“An important part of any art is for the artists to escape the "part of the present that is the past", and for most artists, this is delicate because the present is so everywhere and loud and interruptive.” https://t.co/XUhYWAJEjZ
A first: Batteries have become so cheap that around-the-clock solar is becoming economically viable.
In 2024 alone, average battery prices fell by 40% and signs are a similar fall is occurring in 2025.
Pairing solar with enough batteries to keep the electricity flowing though the night is no longer a distant dream – it's an economic reality. At around just $76/MWh all in, dispatchable solar is already competitive with other forms of firm generation in many markets. https://t.co/MDQe6ct1Av
Microservices is the software industry’s most successful confidence scam. It convinces small teams that they are “thinking big” while systematically destroying their ability to move at all. It flatters ambition by weaponizing insecurity: if you’re not running a constellation of services, are you even a real company? Never mind that this architecture was invented to cope with organizational dysfunction at planetary scale. Now it’s being prescribed to teams that still share a Slack channel and a lunch table.
Small teams run on shared context. That is their superpower. Everyone can reason end-to-end. Everyone can change anything. Microservices vaporize that advantage on contact. They replace shared understanding with distributed ignorance. No one owns the whole anymore. Everyone owns a shard. The system becomes something that merely happens to the team, rather than something the team actively understands. This isn’t sophistication. It’s abdication.
Then comes the operational farce. Each service demands its own pipeline, secrets, alerts, metrics, dashboards, permissions, backups, and rituals of appeasement. You don’t “deploy” anymore—you synchronize a fleet. One bug now requires a multi-service autopsy. A feature release becomes a coordination exercise across artificial borders you invented for no reason. You didn’t simplify your system. You shattered it and called the debris “architecture.”
Microservices also lock incompetence in amber. You are forced to define APIs before you understand your own business. Guesses become contracts. Bad ideas become permanent dependencies. Every early mistake metastasizes through the network. In a monolith, wrong thinking is corrected with a refactor. In microservices, wrong thinking becomes infrastructure. You don’t just regret it—you host it, version it, and monitor it.
The claim that monoliths don’t scale is one of the dumbest lies in modern engineering folklore. What doesn’t scale is chaos. What doesn’t scale is process cosplay. What doesn’t scale is pretending you’re Netflix while shipping a glorified CRUD app. Monoliths scale just fine when teams have discipline, tests, and restraint. But restraint isn’t fashionable, and boring doesn’t make conference talks.
Microservices for small teams is not a technical mistake—it is a philosophical failure. It announces, loudly, that the team does not trust itself to understand its own system. It replaces accountability with protocol and momentum with middleware. You don’t get “future proofing.” You get permanent drag. And by the time you finally earn the scale that might justify this circus, your speed, your clarity, and your product instincts will already be gone.
If you listen to Rachmaninoff and Prokofiev's recordings of their own work, you find they play with a surprising emotional lightness, relative to others playing their work; like they're a little embarrassed to put as much emotion in playing works of their own creation
I got a call from a criminal defendant I believe is innocent. Before calling me, he voluntarily participated in a police interrogation for several hours. He believed that "I have nothing to hide" and that he could explain to the police why they had the wrong guy.
Defense attorneys might call this naïve, but look at the responses to Fleishman's OP. Even high-IQ people really believe this is how law enforcement works.
Here's the problem. When you agree to a police interrogation, you and the police are playing two different games.
As the suspect, you believe you are playing a multiplayer, collaborative game.
But the police aren't even playing a multiplayer game. They're playing a *one-player game,* like Tetris.
As the suspect, you're not a player in the game. You're more like the game environment, producing falling blocks for the player—the police.
The police play this game by collecting your statements like blocks and fitting them into a picture that incriminates you. When enough blocks have fit together, the police have won the game and refer the case to a prosecutor.
You believe that, once you convince the police that you are innocent, you will all win. But that's not a real outcome of the game. "Evidence that I am innocent" is not even a game element. From the cops' perspective, if they fail to assemble the blocks into an incriminating picture, they have lost the game.
Suspects who think "I have nothing to hide" are always surprised when the interrogation lasts several hours. "I've already explained everything - why am I still here?" they think.
That's because the longer the game goes on, the more falling blocks the police have to assemble their case. It's in their interests to keep the game going long past what *your game* required.
All suspects eventually sense this on some gut level and become frustrated. You think: "Wait a minute, - all of their questions are subtly premised on my guilt! But I can prove to them that I'm not guilty. I need to appeal to them to really hear me out."
I.e., "Let's start over with a different game where we can all work together."
But even as you're trying to change the game, you are speaking and therefore generating more blocks.
Here's the only solution. The moment you have any reason to believe you're a suspect, exit the game. Politely ask if you are free to leave. If they say "no," calmly tell them "I invoke my right to remain silent and my right to counsel."
If you're in custody when you say this, the cops will actually physically stand up and leave the room as if you've just uttered a magic incantation.
All of the desirable people - the ones that you actually want to work with, spend time with, or date - won’t apply for the job.
They have to be identified from afar and hunted down.
Not a month goes by where I don't remind myself of this fundamental truth: There is no speed limit. It doesn't just apply to learning, but also to doing. Everything can be done faster, if you judo the problems, and decide to see it through. https://t.co/KmaA0mUupo
"Our very life here depends directly on continuous acts of beginning."
A spell against stagnation – John O'Donohue on beginnings https://t.co/KbYPGqPCej