What the hell does Quant actually do? A model... is trained in BF16, released in Q8, and we use Q4 because we're told 'its nearly lossless'. Fine, but I was curious about the 'nearly' part, what is actually being lost between BF16 all the way down to Q2? As always, its complicated. Needed a way to visualize the loss, so I had a Qwen 3.8 27B BF16 create a paragraph then had every quant below it do the same and marked the mutations. When a model writes a word, it assigns 'how sure' percentage to each. For example, 'The weather tomorrow is *windy*, a model is 90% sure all the words are correct except the windy part, since it can also be sunny, cold, hot, cloudy, etc. Any words a BF16 model was 90% sure of, every quant down to Q2 rarely changes it. On the other hand, any word that it was only 40~50% sure of, such as windy in our example, are the types of data that gets impacted by the quant process. Okay so what, some words changed, how does this impact anything? I set out to find out, and its all below if you are just as weird as I am about these things.show more

Killy
19,592 views • 2 months ago
You've probably scrolled past a dozen posts about Jev... this week without anyone telling you what it actually is. It's the first model from TypeSafe, a lab started by one of the researchers behind ChatGPT. It's a decision engine: you give it options, it picks one and tells you how sure it is. It cannot write a single word, and that is the interesting part. Every other AI you use writes. That is the whole interface. So when software needs a plain yes or no, we make a model write a paragraph and then dig the answer back out of it. Fine in a chat window where a human reads it. Bad inside software, where code has to act on it. The bet is that the valuable half was never the writing. It was the deciding. That problem showed up in WordPress years ago, and it is the reason WPVibe works the way it does. The AI does the work. Anything permanent stops and waits, because a delete that skips the trash is not something software should decide on its own.show more

John Turner
21,029 views • 1 month ago
watch anon. a 27b model thinking out loud on... gtx 1660 super, i asked bonsai what model it is and it reasoned through the whole answer before it spoke. 20 tokens a second, gpu pinned at 125 watts, 4.25 of 6 gigs used. bonsai is a 1bit quant of qwen 3.6 27b, the king of the 3090 crushed to 3.5gb. turns out the hardware was in your drawer the whole time. you just needed the quant to catch up.show more

Sudo su
26,526 views • 3 months ago
I tested every Unsloth quant of Qwen3.8 27B on... canvas coding, and Q8 was NOT the winner 👀 Setup: 2 prompts: > growing tree animation > paper slicing) 3 runs each, across BF16 (Original) / UD-Q2_K_XL / UD-Q3_K_XL / UD-Q4_K_XL / UD-Q6_K_XL / UD-Q8_K_XL. 🌳 Growing tree test (successes out of 3): > BF16 — 3/3 > Q2 — 1/3 > Q3 — 3/3 > Q4 — 3/3 > Q6 — 3/3 > Q8 — 2/3 📄 Paper slice test (successes out of 3): > BF16 — 1/3 > Q2 — 0/3 > Q3 — 2/3 > Q4 — 2/3 > Q6 — 2/3 > Q8 — 1/3 Takeaway: "bigger quant = better" didn't hold here, Q8 underperformed Q4 and Q6 on both tests. If you're running this model locally, Q6/Q4 looks like the sweet spot: near-full quality at a fraction of the VRAM.show more

stevibe
82,190 views • 2 months ago
And finally, my 3D model of @Lord_Griselda's Medusa is... done! This was a lot of fun to do, I've actually had it finished for a couple of weeks, but I also had to finish the video for it, where I walk through the entire process which you can find below! #blender #b3dshow more

Niall
100,481 views • 2 years ago
Qwen 3.6 27b Bf16 vs Q4 Not cherry picked... first result from each, the prompt is from 𝗭𝗲𝗻 𝗠𝗮𝗴𝗻𝗲𝘁𝘀 check out his pinned post it's a great test! I did throw Q4 a bone and gen twice more.. 2nd was also all white and the third was an error. Qwen 27b has a lot of life in it still!show more

Loktar 🇺🇸
136,659 views • 3 months ago
today was the first time i was genuinely impressed... with what AI can do i recently decided to buy a whole FPV drone setup knowing basically nothing about the hardware side of it there's a pretty steep learning curve even just to set everything up properly: radios, RF protocols, flight controllers, ESCs, firmware, batteries, goggles, betaflight configs etc as someone that spends essentially 12h a day prompting agents to build software, it's actually pretty rare that i interact with AI on something where i have zero idea what's going on under the hood, and i never really used it for debugging a bunch of physical devices that all have to talk to each other i had codex + voice mode open for basically the entire setup. told it everything i bought, sent it some pics and then just started talking to it >what order do i set all this up in >how do i change this setting on the radio >which of these cables do i use >the drone is flashing pink wat mean >can you make this thing less insane to fly in my apartment and it was surprisingly seamless it would go find the manual for whatever specific thing i was holding, tell me exactly which buttons to press, what port to plug something into, what i should see if it worked etc then when i got to configuring the actual drone i had codex running on the computer it was plugged into, so it could inspect the config, back everything up, change settings, send usb reboot signals and check what happened the insane thing about voice mode is that youre literally hands on with the hardware and just telling codex what it should do, i literally never touched a thing on the computer besides starting voice mode if something doesn't work you tell it what happened and keep going a few hours of this and i had the radio, goggles, charger, batteries, drone firmware and betaflight all set up and had actually flown the thing the part that stuck with me is that i also understood what most of it was doing by the end, every time there was a term or tech i didnt understand id just ask to explain there is something absolutely magical about having proper real time personalized assistance, being able to dump a pile of unfamiliar hardware on your desk and have something figure out exactly what you own and walk through it with you in real time you become the missing physical link pressing the buttons i think spending all day using coding agents has actually made me pretty numb to AI progress. every new model is a bit better at some benchmark or can oneshot some task that the previous one couldn't and you just kinda adjust to it this felt different mostly because i had no existing knowledge to fall back on for the first time the jarvis comparison didn't feel cringe ai for coding and general computer tasks is cool and all but this feels a lot closer to the endgame anyone should be able to just ask any question about whats going on in their life and have realtime support i wonder if more hardware products will actually start exposing some sort of MCP or interface for agents to plug into thinking for example of how elevators in china are increasingly built with interfaces that let delivery robots call them directly instead of having to physically press a button we might actually start seeing hardware design shift from being purely human-interface-first to also being agent-interface-first buttons, screens and menus exist because humans need some way to tell machines what to do. agents don't necessarily need any of that if the hardware exposes an interface directly very curious which side closes the physical world gap first: humanoid robots that can operate hardware designed for humans, or hardware adapting so agents can operate it directlyshow more

ultra
18,297 views • 2 months ago
Without googling it… how many of you actually know... what a butter bell is? We’ve had one on our counter for years. I just learned what it does and how to use it. My wife made it very clear that I am a savage I might be but was wondering if I was the only oneshow more

John Asghar
651,923 views • 10 months ago
Alright I've never seen this model handle a storm... of this size, so not sure how well it will do...but for any who want an idea here is what the "Fox Model" is showing though 1pm Sunday (as far out as it goes). It does give you an idea of the scale of this system. Big time storm.show more

Mike Thomas
2,169,229 views • 9 months ago
After a few more hours, I think I've figured... out Opus 5. Opus 5 is trained to be more agentic than anything I've used. All Claude 5 models are like that. So what changes? The way to interact with Opus 5 or contextualize it won't work the same way as with other models. It loves exploring, so it doesn't need much guidance for it. Unique preferences, artifacts, and references compliment it well and enable cleaner and more effective exploration and execution. Now that it can explore more effectively on its own and understand intent better, the best thing to do is to get out of its way (e.g., it doesn't need examples of your preferences; a clear high-level description of it works best). It's truly agentic in that sense. A good first step to provide better context for Opus 5 is to distinguish between what's situational and what needs persistence. Regardless, persistent system prompts and CLAUDE.MD needs to stay lightweight. Remove memories and tool descriptions from these. CLAUDE.MD is also a great place to tap into progressive disclosure by linking command/skills to it. On the situational side, agent skills and auto-memory can leverage progressive disclosure and the improved ability of the model to use its external context/knowledge. Conflicting and unnecessary instructions, which are common at this layer (mainly to ensure reliability), are going to throw off this model easily. That's the biggest change I had to make. Simple, clean, and clear prompts and skills work best. I had to clean a lot of my skills and system prompts. The way I prompt remains the same (usually clear and well-scoped). MCP tool descriptions are also more descriptive and have been deduped from the system prompt. Anthropic released a guide on the new rules for context engineering, which was helpful here. I started to test the recommendations and created a little artifact with the things that worked along the way. This might feel like a lot of work. Believe me, it has been frustrating. But I think we can expect future frontier models to become more agentic and smarter at figuring out the right context/gaps. The best thing to do is to prepare for that now. Boris Cherny mentioned that Opus 5 is their least prompt-injectable model yet. I am not sure if that was something they intentionally trained for or if it emerged based on how it was trained, which is to be extremely agentic in nature and more direct in execution.show more

elvis
37,824 views • 3 months ago
Earlier today I was ironing some clients clothe with... the gas iron when I had the sudden urge to use the toilet. I turned off the gas and went to the toilet. I went about with other things when I came out thinking the iron was off. Next thing I heard was Mummy your table is burning. I rushed down to find that the gas was still on and I had only increased the heat instead of turning it off. What amazed me was that the rubber iron mat that came with it didn't burn but everything beneath it melted. Does anyone know the kind of material they use in making the mat? Alhamdullilah, what if it happened during the week when my kids are not around? Why is it so hard to fix the power problem in this country so we don't have to resort to endangering our lives trying to solve problems that we shouldn't be having in 2026? In all, Alhamdullilah.show more

Halimah Ahmed (Tiwal'adire)
123,766 views • 4 months ago
The reality of running a breeding facility. The entire... table on the right is every single plant is different. 60 of them. On the left is 8 varieties. Nothing is ever dialed in perfect per plant like a flower facility would be because we're Trying to work through so many plants in as short of a time as possible. I literally sent in whatever came down, regardless of my opinion of it (like I said on Ig, we'll see), because I didnt think it was all that great of a batch either. Some stuff kills it in a room like this while the thing right next to it gets fried. It just is what it is. If you don't understand that, that's fine. But its not like I bragged about how I'm sending in the most fire batch of a strain we've never run before. Also, the weed Adam was talking about we smoked after my episode down there, was Moonbow #112 where we actually ran a few lights of it and could cater to individual varietal demands. Growers get it, custies dont. No sweat.show more

Archive Seed Bank
19,443 views • 1 year ago
You guys, I am at a loss of words.... This """puzzle""" is literally as simple as match the symbol on the shield to the only other shield with a symbol, AND THE GAME STILL HAS AN NPC TELL YOU HOW TO DO IT. These developers think you have an IQ below that of a goldfish.show more

Narwitz
609,274 views • 2 years ago
What happens when an autonomous robotaxi gets into an... accident? So far, nothing. Yesterday, I rode in a Zoox robotaxi and got hit by an RTC bus in front of New York New York. The Zoox was trying to turn right into New York New York on Tropicana Avenue just after crossing Las Vegas Boulevard and the bus was trying to get over to make its stop. What I saw, was the RTC bus merging into the front left of the Zoox robotaxi and then a crunching sound followed by a grinding sound. Pretty sure it was the RTC bus at fault. Impact detected. The Zoox robotaxi stayed in place while a warning popped up on the user display. Zoox support came over the in-car speaker and asked if I was okay and then eventually had me exit the vehicle at the New York New York rideshare area. Then, it just took off. The RTC bus? It also took off. The driver never got out to check to see what happened. Loaded up some passengers and went about the day. Nobody stayed around to file a police report, so I did. The Nevada State Troopers are scratching their heads at what to do here and so am I. Now I have a lot of questions that won’t get answered probably. I am okay and not injured thankfully, just shaken up a bit. As far as riding Zoox again, I feel it is safe to ride and highly recommend trying it out if you haven’t. On a side note: The Zoox took the hit pretty well and I couldn’t see damage when I checked it out. The bus had a nice scrape on its right wheel fender. I will keep you all updated on this.show more

Chris Holmes
94,687 views • 8 months ago
Critical Disengagement on FSD v14.3.7. Context: The car needed... to leave the parking garage and go to HEB. It started from the second floor, made its way to the top floor, and I believe it tried to find a path through this metal wire fence. If it had gone through that, it was a 6 story drop to the ground. In the dashcam clip, it is clearly visible. You can see the car is at 4 mph throughout the whole turn and is not slowing down. It wasn't trying to park because the route was set to leave the parking garage, not park in it. Either way, driving at 4 mph inches from the fencing is not okay. I have an interior GoPro recording of the whole situation. It actually tried to drive into the fencing again after I restarted FSD. In thread 👇 Obviously since I disengaged, we don't know what it truly would have done. Maybe it would have made contact and stopped. This was as far as I was going to take it as someone responsible for the vehicle, so I believe this disengagement was fair. I was not expecting something like this as the latest versions of FSD are exceptionally safe. Tesla Ashok Elluswamy Elon Muskshow more

Aryan Butala
922,387 views • 2 months ago
The discourse around the Eze penalty last night is... fascinating. If nothing else it provides Arteta with an excuse as to how his team has been hard done by and robbed. He loves excuses. It’s a fascinating situation because I actually think the right outcome was reached albeit through the wrong process. Once given on the field under the current rules it shouldn't have been overturned. For that Arsenal can feel aggrieved. Don't forget Arsenal were the beneficiaries of an incredibly soft penalty in Leverkusen. It wasn’t overturned. I find the attached video interesting because it clearly shows how minimal the contact is. The defender doesn’t pin Ezes foot to the ground. Doesn’t smash into it. It brushes down the side of it. It’s where the still pictures of it were wildly misleading. Are we really saying that contact such as that is worthy of a penalty? What’s clear in the video is that Eze has absolutely made the most of the slight contact. I love the straight left leg. A very natural position. It’s a brilliant dive and normally it would have been rewarded. By saying that is a stone wall penalty all we are doing is encouraging such theatrics and cheating. Whenever you hear the words “that was clever” by a commentator they are intimating the player has cheated/made the most of it. We complain about refs all the time but what chance do they have when players are doing stuff like this. Until players are punished properly there is no disincentive for players to keep doing this stuff. I also find it fascinating when you have a foot brushed like this. When you compare it to all the holding/pushing/grappling at other times. Sometimes a contact sport and others not. Is this really what football has become?show more

Luke Paton
104,573 views • 6 months ago
The good news: you can mid-train yourself to the... frontier! At a fraction of the cost! Without distillation! What we did: We took Qwen3.5 14B and mid- and post-trained it to beat every other open model and perform as well as the very best frontier models. This is no simple toy task or format fixing, we are training the model to understand and reason over DNA sequences. Bio is the next frontier for AI and universal access will be crucial to make progress. The fun part: because we train the model on both natural language and DNA sequences you can actually 'chat to your DNA': Ask it questions, ponder the impact of mutations, or ask it to generate a small sequence. We'll soon see the frontier labs move away from math and cyber towards bio. It already started, and we believe researchers should have access to capable models. We are releasing the full recipe, so you can do it, too! Model: Blog:show more

Leandro von Werra
81,144 views • 23 days ago
Blind cats don't know they're supposed to be helpless.... That's the first thing nobody tells you. We look at an animal whose eyes have clouded over and we feel the floor drop out from under our own feet, because we imagine our own darkness: the stumbling, the panic, the hands out in front of us. We project. A cat does not. A cat has a completely different relationship with the room it lives in, and that gap between what we fear for them and what they actually experience is where this whole story lives. Here is the part that makes me stop scrolling every time I see it. Sight is not the foundation of a cat's world. It's one tool in a kit, and for a creature built to hunt in half-light, it's not even the sharpest one. Cats see poorly up close. They struggle to focus on anything inside a few inches of their nose. Their eyes are built for movement at dusk, not for reading the fine print of a hallway. So when the sight goes, the cat doesn't lose its world. It loses one translator of it. And then comes the question that this video is quietly built around: what happens when someone decides that one translator isn't enough? What do you build for an animal that can't tell you what it needs, can't read instructions, and has strong opinions about anything that touches its face? I'm not going to tell you the answer. I want to tell you why the question matters more than it looks. Think about how a cat actually moves through a house. Not how we imagine it. How it truly does it. The whiskers, for starters. Those aren't decoration. Each one is rooted far deeper in the skin than an ordinary hair, wrapped in a dense network of nerves, and they work as living radar. A cat reads air currents bouncing off a wall before its nose ever reaches it. It reads the width of a gap before committing its shoulders to the squeeze. Whiskers also sit on the backs of the front legs, which is why a cat knows what's under its paws without looking down. It is a body wired for touch at a distance. Then the nose. Cats carry on the order of two hundred million scent receptors, versus roughly five million in a person. Every doorway has a smell. Every chair leg has a history. Your cat doesn't just know where the couch is. It knows who sat there yesterday, what they ate, and whether they were stressed. Then the ears. Each one swivels independently, driven by a small army of muscles, and the hearing range runs far beyond ours. A cat can locate a rustle to within a few inches in total darkness. Now stack those three together and add the thing that quietly matters most: memory. Cats build a map of their home the way a sailor learns a coastline. Where the table legs are. How many steps it takes from the water bowl to the window. Which floorboard is cold in the morning. A map like that survives the loss of eyesight. Which is exactly why so many blind cats seem fine for a while. Sometimes for years. But "fine" is doing a lot of work in that sentence. Because a map is only as good as the world staying put. Move one chair and the cat's confidence doesn't just dip, it can collapse. Carry a laundry basket into a hallway that was empty all week. Leave a shoe where a shoe has never been. The cat's whole internal model, the thing it trusted more than any single sense, gets a hole punched in it. And what does a smart, careful animal do when its map can't be trusted? It slows down. It starts keeping to the walls. It stops jumping to the places it loved. That's the quiet cost nobody measures. Not the bump on the head. The shrinking. A cat that used to cross a room like it was late for an appointment now crosses it like it's walking on ice. And the people who love that cat watch the shrinking happen and don't know what to do with their hands. Let me tell you about the thing that makes this so hard to see coming. Cats are professionals at hiding weakness. It's an old survival habit, written deep into the species: in the wild, the animal that looks vulnerable becomes the animal that gets picked off. So a cat that is losing its sight will often behave as though nothing is happening. It will time its steps to familiar rhythms. It will follow the sound of the kibble bag. It will bluff. Vets often point out that owners of senior cats discover vision loss late, sometimes only when the house changes and the cat suddenly can't cope. A new rug. A guest's suitcase. A cat who walks into a door that has been open a hundred times before. And here's the part that deserves to be said plainly, because it's the one place in this story where waiting can cost something. Vision loss in a cat is not always just "getting old." Conditions like high blood pressure, retinal problems, glaucoma, cataracts, infections, and injuries can all take sight, and some of them are treatable if they're caught early. Sudden changes, such as eyes that look cloudy overnight, pupils that look unusually wide, a cat suddenly bumping into things, or a cat that seems disoriented, are worth a prompt call to a veterinarian. Not next month. This week. That's the medical truth. It's not the interesting part of this story. The interesting part starts after the diagnosis, in the long stretch of ordinary days where an animal has to decide whether to trust the world again. Because this is what separates a blind cat who thrives from a blind cat who withdraws: not the eyes. The nerve. I keep returning to that word because it shows up in both senses. The optic nerve, the thing that carries the picture. And the other kind. The willingness to step forward when you can't see where your foot is going. Every blind animal is running a constant, silent negotiation with risk. Do I go to the food bowl or wait for it to be brought? Do I jump onto the windowsill or sit in the hallway? Each step is a bet. Lose enough bets and an animal stops placing them. So the people who share their homes with blind animals end up becoming amateur engineers almost by accident. They tape down a loose rug corner. They learn to leave the furniture exactly where it is, even when a friend says the room would look better rearranged. They sprinkle a little vanilla by a doorway, a little lavender by the stairs, so the nose can add labels to the map. They clap softly before they walk in, because a startled blind cat is a cat who just lost a few weeks of progress. None of it is dramatic. All of it is love expressed as logistics. And then, somewhere in that world of tiny adaptations, somebody asks a question that sounds almost silly until you think about it. What if the cat could have a way to feel an obstacle before it arrives? Not a gadget with a screen. Not a leash. Something that works with an animal's own instincts instead of fighting them. Because there's a trap in every idea like this, and it's the trap that kills most well-meaning pet inventions: humans design for what makes humans feel better. We buy the thing that calms our worry. Then the cat looks at it, looks at us, and quietly decides that it will be wearing nothing at all, thank you. Anyone who has tried to put a collar on a cat that didn't want a collar knows exactly what I mean. Cats don't negotiate. They don't pretend. If something is annoying, they will find the one position on the planet in which it becomes impossible to ignore, freeze in it, and stare at you with the disappointment of a retired judge. So the real test of any aid for a blind cat isn't whether it looks clever to us. It's whether the cat will walk in it. Walk. Not tolerate. Not sit rigid like a statue until someone takes it off. Actually move, the way it moved before, with the kind of looseness that you can't fake and can't coach. That's an extremely high bar. Hold on to it, because we'll come back to it. First, I want to talk about the other side of the equation. The humans. There is a particular kind of person who ends up with a blind senior cat. Not always, but often. Many of them didn't plan it. They adopted a healthy animal, years ago, and the animal aged beside them through apartment moves and job changes and bad winters. Or they took in an older cat precisely because nobody else wanted one. Senior animals sit in shelters far longer than kittens. A cat with a medical label sits longer still. Anyone who has walked past a row of cages knows the quiet arithmetic that happens: small, soft, and young goes first. A blind cat, on paper, is a hard sell. "Special needs." Two words that make a lot of people take a half step backward. And yet. Ask anyone who lives with one and you'll hear a version of the same sentence, delivered with a slightly embarrassed shrug: they're honestly easier than I expected. They don't pace the window waiting for the bird. They don't get distracted. They are tuned to your voice in a way that sighted cats sometimes aren't, because your voice is a landmark. Your footsteps are a landmark. The sound of the can opener is practically a lighthouse. A blind cat doesn't just live in your house. It lives in your presence, mapping its safety to the sound of your life. That's a heavy kind of trust, if you stop and feel its weight. You become the fixed point in somebody's world. And I think that's what pulls people toward videos like this one. We're not really moved by the cat. Or not only. We're moved by the glimpse of the other half of the relationship: a person at a kitchen table at night, doing research, comparing materials, trying things that don't work, and then trying again. Taking an animal's limitation personally, and then refusing to leave it alone. There's a quiet radicalism in that. The world has a very clear opinion about which lives are worth the extra effort. It is expressed in the price of a procedure, in the line at the shelter, in the sentence that begins with "well, at his age." Most of us have heard that sentence or said it. It's not cruelty. It's a reflex. It's what we say to make a hard thing feel finished. The person who builds something instead is answering that sentence. Without arguing. Without a speech. By sitting down with a problem and refusing the reflex. I find that more persuasive than any slogan. Now, let's be honest about the limits, because a story that only flatters is a story that deserves less of your trust. Not every blind animal adapts at the same speed. Some take weeks to rebuild their confidence, some take months, some never quite return to the person they were. A cat who loses sight slowly over years has often had time to build a map in advance. A cat who loses sight suddenly may be in shock, and shock looks like withdrawal. It would be a lie to say that a clever piece of equipment fixes all of it. Nothing fixes all of it. And there's a risk in the other direction, too. The more we celebrate a good solution, the more pressure builds on the owners who haven't found theirs. People watch these clips late at night, feeling like they're failing an animal who is perfectly fine, and who might be perfectly happy with a stable room and a patient person. So I'm careful with the claim I'm making. I'm not telling you this video solves blindness. I'm telling you it shows something about what happens when imagination meets an animal's real, specific, unpredictable needs. And what happens next isn't the part I can summarize for you, because the whole point is that you have to see how the cat answers. Because that's the thing about animals. They are the only honest critics left. A person will tell you your idea is wonderful to spare your feelings. A cat will simply refuse to move. When a cat does move, that is the review. Let me widen the lens for a minute, because there's something older than pet products hiding inside this story. Every tool ever invented for people who can't see is, at its root, an attempt to do one thing: push the reach of touch farther than the body allows. A cane is a very long fingertip. It lets a person feel a curb two steps before the curb arrives. Some blind people go further and learn to click their tongues and listen to the echoes, building a sound-picture of the room. It sounds like a superpower and it's really a discipline. Brains that lose one channel tend to lean harder on the others, and with practice they can read in them what the missing channel used to say. A cat already owns the original version of that technology. It grows it out of its face. Whiskers are, in effect, a cat's built-in cane. They're believed to be roughly as wide as the cat's own body, which is part of why a cat can look at a gap and know without calculation whether it fits. They fan forward when a cat is curious and press back when it's cornered. In the dark they are doing math the rest of us can't see. So here's the question that I can't stop turning over. If whiskers already do that work, how much room is there for anything else? If a cat has spent its entire life reading the world with its own face, what could possibly be added that wouldn't just be noise? The answer, I suspect, is: only something that respects the face. Something that gives the whiskers, the head, the body one more small, clear signal at the exact moment the world has turned unreliable. A signal that comes early enough to matter. A signal that doesn't feel like a restraint. A signal that the cat can ignore the second it doesn't need it. Easy to say. Brutally hard to build. And I'm not going to pretend I know how it was solved, because I'd rather you see the answer arrive on its own terms than hear me announce it. What I can tell you is what it means when it works. It means a cat that has been told for months, by a dozen small bumps, that the world is dangerous, receives its first quiet piece of evidence that it might not be. And an animal's confidence doesn't come back in a rush. It comes back the way a tide comes in: you stand there and think nothing is happening, and then you notice your feet are wet. There's something else I want to say about that, because it's the part I think about long after the clip is over. When we mourn for a blind animal, we are mostly mourning for ourselves. For the loss of the cat that watched the birds. For the end of the version of the pet that we first met. We are grieving a story, and the cat is not in the story. The cat is in the room. As far as anyone can tell, animals live remarkably close to the present tense. A cat doesn't lie awake missing the way the light used to fall across the carpet. It wakes up, it listens, it smells, it works out what is happening now, and it starts moving. There's a lesson in that which is almost embarrassing to say out loud: the cat is not suffering from the loss of sight nearly as much as it is suffering from the loss of predictability. Give the animal back predictability, and a large part of the suffering lifts. Which is exactly the kind of insight that makes you look at your own life sideways. How much of what we call grief is really the loss of predictability? How much of what we call fear is really a missing landmark? It's not only cats, of course. Dogs lose their sight too, often in the same slow way. Many sniff their way through the transition, trusting their noses and their people. Dogs tend to be louder about the confusion: they bump, they startle, they stand still in the middle of a hallway as if someone paused the world. But they seem to rebuild the same way cats do, one familiar object at a time, until the house becomes a place they can read again. The pattern across species is surprisingly consistent. Remove one sense and the animal doesn't collapse. It reorganizes. It's the same quiet stubbornness that gets any living thing through winter. And the work of the humans around them is to make that reorganization less lonely. That's all. Not to fix. To accompany. There's a version of caring that wants to fix, and a version that wants to accompany, and they are very different animals. The fixer needs the problem to disappear so the discomfort disappears with it. The companion can sit inside a difficult thing and still be useful. Most of the people who thrive with a blind or aging pet end up learning to be the second kind, usually by failing as the first. Let me clear away a few myths, because they do real damage, and because a story about blindness is a good place to say them out loud. Myth one: a blind pet is a suffering pet. Blindness on its own is not necessarily painful, and many animals adjust to it far better than their owners expect. Some causes of vision loss, glaucoma for one, can be painful, which is one more reason a veterinarian should look at any change in the eyes. But the loss of sight itself is not the same thing as misery. Plenty of blind cats eat, groom, play, purr, and demand attention at four in the morning with undiminished authority. Myth two: it's kinder not to try. This is the one that worries me most. It's usually said by someone trying to be gentle, and it lands on an owner who is already exhausted. But "kinder" is a judgment about the animal's inner life, and we are not in a position to make that call by looking at the eyes alone. The better questions are the ordinary ones. Is the animal eating? Moving? Engaging? Responding to affection? Free from pain? A veterinarian can help weigh those. Blindness alone is not the answer to any of them. Myth three: you have to rearrange your life. Not really. You mostly have to stop rearranging it. The great gift you can give a blind animal is consistency. Keep the water where it was. Keep the litter where it was. Keep the chair where the chair was. Let the house become a stable language again. Myth four: they can't play. Anyone who has watched a blind cat hunt a toy that makes noise knows how quickly that one falls apart. The brain does not care which sense delivers the chase. Myth five, and the quietest: there's nothing you can do. That's the myth I wish more people would examine, because it's the one that turns love into helplessness. There's almost always something. It might be small. It might be a smell on a doorframe, a rug that grips, a word you say before you touch. The size of the thing is not the point. The point is that the cat can feel somebody has been thinking about it. And here's what strikes me: that last sentence is true for people, too. Think about the people in your life who are going quiet at the edges. A grandparent whose hearing is going. A friend who has stopped driving at night. A parent who has started saying "I'm fine" a little too fast. What they need, more often than a solution, is evidence that someone has been thinking about the problem from their side of it. Designers call this empathy and put it in a slide deck. Animals call it Tuesday. I think that's why content like this travels. Not because it's cute. Plenty of cute things come and go in a day. It travels because it hands the viewer a feeling that's hard to find anywhere else on a screen: the feeling that attention, applied patiently to a small problem, can change what a day feels like for another living being. Most of the feed is built to do the opposite. It's built to make you react, then move on. This is the rare thing that makes you want to do something, even if the something is only to look closer at the animal sleeping on your own couch and notice that it is, actually, still here. I want to be careful, though, because there's a lazy way to talk about this and I'd like to avoid it. The lazy way says: look how inspiring. A cat overcame its disability. A human saved the day. Neither of those framings is quite right. The cat didn't overcome anything in the dramatic, cinematic sense. It adapted, the way animals have always adapted, because adapting is the only option on offer. And the human didn't save the day. The human made a day a little easier. Those are smaller claims than the internet likes. They are also truer. And true things have a strange staying power. You can feel the difference. So what is this video, exactly? It isn't a rescue in the sense of fire trucks and rope. Nobody dangles from a cliff. There's no villain, no clock, no swelling music. Whatever is at stake is quieter than that and, I'd argue, more universal: the stake is one animal's willingness to take the next step into a room it can't see. That's it. That's the whole drama. And yet I've watched people who are completely immune to dramatic footage go very still during this kind of moment. I think it's because everyone has, at some point, stood at the edge of a dark room, holding something that might help or might not, wondering whether to trust it. If you've ever lived with an animal that's getting old, you know a particular quiet fear. It doesn't arrive as a crisis. It arrives as an accumulation. A little less jumping. A little more sleeping. A little hesitation at the top of the stairs. One day you realize you've been planning your whole house around a smaller and smaller version of the animal you adopted, and you haven't said it to anyone. That fear is one of the most common and least discussed experiences of loving a pet. People carry it alone because it feels disloyal to say it out loud. As if naming the decline might speed it up. So when someone shows a way to push that decline back, even by an inch, it matters far beyond the product or the platform. It says: you are allowed to try. You are allowed to be inventive about this. The ending isn't written on the first bad day. I want to say something about senior animals specifically, because they've been on my mind. We celebrate beginnings in a way that's almost ridiculous. The kitten photo gets a thousand likes before breakfast. But the animals who've been with us for ten, fourteen, sixteen years have earned something the kittens haven't yet: a shared history. They know the sound of your key. They know which of your moods is the one to avoid. They've watched you through a breakup, a move, a layoff, a loss. They are, in a very real sense, witnesses. And witnesses deserve care when their own eyes begin to fail. That's the emotional math underneath all of this, and it's why these small clips of small solutions hit harder than they should. We aren't only watching a cat. We are watching a debt being paid. The animal gave years of presence, and now, finally, someone is giving something back in the only currency it can read. Is it sentimental? Of course. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. But sentiment isn't the enemy of truth. Sometimes it's the only instrument sensitive enough to detect it. Now, a few practical words, because it would be strange to talk this much about blind pets and say nothing useful. If your cat or dog seems to be losing vision, see a vet. Soon. Some causes are treatable and time-sensitive, and only an exam can tell the difference. If vision loss is confirmed, consistency is your best tool. Don't move the furniture. Keep food, water, and litter in the same places. Talk as you approach so you never surprise them. Use scent and texture as signposts: a different mat at the top of the stairs, a dab of a safe, pet-friendly scent near a doorway. Block off stairs and drops until you're sure they've learned them. Give them time. Then give them more time. And let them be braver than you expect. Over-protecting an animal can be its own kind of cage. That's the advice. The rest is attention. It's worth noticing how little time this takes. The whole thing runs about fourteen seconds, shorter than most of the ads you scrolled past this morning. Yet it carries a full arc: a problem, a risk, a decision, and a result that no caption can fully hold. Short videos usually trade depth for speed. Every so often, one manages to keep both, and those are the ones worth sending to the one person who will understand exactly why you sent it. Which brings me back to the bar I mentioned earlier, the one I said we'd return to. The bar of whether an animal will actually walk, not merely tolerate. Whether it will move with the looseness you can't fake. I think that's the most honest test of any act of care, human or otherwise. Not whether the person receiving it says thank you. Whether they move differently afterward. Whether their shoulders drop. Whether they take the step. Each step, taken freely, can say more about trust than anything an animal could ever put into words. I won't tell you how this one ends. The video is short, and anything I said would only stand between you and the moment itself. But I'll tell you what to watch for, and it's not what's on the surface. Watch the way the animal decides. Not the object. Not the hands. The deciding. There is a flicker in it, a half-second where trust is either extended or withheld, and I haven't been able to shake it. It's the same flicker that happens in all of us when we've been hurt by the dark before and someone offers us a light we've never tried. Some of us don't take it. Some of us do. Go and see which kind of animal this is.show more

Earth Unveiled
1,296,087 views • 8 days ago
WhisperX uses a 378MB model to time English words.... Align does it in 0.7MB. Give it any transcript and it corrects each word’s start and end time against the audio, so captions highlight every word exactly as it’s spoken. On 258 word boundaries checked by hand, Align was off by 45ms on average. WhisperX was off by 53.5ms.show more

Desert Ant Labs
22,687 views • 17 days ago
Reading the comments on this post told me everything... I need to know about art. So many of you wrote to say you felt the exact same thing I did standing in front of the Starry Night. That strange pull, the sense that the painting is somehow alive... It turns out the feeling is completely universal. I am not someone who gets emotional easily. But every so often a piece of art really gets to me. And that is exactly what happened the first time i walked up to Van Gogh's magnum opus. I know how that sounds, it is one of the most famous paintings on earth, almost a cliché to be moved by it. But maybe it is that famous for a reason... It genuinely looks like it is moving while you stand there, shifting in a way I cannot explain and have never seen in any of the thousands of paintings I have looked at in my life. The same day I took the photo below, I also filmed this short video. It still comes nowhere near the real thing, but you can at least catch a little more of it here, the thick ridges of paint, the way the stars and swirls lift right off the canvas. This technique is called "impasto", from the Italian for mixture. It means paint laid on so thickly that every brushstroke and ridge stays visible on the surface. Van Gogh piled it on with a loaded brush, building the stars up thick so they would blaze as bright as possible against the dark. But no video and no explanation of technique can really convey what it feels like to stand in front of it. And the fact that so many of you felt the very same thing says something true about what art is really for. Tolstoy said it best: "The receiver of a true artistic impression is so united to the artist that he feels as if the work were his own and not someone else’s, as if what it expresses were just what he had long been wishing to express. A real work of art destroys, in the consciousness of the receiver, the separation between himself and the artist. In this uniting of it with others lies the great attractive force of art."show more

James Lucas
57,859 views • 2 months ago