Looking through some online discussions about AI yesterday, I noticed an interesting pattern emerging. The conversation had devolved into a series of brief, almost automated-looking responses that ironically demonstrated the very essence of what we call “The Bitter Lesson” in artificial intelligence.

Back in 2019, Rich Sutton wrote about this concept, suggesting that the most effective approach to AI has consistently been to leverage raw computation power rather than trying to encode human knowledge directly. The bitter truth? Our carefully crafted human insights often prove less valuable than simply letting machines figure things out through brute force and massive amounts of data.

The question of justifying non-essential purchases has been bouncing around in my head lately, particularly after spotting a discussion about mechanical keyboards. It struck a chord with me, reminding me of my own journey down various technological rabbit holes over the years.

Looking at my home office setup right now, I’m typing this on a mechanical keyboard that cost more than what most would consider reasonable. Yet, it’s one of those purchases that brings me joy every single day. The satisfying tactile feedback, the precision, and yes, that oddly satisfying ’thock’ sound – they all contribute to making my work experience more enjoyable.

Cleaning out the garage this morning, I stumbled upon some old Streets ice cream containers, which sparked a rather depressing realization about how far our beloved frozen treats have fallen. Looking at today’s “frozen dairy desserts” sitting in my freezer, the difference is stark - and not in a good way.

Remember when ice cream was actually ice cream? These days, many of our childhood favorites have been quietly reformulated into something that barely resembles the original product. The culprit? A cost-cutting move that replaces real dairy fat with cheaper vegetable oils, particularly palm oil. It’s a perfect example of what’s known as “enshittification” - the gradual degradation of product quality in pursuit of higher profits.

Sometimes the most interesting innovations come from unexpected places. Recently, I stumbled upon a fascinating discussion about dry ice blasting - a cleaning method that sounds like something straight out of a sci-fi movie but is revolutionizing commercial kitchen maintenance.

The technology is brilliantly simple yet incredibly effective. It uses tiny pellets of dry ice, about 3mm in size, propelled at high speed to clean equipment. When these pellets hit the surface, they expand to 800 times their original volume, effectively lifting away grime and grease without leaving any residue. The best part? No chemicals involved.

Last night’s discussion about an injured possum in our community struck a chord with me, bringing back memories of similar wildlife encounters in our urban jungle. It’s a scenario that perfectly illustrates the complex relationship between city life and our native wildlife.

The situation was heartbreaking - a possum with severe burns found beneath power lines. The immediate outpouring of advice and concern from locals highlighted something wonderful about our community, but it also exposed some concerning gaps in our wildlife emergency response system.

The internet has always been a double-edated sword when it comes to privacy. Sitting here in my home office, watching the rain pelt against my window (typical Melbourne weather), I’ve been following a concerning story about an educational institution attempting to unmask an anonymous Reddit user who criticized their safety policies.

This isn’t just another tale of institutional overreach - it’s a stark reminder of how fragile our online privacy really is. The story revolves around a school board seeking court orders to reveal the identity of someone who voiced concerns about safety issues following a tragic incident. Rather than addressing these concerns head-on, they’ve chosen to pursue legal action to identify and potentially silence their critic.

Something feels eerily familiar about the recent Tesla all-hands meeting where employees were instructed to hold onto their plummeting stock. The echoes of similar corporate narratives from the past - Enron, Lehman Brothers, and countless others - are impossible to ignore.

The stock has dropped 50%, and management’s response is to tell employees not to worry and keep holding? That’s not just a red flag; it’s a crimson banner the size of the MCG. Board members and executives have reportedly sold hundreds of millions worth of shares in recent months, yet employees are being told to stay the course. The cognitive dissonance is staggering.

Looking through various online discussions about self-hosted applications recently got me thinking about those lesser-known tools that become indispensable once you discover them. While everyone talks about the usual suspects like Plex, Home Assistant, and NextCloud, there’s a whole world of brilliant but underappreciated software out there.

One fascinating discovery was Wallos, a subscription manager that helps track all those recurring payments that seem to multiply when you’re not looking. Sure, you could use a spreadsheet, but having a dedicated tool that sends notifications before renewal dates is incredibly valuable in this subscription-heavy world.

The tech world is buzzing with former Intel CEO Pat Gelsinger’s recent comments about NVIDIA’s AI GPU pricing, claiming they’re “10,000x too expensive” for inference tasks. While sitting in my home office, looking at the rather modest Intel Arc GPU in my secondary machine, I can’t help but find the irony in these statements a bit rich.

Let’s be real here - NVIDIA’s pricing is absolutely eye-watering. The cost of their enterprise AI GPUs would make even the most seasoned tech procurement manager break into a cold sweat. But to suggest this is merely a case of Jensen Huang “getting lucky” with AI timing completely misses the mark.

Something’s fundamentally broken in our economic system when getting a promotion feels like treading water. The other day, while reviewing my budget spreadsheet (a monthly ritual that’s becoming increasingly depressing), I noticed a disturbing pattern that seems all too common these days.

Despite earning what would have been considered an excellent salary just a decade ago, the numbers tell a different story. Every “victory” in career progression feels hollow. That promotion you fought hard for? Half of it disappeared into the Medicare levy and HECS repayments. That annual bonus? Swept away by insurance premium hikes and utility bill increases that somehow always outpace inflation.