Been scrolling through AI discussions lately and stumbled across this fascinating chart showing the emotional rollercoaster we’ve all been on with AI development over the past few years. The graph perfectly captures what someone described as the “it’s so over” to “we’re so back” vibes that seem to define our relationship with artificial intelligence progress.

Looking at those peaks and valleys, it really does feel like we’re all passengers on some sort of collective emotional pendulum. One minute everyone’s convinced we’ve hit the dreaded “AI wall” and progress has stagnated, the next minute there’s a breakthrough that has us all believing the singularity is just around the corner.

The grocery duopoly in this country has been driving me up the wall lately. Coles and Woolworths have such a stranglehold on the market that they can essentially charge whatever they want, and we’re left with little choice but to cop it sweet. So when someone recently shared a tool they’d built to help us fight back against this system, I was genuinely excited.

The tool is called CW Scanner, and it does something brilliantly simple: it compares prices between Coles and Woolworths in real time. You can scan a barcode or search for items, and it shows you which store has the better deal. What really impressed me is that it’s completely free – no ads, no paywalls, no sign-ups required unless you want to save shopping lists.

The discussion around tax reform has been heating up lately, and frankly, it’s about bloody time. When you hear that 91 people earning over a million dollars paid absolutely zero income tax last financial year, something’s clearly broken in the system. Not bent - broken.

What really gets my goat isn’t necessarily that these ultra-wealthy individuals are breaking the law. Most aren’t. They’re just playing a game where the rules are so skewed in their favour that the rest of us are left wondering how we ended up with such a wonky system in the first place. It’s like watching someone win at Monopoly because they convinced everyone else that collecting $200 for passing Go only applies to properties they don’t own.

The internet never ceases to amaze me with its ability to turn the most mundane household items into revolutionary discoveries. This week, I stumbled across a thread that had people absolutely losing their minds over squeegees – yes, those rubber-blade tools you use on your shower tiles – and their apparently magical ability to remove pet hair from carpets and furniture.

Now, I’ll be honest, my daughter and I have been lobbying for a cat for months (my wife remains diplomatically neutral), but even without a furry friend of our own, I found myself fascinated by the collective “eureka!” moment happening in the comments. There’s something deeply satisfying about watching people discover that the solution to their pet hair woes has been sitting in their cleaning cupboard all along.

You know what really gets under my skin? It’s not the trams running late (though that’s bloody annoying), or even the price of a decent coffee these days. It’s watching perfectly intelligent people throw basic grammar and punctuation out the window like they’re disposing of yesterday’s Herald Sun.

I stumbled across this discussion online about punctuation disasters, and honestly, it struck a nerve. There was this classic exchange where someone’s offering proofreading services, only to have a client with “30 years in media” smugly decline because they can handle their own copy, thank you very much. The punchline? Their response contained “Its my pleasure” – missing that crucial apostrophe that would make any English teacher weep.

Philip K. Dick must be rolling in his grave. What started as dystopian science fiction in “Minority Report” has just become official UK government policy, with their announcement about using AI to help police “catch criminals before they strike.” The jokes practically write themselves, except this time, nobody’s laughing.

Reading through the government’s announcement feels like watching a masterclass in technological naivety. They’re promising AI systems that can somehow predict criminal behaviour, but the details are frustratingly vague. Will cameras scan for suspicious body language? Will algorithms flag people carrying kitchen knives home from the shops? The lack of specifics is almost as concerning as the concept itself.

The tech industry’s latest revelation has been doing the rounds this week, and frankly, it’s both hilarious and deeply frustrating. Apparently, some AI experts visited China and returned “stunned” by the state of America’s power grid compared to China’s surplus capacity. The hot take? The U.S. might have already lost the AI race because their electricity infrastructure is, to put it mildly, absolute rubbish.

Now, I’m sitting here wondering: did these folks really need to travel halfway around the world to figure out that decades of underinvestment in basic infrastructure might come back to bite them? Anyone who’s lived through a Texas winter storm or a California heat wave could have saved them the airfare.

I’ve been watching the discussion around SparkyFitness with genuine fascination this week. Here’s an open-source, self-hosted alternative to MyFitnessPal that just dropped its first Android app, and the response from the community has been nothing short of enthusiastic. But what really caught my attention wasn’t just the technical achievement – it’s what this represents in our increasingly surveillance-heavy digital landscape.

The project itself is impressive enough. SparkyFitness offers nutrition tracking through multiple food databases, exercise logging, water intake monitoring, and even has an AI nutrition coach in development. The developer has clearly put serious thought into creating something comprehensive rather than just another half-baked alternative. But here’s what gets me excited: people are genuinely thrilled about the prospect of running their own fitness tracking server.

You know that feeling when you’re scrolling through your feeds and something catches your eye that seems almost too good to be true? Well, that happened to me yesterday when I stumbled across discussions about Google’s latest Gemma model release. The initial excitement was palpable - people were practically salivating over what they thought was a 270B parameter model. The reality? A humble 270M parameters.

The collective “oh” that rippled through the AI community was almost audible. One moment everyone’s planning how they’ll squeeze a 270 billion parameter behemoth onto their rigs, the next they’re sheepishly admitting they misread the specs. It’s like showing up to what you thought was going to be a massive warehouse sale only to find it’s actually a small garage sale in someone’s driveway.

I’ve been following an interesting workplace saga that’s been making the rounds online, and it’s got me thinking about how quickly things can escalate when people mistake the office for their personal social media feed.

The story goes like this: someone posted about a colleague who’d been making increasingly problematic comments at work. The latest update? That colleague got fired on the same day he made a comment rating a female coworker’s appearance as “flat as a board, a 3/10.” No warning, just immediate termination.