More from Alex Meub
3D Printing has allowed me to be creative in ways I never thought possible. It has allowed me to create products that provide real value, products that didn’t exist before I designed them. On top of that, it’s satisfied my desire to ship products, even if the end-user is just me. Another great thing is how quickly 3D printing provides value. If I see a problem, I can design and print a solution that works in just a few hours. Even if I’m the only one who benefits, that’s enough. But sharing these creations takes the experience even further. When I see others use or improve on something I’ve made, it makes the process feel so much more worthwhile. It gives me the same feeling of fulfillment when I ship software products at work. Before mass-market 3D printing, creators would need to navigate the complexity and high costs of mass-production methods (like injection molding) even to get a limited run of a niche product produced. With 3D printing, they can transfer the cost of production to others. Millions of people have access to good 3D printers now (at home, work, school, libraries, maker spaces), which means almost anyone can replicate a design. Having a universal format for sharing 3D designs dramatically lowers the effort that goes into sharing them. Creators can share their design as an STL file, which describes the surface geometry of their 3D object as thousands of little triangles. This “standard currency” of the 3D printing world is often all that is required to precisely replicate a design. This dramatically lowers the effort that goes into sharing printable designs. The widespread availability of 3D printers and the universal format for sharing 3D designs has allowed 3D-printed products to not only exist but thrive in maker communities. This is the magic of 3D printing: it empowers individuals to solve their own problems by designing solutions while enabling others to reproduce those designs at minimal cost and effort.
Last summer, I was inspired by a computer that was built inside of a toaster that I saw at a local computer recycling store. The idea of a computer with the design of a home appliance was really appealing and so was the absurdity of it. It occurred to me that this would be a fun and creative way to integrate technology into my life. After thinking about it, I realized there’s also something visually appealing about how simple and utilitarian toasters are. I have major nostalgia for the famous After Dark screensaver and I think this is why. I knew now that I wanted to make my own attempt at a toaster/computer hybrid. I decided to do just that when I created the DataToaster 3000: a toaster NAS with two 3.5 inch hard disk docking stations built inside it. The hard disks can be easily swapped out (while powered off) without taking anything apart. It uses a Zimaboard x86-64 single board computer and even has a functional knob that controls the color of the power LED. I designed a fairly complex set of 3D-printed parts that attach to the base of the toaster and hold everything neatly in place. This allows it to be easily disassembled if I ever want to make any modifications and also hopefully makes the project easier to build for others. It’s a ridiculous thing but I really do love it. You can find the build guide on Instructables and the 3D models on Printables.
I wanted to add more hauling capacity to my bike and was looking for something compatible with my Yepp rear rack. I also use my rack with a child seat (the Yepp Maxi) which has a mechanism that allows it to attach and detach easily without sacrificing safety. I was thinking it would be great to build a Yepp compatible rear basket that could I just as quickly attach/detach from my rack. I designed a removable Yepp-rack-compatible rear basket that consists of a milk crate, some plywood for stability and a 3D printed bracket threaded for M6 bolts which hold it all together. It can be attached and removed in seconds and is very secure. 3D Printed Mounting Bracket I modeled my mounting bracket after the one on the Yepp Maxi childseat. After a few iterations I was able to make it perfectly fit. I printed it in PETG filament so it was UV resistant and then installed threaded inserts for M6 bolts to attach it to the milk crate and my rear rack. 3D Print and Build Instructions You can find the 3D print on Printables and a full build guide on Instructables.
The Yoto Mini is one of my favorite products. The team behind it deeply understands its users and put just the right set of features into a brilliantly designed package. I have no affiliation with Yoto, I’m just a happy customer with kids who love it. If you aren’t aware, Yoto is an audio platform for kids with what they call “screen-free” audio players (even though they have little pixel LED screens on them). The players are Wi-Fi enabled and support playing audio from credit card-sized NFC tags called Yoto cards. Yoto sells audio players and also licenses audio content and offers it on its platform as well. The cards themselves do not contain any audio data, just a unique ID of the audio content that is pulled from the cloud. After content is pulled on the first play, it is saved and played locally from the player after that. Yoto also supports playing podcasts and music stations without using cards. Their marketing puts a lot of emphasis on the platform being “ad-free” which is mostly true as there are never ads on Yoto cards or official Yoto podcasts. However, some of the other podcasts do advertise their content. So, what’s so great about the Yoto Mini? This concept isn’t new as there have been many examples of audio players for kids over the years. What sets it apart is how every detail of the hardware, mobile app, and exclusive content is meticulously designed and well executed. Yoto Mini Hardware The main input methods of the Yoto Mini are two orange knobs, turning the left knob controls volume and the right knob navigates chapters or tracks. Pressing the right knob instantly plays the Yoto Daily podcast and pressing it twice plays Yoto Radio (a kid-friendly music station). These actions are both configurable in the mobile app. The NFC reader slot accepts Yoto cards and instantly starts playing where you left off after you insert one. It has a high-quality speaker that can be surprisingly loud, an on/off button, a USB-C charging port, an audio output jack, and a small pixel display that shows images related to the audio content. The Yoto Mini is also surprisingly durable. My kids have dropped it many times on hard surfaces and it still basically looks as good as new. Yoto understands that the physical audio player itself is primarily used by younger kids and the design reflects this. My 3-year-old daughter was able to figure out how to turn it on/off, start listening to books using cards, and play the Yoto Daily podcast each morning which was empowering for her. This was her first technology product that she was fully capable of using without help from an adult. I can’t think of many other products that do this better. Yoto Mobile App The Yoto team understands that parents are users of this product too, mostly for managing the device and its content. Yoto has built a very good mobile experience that is tightly integrated with the hardware and provides all the features you’d want as a parent. From the app, you can start playing any of the content from cards you own on the player or your phone (nice if your kids lose a card), you can set volume limits for both night and day time, you can set alarms, and configure the shortcut buttons. You can record audio onto a blank Yoto card (which comes with the player) if your kid wants to create their own story, link it to their favorite podcast or favorite music. The app even lets you give each track custom pixel art that is displayed on the screen. Audio Content By far the most underrated feature is a daily podcast called Yoto Daily. This ad-free podcast is run by a charming British host and it is funny, entertaining, and educational. My kids (now 4 and 7) look forward to it every morning and the fact that it’s daily free content that is integrated directly into the Yoto hardware is amazing. To me, this is the killer feature, as my kids get to enjoy it every day and it’s always fresh and interesting. Yoto licenses content from child book authors, popular kid’s shows, movies, and music (recently the Beatles) which are made available in their store. I also discovered that Yoto does not seem to lock down its content with DRM. My son traded some Yoto cards with a friend and I assumed there would be some kind of transfer or de-registration process but to my surprise, they just worked without issue. Conclusion The Yoto Mini is a delightful product. The team behind it thought through every detail and made it an absolute joy to use both as a child and parent. I’m impressed at how well the Yoto team understands their users and prioritizes simplicity and ease of use above all else.
When I first got my 3D printer, I built an enclosure to protect it from dust, maintain a consistent temperature, and minimize noise. I was surprised to find that the enclosure didn’t reduce noise that significantly. I then placed a patio paver under my printer, which made it noticeably quieter, but it was still audible from other rooms in my house. Recently, I found the most effective noise reduction solution: squash balls. These balls are designed with varying bounce levels, indicated by colored dots. The “double-yellow dot” balls have a very low bounce, making them ideal for dampening vibration, which is the primary cause of printer noise. I found an existing design for squash ball feet, printed it, and hot glued them evenly under my patio paver. My current setup includes the enclosure, patio paver, and squash balls under the paver. Now, the printer is so quiet that I actually can’t tell if it’s running, even when I’m in the same room. Occasionally, I will hear the stepper motors, but that’s rare. Most of the time I need to open the enclosure to make sure it’s still printing.
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Linus Torvalds, Creator of Git and Linux, on reducing cognitive load
You heard there was money in tech. You never cared about technology. You are an entryist piece of shit. But you won’t leave willingly. Give it all away to everyone for free. Then you’ll have no reason to be here.
Understanding how the architecture of a remote build system for Bazel helps implement verifiable action execution and end-to-end builds
Debates, at their finest, are about exploring topics together in search for truth. That probably sounds hopelessly idealistic to anyone who've ever perused a comment section on the internet, but ideals are there to remind us of what's possible, to inspire us to reach higher — even if reality falls short. I've been reaching for those debating ideals for thirty years on the internet. I've argued with tens of thousands of people, first on Usenet, then in blog comments, then Twitter, now X, and also LinkedIn — as well as a million other places that have come and gone. It's mostly been about technology, but occasionally about society and morality too. There have been plenty of heated moments during those three decades. It doesn't take much for a debate between strangers on this internet to escalate into something far lower than a "search for truth", and I've often felt willing to settle for just a cordial tone! But for the majority of that time, I never felt like things might escalate beyond the keyboards and into the real world. That was until we had our big blow-up at 37signals back in 2021. I suddenly got to see a different darkness from the most vile corners of the internet. Heard from those who seem to prowl for a mob-sanctioned opportunity to threaten and intimidate those they disagree with. It fundamentally changed me. But I used the experience as a mirror to reflect on the ways my own engagement with the arguments occasionally felt too sharp, too personal. And I've since tried to refocus way more of my efforts on the positive and the productive. I'm by no means perfect, and the internet often tempts the worst in us, but I resist better now than I did then. What I cannot come to terms with, though, is the modern equation of words with violence. The growing sense of permission that if the disagreement runs deep enough, then violence is a justified answer to settle it. That sounds so obvious that we shouldn't need to state it in a civil society, but clearly it is not. Not even in technology. Not even in programming. There are plenty of factions here who've taken to justify their violent fantasies by referring to their ideological opponents as "nazis", "fascists", or "racists". And then follow that up with a call to "punch a nazi" or worse. When you hear something like that often enough, it's easy to grow glib about it. That it's just a saying. They don't mean it. But I'm afraid many of them really do. Which brings us to Charlie Kirk. And the technologists who name drinks at their bar after his mortal wound just hours after his death, to name but one of the many, morbid celebrations of the famous conservative debater's death. It's sickening. Deeply, profoundly sickening. And my first instinct was exactly what such people would delight in happening. To watch the rest of us recoil, then retract, and perhaps even eject. To leave the internet for a while or forever. But I can't do that. We shouldn't do that. Instead, we should double down on the opposite. Continue to show up with our ideals held high while we debate strangers in that noble search for the truth. Where we share our excitement, our enthusiasm, and our love of technology, country, and humanity. I think that's what Charlie Kirk did so well. Continued to show up for the debate. Even on hostile territory. Not because he thought he was ever going to convince everyone, but because he knew he'd always reach some with a good argument, a good insight, or at least a different perspective. You could agree or not. Counter or be quiet. But the earnest exploration of the topics in a live exchange with another human is as fundamental to our civilization as Socrates himself. Don't give up, don't give in. Keep debating.
In my old age I’ve mostly given up trying to convince anyone of anything. Most people do not care to find the truth, they care about what pumps their bags. Some people go as far as to believe that perception is reality and that truth is a construction. I hope there’s a special place in hell for those people. It’s why the world wasted $10B+ on self driving car companies that obviously made no sense. There’s a much bigger market for truths that pump bags vs truths that don’t. So here’s your new truth that there’s no market for. Do you believe a compiler can code? If so, then go right on believing that AI can code. But if you don’t, then AI is no better than a compiler, and arguably in its current form, worse. The best model of a programming AI is a compiler. You give it a prompt, which is “the code”, and it outputs a compiled version of that code. Sometimes you’ll use it interactively, giving updates to the prompt after it has returned code, but you find that, like most IDEs, this doesn’t work all that well and you are often better off adjusting the original prompt and “recompiling”. While noobs and managers are excited that the input language to this compiler is English, English is a poor language choice for many reasons. It’s not precise in specifying things. The only reason it works for many common programming workflows is because they are common. The minute you try to do new things, you need to be as verbose as the underlying language. AI workflows are, in practice, highly non-deterministic. While different versions of a compiler might give different outputs, they all promise to obey the spec of the language, and if they don’t, there’s a bug in the compiler. English has no similar spec. Prompts are highly non local, changes made in one part of the prompt can affect the entire output. tl;dr, you think AI coding is good because compilers, languages, and libraries are bad. This isn’t to say “AI” technology won’t lead to some extremely good tools. But I argue this comes from increased amounts of search and optimization and patterns to crib from, not from any magic “the AI is doing the coding”. You are still doing the coding, you are just using a different programming language. That anyone uses LLMs to code is a testament to just how bad tooling and languages are. And that LLMs can replace developers at companies is a testament to how bad that company’s codebase and hiring bar is. AI will eventually replace programming jobs in the same way compilers replaced programming jobs. In the same way spreadsheets replaced accounting jobs. But the sooner we start thinking about it as a tool in a workflow and a compiler—through a lens where tons of careful thought has been put in—the better. I can’t believe anyone bought those vibe coding crap things for billions. Many people in self driving accused me of just being upset that I didn’t get the billions, and I’m sure it’s the same thoughts this time. Is your way of thinking so fucking broken that you can’t believe anyone cares more about the actual truth than make believe dollars? From this study, AI makes you feel 20% more productive but in reality makes you 19% slower. How many more billions are we going to waste on this? Or we could, you know, do the hard work and build better programming languages, compilers, and libraries. But that can’t be hyped up for billions.