditional financial apps have several issues: Export limitations : They only provide summary reports, not raw transaction data Proprietary formats : Data is stored in closed databases that require specific software to read Platform lock-in : Different systems are incompatible with each other Financial records are long-term. Over the past decade, dozens of financial apps have shut down, leaving users with years of records wiped out. The Plain Text Solution Plain text accounting with Beancount offers a different approach: Data Sovereignty Your data belongs to you. You can: Open it with any text editor Read it directly as a human Access it permanently, without depending on specific software Process it freely and completely Migrate with near-zero cost Future-Proof Plain text files will remain readable decades from now. They do not depend on any company staying in business or maintaining compatibility with legacy systems. Making the Switch The learning curve was worth it. I now have: Complete control over my financial data No vendor lock-in Confidence that my records will exist as long as I want them to Your data, your sovereignty. PersonalFinance #Fintech #DataSovereignty #Beancount

I'm AlanWu. I'm in junior high. I've written a lot of bad code. Here's what I changed to make it less bad. 1. Name things like a human // Don't do this int d ; // days? distance? damage? int cnt = 0 ; // "cnt" — you know, the classic vector < int > v ; // v of what // Do this int daysUntilDeadline ; int errorCount = 0 ; vector < int > studentScores ; Full words, no abbreviations. idx instead of i in loops is fine. But sz for size, cnt for count, ptr for pointer — just type the word. You're not being charged by the character. 2. Functions should do one thing If you need the word "and" to describe a function, split it. // Bad: does two things, name lies void loadAndValidateConfig () { readFile (); checkSyntax (); } // Better Config loadConfig ( string path ) { return parseConfig ( readFile ( path )); } bool validateConfig ( const Config & cfg ) { return cfg . width > 0 && cfg . height > 0 ; } My rule of thumb: if a function is longer than what fits on one screen, break it. If I can't describe what it does in one sentence without "and", break it. 3. Comments explain WHY, not WHAT // Bad — tells me what the code already says // Loop through all students for ( auto & s : students ) { s . score += 5 ; } // Good — tells me WHY, which the code can't // Extra credit: 5 points for submitting early for ( auto & s : students ) { s . score += 5 ; } If you're writing a comment that just restates the next line of code, delete it. The only comments worth keeping are the ones that answer "why did I do it this way?" 4. Don't nest too deep // Bad — 3 levels deep, I've already forgotten what the top level was for ( auto & student : students ) { if ( student . hasSubmitted ()) { for ( auto & answer : student . answers ) { if ( answer . isCorrect ()) { score ++ ; } } } } // Better — flatten with early exits for ( auto & student : students ) { if ( ! student . hasSubmitted ()) continue ; for ( auto & answer : student . answers ) { if ( ! answer . isCorrect ()) continue ; score ++ ; } } Al

Durante anos fizemos a pergunta errada "Será que a IA vai substituir os desenvolvedores?" Hoje sabemos que essa não era a pergunta correta. A pergunta correta é: O que passa a ter valor quando escrever código deixa de ser caro? Isso muda completamente a engenharia de software. Por décadas, metodologias como Waterfall, Scrum, XP, DDD e Clean Architecture nasceram em um mundo onde escrever código era caro. Documentação envelhecia rapidamente porque reescrevê-la custava caro. Especificações eram abandonadas porque implementar consumia semanas. Então surgiu a IA. Pela primeira vez na história, produzir código ficou quase gratuito. O valor migrou. Código ficou barato. Julgamento não. Hoje qualquer LLM produz centenas de linhas de código em segundos. Mas ela não decide: qual problema resolver; quais regras de negócio existem; quais exceções importam; quais compromissos arquiteturais devem permanecer pelos próximos cinco anos. Essas continuam sendo responsabilidades humanas. O gargalo mudou Antes, escrevíamos código. Agora escrevemos decisões. Especificações. Arquiteturas. Critérios de aceitação. Revisões. A vantagem competitiva deixou de ser velocidade de digitação. Passou a ser clareza de pensamento. Por que o vibe coding não escala Conversas são uma péssima fonte de verdade. Cada prompt aumenta o contexto. Cada correção adiciona mais tokens. Cada interação obriga a IA a reconstruir sua intenção. Em algum momento ela deixa de raciocinar sobre o sistema e passa a raciocinar sobre a conversa. Esse é o verdadeiro custo escondido do vibe coding. Especificações passam a ser o centro do projeto Foi essa percepção que originou o Spec Driven Development . A ideia é simples: A conversa deixa de ser a memória do projeto. A especificação passa a ser. Cada funcionalidade nasce de uma spec, evolui para um plano, transforma-se em tarefas e somente depois é implementada. O resultado é previsibilidade. Menos retrabalho. Menos tokens. Menos ambiguidades. https://books.kodel.com.br/pt-br/

If your Clio integration started returning 401 and you are trying to work out why, the first question is not about your code. It is which of Clio's two OAuth systems you are on, because they have different rules and most advice on the internet does not say which one it is describing. There are two, and they are not interchangeable Clio Manage is the older one. OAuth at app.clio.com/oauth , API at app.clio.com/api/v4 . Clio Platform is the newer one, covering Grow and the lead inbox among others. OAuth at auth.api.clio.com/oauth , API at api.clio.com . They differ on essentially every point that matters when a token dies. Manage Platform Access token lifetime 2,592,000s, 30 days 86,400s, 24 hours Refresh token expiry Documented as none No time expiry, but rotates Refresh token rotation Not documented, and the refresh sample returns no new refresh token Documented: rotates on every use, previous one revoked Revocation endpoint POST app.clio.com/oauth/deauthorize , Bearer auth POST auth.api.clio.com/oauth/revoke , Basic auth Treat the lifetime row as the documented default rather than a constant. Honour the expires_in you get back on each response instead of hardcoding 30 days, because there are field reports of accounts issuing much shorter access tokens, and a hardcoded assumption fails in a way that looks exactly like revocation. That rotation row is the one that decides your debugging. On Platform , every refresh gives you a new refresh token and kills the old one, so failing to persist the new value out of each response leaves you holding a dead token the next time you try. Clio's docs say it directly: store the new refresh token returned in each response. On Manage , the documented behaviour is a long-lived refresh token that does not expire and is not replaced. Their refresh response sample does not even include a refresh_token field. So on Manage, a token that suddenly stops working usually points somewhere else: revocation, or the wrong region. The region trap

If you have ever stared at a misbehaving circuit at two in the morning, muttering about the "bug" you cannot find, you are part of a lineage that runs back to a very literal insect. On September 9, 1947, engineers working on Harvard's Mark II computer opened up the machine, found a moth wedged inside a relay, and taped it into their logbook. The note beside it reads: "First actual case of bug being found." It is one of the most charming artifacts in the history of computing, and it carries a surprisingly practical lesson for anyone who builds connected hardware today. What actually happened in 1947 The Mark II was an electromechanical monster: a room-sized calculator built from thousands of relays, switches that physically clacked open and closed to represent ones and zeros. On that September day the machine was producing errors, and the operators -- part of the U.S. Navy computing effort that Grace Hopper worked in -- traced the fault to Relay #70 in Panel F. Inside was a moth, its wings shorting across the contacts. They removed it, taped it into the logbook at 15:45, and recorded the now-famous line. That page, moth still attached, lives today in the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History. Hopper loved telling the story for the rest of her career, which is why her name is forever attached to it. She is often credited with coining "bug" and "debugging" because of that moth, but the honest history is a little different, and the difference is the interesting part. The word "bug" was already old Engineers had been calling faults "bugs" for decades before 1947. Thomas Edison used the term in an 1878 letter to describe the little glitches and "difficulties" that show up when a new invention meets the real world. By the early twentieth century "bug" was common shop-floor slang among electrical and telephone engineers. So the moth did not invent the word. What made the logbook entry so memorable is the joke buried in it: "first actual case of bug being found"

The new leasing program is a big change for the hardware company, and comes as it looks to raise prices on many of its products.

Your resume tells people what you’ve done. Your GitHub shows what you’ve built. But your personal website tells people who you are. When I started learning web development, I believed that a good resume and a few GitHub repositories were enough. Like many students, I spent countless hours building projects, solving coding problems, and learning new technologies. Every new project felt like a milestone, yet all of them remained scattered across different platforms. A recruiter would have to open my resume, visit my GitHub, search for my LinkedIn profile, and perhaps never even discover the articles I had written or the experiments I had built. That made me realise something important. Developers need a place on the internet that they truly own. Not another profile. Not another social media account. A place that represents their identity, work, and journey. That’s what a personal website becomes. More Than Just a Portfolio Many people hear the words personal website and immediately think of a portfolio with a few screenshots and a contact form. A great developer website goes much further. It answers questions before anyone has to ask them. Who are you? What technologies do you enjoy working with? What problems have you solved? What kind of developer are you becoming? What have you learned recently? How can someone reach you? Instead of forcing visitors to jump across five different platforms, everything exists in one carefully designed experience. Your Name Deserves a Home Every developer works hard to build projects. Very few work equally hard to build their own identity. When someone searches your name, what should they find? Ideally, the very first result should be something you completely control. A website with your own domain isn’t just another webpage. It’s your digital home. Unlike social platforms, algorithms cannot redesign your identity overnight. You decide what visitors see first. You decide which projects matter. You decide how your story is told. Resume

I've spent my career helping people build software. This is a series of letters about what happens when the tools for building change faster than the principles behind building. Each one is a reminder that while the technology changes quickly, the questions that matter often stay the same. -- Dear past Jenna, The thing that drew you to tech in the first place, that it's always changing, is the thing that will keep you here. Tools change (sometimes for the better and sometimes not) almost weekly. People who never consider themselves technical, much less a developer, will build apps in an afternoon with this new programming language called English. Products will go from idea to deployed before you finish your first cup of coffee (you have a toddler now, so you rarely get the full cup before it goes cold anyways). "I don't know how to code" or "I'm not technical" is no longer a barrier to building. And that's exciting, given you've focused nearly your entire career helping others build software. But we can't confuse the ability to build with the wisdom to build. One of the most valuable habits you've developed over the last two decades is asking a simple question: "Should we build it?" For most of your career, "Can we build it?" was a hard question. Time, budget, complexity, maybe the tech wasn't there yet. But those constraints were usually temporary. With enough people, time, and money, just about anything is possible. But the real questions were always: Should we build this? Is this the best use of our time? Does this solve a problem our customers actually need solved, or does it create new problems? What are we choosing not to build? Those questions haven't changed, but the environment around them has. Today, almost anyone can build software. Between tools like Lovable, Bolt, Replit, Claude Code, Codex, and whatever's next, the barrier to building software is lower than it's ever been. Now the question "Can we build it?" is too easy to answer. It's almost always ye

"Current economic conditions" have shifted TreeSize's business model.

Light co-founder Kaiwei Tang helped create the Motorola Razr, and he's as surprised as anyone that over 20 years later, the flip phone is relevant again.

Learn more about Paramount's planned acquisition of Warner Bros. Discovery — a historic Hollywood megadeal valued at $111 billion — as it continues to develop.