The recent news about severed undersea cables between Finland and Sweden has sent shivers down my spine while sitting here in my home office. These aren’t just any cables - they’re vital digital arteries connecting entire nations to the global internet infrastructure.

What’s particularly unsettling is how this incident mirrors similar events we’ve witnessed recently. Last time I discussed this topic with my mate over coffee at Hardware Lane, we were talking about the Nord Stream pipeline incident. Now we’re seeing the same pattern of critical infrastructure being targeted, but this time it’s our digital lifelines.

The tech world is buzzing again with another grandiose claim about artificial intelligence. Microsoft AI CEO Mustafa Suleyman recently declared they have prototypes with “near-infinite memory” that “just doesn’t forget.” Sitting here in my home office, watching the rain patter against my window while my MacBook hums quietly, I’m both intrigued and skeptical.

Remember that old quote about 640K of memory being enough for anybody? The tech industry has a long history of making bold predictions that either fall short or manifest in unexpected ways. The concept of near-infinite memory in AI systems sounds impressive, but what does it actually mean for us?

The cost of groceries has become a hot topic around every dinner table lately. Walking through my local Coles in Brunswick this morning, I noticed the price of my favourite Greek yoghurt had jumped again. It’s the same story we’re all living through - watching prices climb while our wages seem to stand still.

But here’s something interesting I’ve discovered: these price fluctuations aren’t as random as they appear. Some clever tech-savvy shoppers have developed browser extensions that track price patterns at both Coles and Woolworths. These tools reveal exactly how our major supermarkets manipulate their pricing, and the patterns are surprisingly predictable.

The internet has blessed us with another quintessentially Australian moment that’s been doing the rounds lately - a tradie wearing electrical tape as makeshift thongs at what appears to be a local pub. Pure genius or pure desperation? Perhaps a bit of both.

Standing there in his hi-vis shirt, this resourceful sparky wouldn’t let a little thing like proper footwear stand between him and a cold one after work. The solution? Black electrical tape fashioned into a crude pair of thongs. The craftsmanship might not win any design awards, but you’ve got to admire the ingenuity.

The internet never fails to deliver a good laugh, and today’s gem involves a 60-year-old teddy bear that looks like it might have witnessed the fall of empires - or possibly caused them. The poor thing’s owner innocently asked for washing advice, and the responses were absolutely priceless, ranging from “holy water” to “flamethrower.”

Looking at this weathered old bear, with its slightly askew features and well-worn fabric, brought back memories of my own childhood teddy, Mr. Buttons, who thankfully looked more “loved” than “likely to steal your soul.” He’s still sitting in a box somewhere in my garage, probably wondering why he got replaced by an iPad.

The recent African Music & Cultural Festival at Federation Square brought something unexpectedly heartwarming to my social media feed this weekend. Between the vibrant performances and mouth-watering food stalls, a few Victoria Police officers were spotted joining in the festivities, dancing and engaging with festival-goers in a way that sparked both joy and debate online.

Standing in stark contrast to the often-tense relationship between law enforcement and diverse communities, these moments of genuine human connection struck me as particularly significant. The sight of uniformed officers letting their guard down, swaying to African beats, and sharing laughs with festival attendees painted a picture of what community policing could and should be.

Reading through various online discussions about workplace attitudes lately has got me thinking about how dramatically our relationship with work has shifted. The conversation that really caught my eye centered around basic workplace courtesies - things like wearing headphones in customer-facing roles or the way people approach leave requests these days.

Sitting here in my home office, sipping my flat white and reflecting on my own career journey, I can’t help but see both sides of this evolving narrative. Twenty years ago, when I landed my first proper job at a tech company in the CBD, the workplace dynamics were radically different. We showed up early, stayed late, and genuinely believed that going above and beyond would lead to recognition and advancement.

The recent departure of Stephen King from X (formerly Twitter) feels like watching the final scenes of a horror movie we all knew was coming. The master of horror himself has deemed the platform too toxic to remain, and honestly, who can blame him?

From my quiet corner of Carlton, where I often enjoy a peaceful coffee while scrolling through my various feeds, I’ve watched the platform’s steady descent into chaos since Elon Musk’s takeover. The transformation has been fascinating and disturbing in equal measure, like watching a slow-motion train wreck through the lens of a particularly dark Black Mirror episode.

Standing in my home office, sipping my flat white and staring at the small cluster of Raspberry Pis humming away on my desk, I’ve been thinking about the state of self-hosted software. The topic caught my attention during a fascinating discussion about what tools people wish they could self-host but can’t find decent alternatives for.

What struck me most wasn’t the list of missing tools, but rather how far we’ve come. The open-source ecosystem has matured significantly over the past decade. Remember when running your own server meant endless nights of troubleshooting and a PhD-level understanding of Linux? Those days are largely behind us.

Something rather amusing is happening in the world of AI right now. Google’s latest Gemini model (specifically Exp 1114) has climbed to the top of the Chatbot Arena rankings, matching or surpassing its competitors across multiple categories. But there’s a catch - it seems to be having an identity crisis.

When asked about its identity, this Google-created AI sometimes claims to be Claude, an AI assistant created by Anthropic. It’s a bit like walking into a McDonald’s and having the person behind the counter insist they work at Hungry Jack’s. The tech community is having a field day with this peculiar behaviour, with some suggesting Google might have trained their model on Claude’s data.