Well, there goes another one. Maybe Finance, the personal finance app that caught my attention with its sleek design and open-source promise, has just announced they’re shutting down their consumer-facing product to pivot to B2B. Their final version 0.6.0 dropped on GitHub with what I’d call a refreshingly honest explanation, but it still stings for anyone who bought into the vision.

This whole situation has me thinking about the fundamental tension between venture capital and open source software. When Maybe first appeared on my radar, something felt off about the setup. Here’s a company that raised VC money, promised an open-source personal finance tool, and then – surprise – discovered that giving away software for free doesn’t generate the returns their investors were expecting. Who could have seen that coming?

The news hit the tech forums this week like a quiet thud rather than a dramatic crash - Readarr, the book automation tool that many of us relied on for managing our digital libraries, has officially been retired. The GitHub repository is now archived, and the developers have thrown in the towel, citing unusable metadata, lack of time, and a stalled community effort to transition to Open Library.

It’s one of those moments that makes you pause and think about the fragility of the open source ecosystem we’ve all come to depend on. Here’s a project that filled a genuine need - automating book downloads and library management in the same way that Sonarr handles TV shows and Radarr manages movies. Yet despite its usefulness, it’s now joining the digital graveyard of abandoned projects.

Been mulling over something that’s been bugging me for weeks now. It started when I stumbled across a discussion from a frontend developer who’s been wrestling with the same concerns I’ve had about AI tools in our industry. The bloke made some pretty sharp observations about how these tools are being marketed and used, and it really struck a chord.

The crux of his argument was simple but powerful: AI tools are being sold as magic bullets that require no expertise, promising fast results and cost savings. But here’s the kicker - if you don’t have the expertise to properly instruct these tools and evaluate their output, you’re going to get garbage. It’s like handing a Formula 1 car to someone who’s never driven anything more complex than a Toyota Camry and expecting them to win races.

The tech world is buzzing with discussions about Amazon’s latest approach to software development, where AI tools are transforming coding into what many engineers describe as an assembly line process. Reading through various comments and perspectives online, this shift feels eerily familiar to what happened during the Industrial Revolution.

Working in tech for over two decades, I’ve witnessed the pendulum swing between valuing creativity and prioritizing efficiency. The current push toward AI-assisted coding at major tech companies raises some serious concerns about the future of software development.

The tech world is buzzing with another bold claim about AI coding assistants. This time, it’s about Cursor apparently churning out a billion lines of “accepted” code daily. Reading this while working on a legacy codebase migration project at my desk in South Melbourne, I had to pause and reflect on what this really means.

Numbers can be deceiving, especially in software development. Back in my early career days, I remember the misguided pride I took in writing hundreds of lines of code daily. Now, with decades of experience under my belt, I take far more satisfaction in deleting unnecessary code than adding new lines.

The self-hosting community has been buzzing lately with discussions about Nextcloud, and it’s fascinating to see how polarised the opinions are. Reading through various forums and discussions, I’m struck by the stark contrast between those who swear by it and others who can barely contain their frustration.

Having run my own home server setup from my study in Brunswick for several years, I’ve experienced firsthand how self-hosted solutions can either be a dream or a nightmare. The Nextcloud situation reminds me of the early days of Linux on the desktop - what works flawlessly for one person might be completely unusable for another.

Recently stumbled upon a fascinating thread discussing open-source alternatives to popular SaaS products. The list was impressive - everything from project management tools to photo storage solutions. But what really caught my attention wasn’t the alternatives themselves, but the complex discussion around what truly constitutes “open source” software.

The conversation particularly heated up around photo management solutions like Immich and Ente.io. While many users praised these alternatives, others raised valid concerns about breaking changes and sustainability models. It reminded me of the countless hours I’ve spent in my home office, tinkering with various self-hosted solutions, only to face the harsh reality of maintenance overhead.