This blog has gone through a few technical iterations. Most recently: from a Laravel app with Sheets, to a static site with Hugo, to a CMS-driven site with Statamic. And now, back to Hugo!

I love Hugo. It’s purposefully built with the right abstractions, and incredibly fast. The kind of fast that makes you wonder why other software can be that fast. Fast software, the best software. But the templating language… it might be an acquired taste, but I never acquired it. Updating my theme or adding a custom page was always a chore. I got tired of it. Coincidentally, I wanted to experiment with more dynamic workflows on here (posting to social media, more control over scheduling…) so I migrated to Statamic (a lovely CMS!)

Fast forward three years and a blogging hiatus, and I started to crave the simplicity of the good old static site. Having a dynamic system was fun, but it requires maintenance and having it made me realize I didn’t need it. Add to that we’ve commoditized robots building things for us, and switching back to Hugo was the right move. A single prompt and 15 minutes later, my entire blog was translated from Statamic to Hugo. The best part: I don’t need to care about the templates anymore. Sure, I’ll dive in occasionally for some surgical styling tweaks. But generally, changes are handled with a quick prompt.

GitHub pings my webserver to auto-deploy on push. Scheduling is solved by running the deploy script every hour. As a static site, everything’s fast by default and there are almost no points of failure. Life is simple. All that remains is to write!

I have a blank canvas problem. I’m way better at staying in flow when I have something to work through, so these days, the first thing I do is ramble.

I open Codex or Spiral, turn on Monologue (my preferred text-to-speech tool), and dump everything I can think of on the topic. Before Monologue, I never considered typing speed to be a bottleneck. My fingers move faster than the speed I shape ideas. But when I want to vomit a bunch of unstructured thoughts onto a canvas, they suddenly feel slow and error-prone.

Instead, I can start a task by talking through it to generate a transcript. Then I ask an agent to structure my ramblings (the other day, the agent responded with “Your brain dump is rich."—probably the nicest compliment I’ve ever gotten from a robot!). This gives me a great starting point to really dig into the problem. Before I know it, I will have rewritten all that rambling into coherent a string of thought.

I still can’t shake the dystopian feeling of talking to my computer. But text-to-speech has made some tasks feel so natural, I almost can’t imagine working without it anymore.

I wrote a piece on the Spatie blog about the place packages/library have in the ecosystem when first-party code is cheaper than ever with AI.

Scrolling to the end:

The question before every composer require is no longer “is there a package for this?” Almost certainly there is. The new question is: “do I want to own this problem?”

This thought came across my mind as I was reading Every’s philosophy on compound engineering:

The first three steps (plan, work, review) produce a feature. The fourth step produces a system that builds features better each time. […]

• Capture the solution. Ask yourself: What worked? What didn’t? What’s the reusable insight?
• Make it findable. Add YAML frontmatter to make sure it is tagged with the right metadata, tags, and categories for retrieval.
• Update the system. Add new patterns into CLAUDE.md, the file the agent reads at the start of every session. Create new agents when warranted.
• Verify the learning. Ask yourself: Would the system catch this automatically next time?

As virtuous developers we try to adhere to the boyscout rule: leave the campsite better than you found it. We do this so our codebase doesn’t start rotting because we slowly let the trash take over.

When agents are writing our code, these effects are multiplied. Every time we make an explicit improvement to the system, agents can pick the pattern up and apply it to both old and new. The campsite will slowly but surely start cleaning itself up, and fresh trash will be thrown straight into the bin.

Andy Matuschak’s notes on working in public. Reading this post was part of the spark that got me blogging again.