The original Hollow Knight just got an update to fix a glitch with a final boss

Team Cherry just fixed a bug with the original Hollow Knight, according to a report by GamesRadar. That game came out a full nine years ago, so it's pretty impressive that the dev team is still cranking out updates.

Spoilers follow, but it's been nine years so whatever. The update involves a glitch regarding an attack from The Radiance, one of the final bosses of the game. At later stages, she tosses out these honing balls of light. These are difficult to avoid on their own, but a glitch made it so the balls of light occasionally lingered in the air after finishing. This added yet another way for the player to take some damage and led to numerous unnecessary deaths.

This has now been fixed. The patch notes say the developers "fixed Radiance's orb attack hitbox lingering slightly longer than intended if the orb expires in the air." This is great news for brand-new players and frustrating news to people who have been trying to avoid those lingering orbs for the better part of a decade. Better late than never, right?

We don't know why the company tackled this particular issue right now. It could be that the success of the long-awaited sequel, Hollow Knight: Silksong, has been driving new players to the original release. It's also possible they just now got around to it. Today's patch includes other stuff, like raising the volume when navigating the inventory and adding more journal notification icons. Team Cherry isn't Ubisoft or Nintendo. It's a relatively small team.

The team has been pumping out updates for Silksong as well. Team Cherry recently added traditional Chinese and German language options, which had become a sticking point for some. It's also busy working on the game's first major DLC expansion, called Sea of Sorrow.

This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/gaming/the-original-hollow-knight-just-got-an-update-to-fix-a-glitch-with-a-final-boss-173533993.html?src=rss

This E Ink Wisephone Has No Camera, No App Store, No Social Media

Smartphones have become something of a paradox. The more capable they get, the less in control we feel. Notifications pull us in every direction, social feeds demand constant attention, and app stores offer thousands of things we never asked for. For all the technology packed into these slim glass rectangles, they’ve stopped being tools we use and started being systems we manage.

That tension is exactly what Berlin-based architect Marko Lazić sat with one afternoon in 2016, waiting for a friend at a coffee shop with his phone battery nearly dead. He sketched an idea, one that took years to develop but eventually became Offone, a 3D-printed phone with an E Ink display that he calls a “wisephone.” Not a dumbphone, and certainly not a smartphone, but something deliberately in between.

Designer: Marko Lazic

The first thing that catches your attention is how unassuming Offone is. Its 3D-printed body is slim enough to slip into a wallet alongside your cards and fits in the palm without effort. White, monochrome, and clean, the E Ink touchscreen looks more like paper than a display. The side bezels are practically nonexistent, while the top and bottom house the usual earpiece and microphone.

The E Ink display is a practical choice as much as an aesthetic one. It means no screen glare, no blue light, and no eye strain from prolonged use. Reading a text or checking a contact feels like glancing at a printed page. Lazić also considered night use, suggesting optional backlighting so the phone remains usable in the dark without disrupting sleep the way most backlit screens tend to do.

Lazić’s approach to the interface is as intentional as the hardware. Instead of text labels, Offone uses universal symbols to represent its apps, meaning navigating the phone doesn’t require knowing any particular language. It’s a small detail but a telling one, reflecting a philosophy where clarity and accessibility come before convention. The only time you type letters is when writing a message or searching for a contact.

The app selection is just as deliberate. You get calls, SMS, Google Maps, Waze, Uber, and messaging platforms like WhatsApp, but nothing else. No camera, no app store, no social feeds. Imagine getting through a travel day, navigating an unfamiliar city, calling ahead to a hotel, and ordering a ride, all without once falling into the scroll. For frequent travelers and the easily distracted, that’s a meaningful trade-off.

Even the hardware choices are guided by this spirit of restraint. At least one prototype shows no ports at all, meaning charging would be wireless and headphone connectivity handled over Bluetooth. It’s a cleaner device in every sense, free from the usual tangle of cables. The E Ink display also dramatically reduces power consumption, pushing battery life well past what most smartphones manage in a day.

Offone never reached production. Lazić wrote about the startup’s collapse in a 2022 Medium post, pointing to a mix of ambition, poor team choices, and a lack of funding as the reasons it fell apart. Development halted that same year after the team disbanded, leaving it an intriguing concept that was perhaps just a few years ahead of the minimalist phone movement it helped inspire.

The post This E Ink Wisephone Has No Camera, No App Store, No Social Media first appeared on Yanko Design.

CA-T Traps Your Phone Like a Cassette Tape So You Can Actually Focus

The problem with focus apps isn’t that they don’t work. It’s that the thing running them is also running Instagram, YouTube, and every group chat you’ve ever been in. The phone stays in your hand, the timer ticks, and the notifications stack up at the edge of your vision. CA-T is a concept that treats this as a hardware problem rather than a willpower problem, and the solution it proposes is surprisingly literal.

Taking inspiration from an age before smartphones, the CA-T is a compact desktop device shaped like a cassette player. Your smartphone is the tape. Slot it into the bay on top of the device, and the study session starts. The concept’s own framing is direct about this: the mobile phone, once a source of distraction, becomes the condition for activation. The device doesn’t operate at all until the phone is inserted.

Designers: Hyunwoo Jung, Minsu Kang, Yehoon Cho, Yoonchae Kim

Once docked, the phone charges wirelessly while the session runs. The circular display on the front face of the device shows a timer, but with a specific and deliberate framing: it visualizes the accumulation of focus rather than the countdown of remaining time. The reel graphic rotates as the session progresses, showing how much you’ve built up rather than how much you have left. That’s a small but meaningful reframe of what a study timer is supposed to communicate.

The session moves through four states. Ready prompts the user to insert their phone. Focus runs the timer as the reel turns. Comment delivers brief encouragement during the session, minimal by design, intended not to interrupt but to sustain. Complete shows the accumulated result, offering a record of consistency rather than just a signal that time is up. The physical controls are kept sparse: a prominent blue button on top, two secondary white ones, a volume slider, and a headphone jack along the bottom edge.

The cassette reference earns its place here beyond the obvious nostalgia. A tape only plays when it’s loaded, and loading it is an unambiguous act; there’s no passive way to start. The design applies the same logic to starting a study session, using physical insertion as a commitment mechanism. The design also addresses what it calls “the pressure of having to start,” framing the gesture of inserting the phone as lower-friction than opening an app and navigating past whatever else is waiting on the screen.

CA-T is a concept, with no announced production timeline or pricing. What it puts on the table is a specific question: does the ritual of physically committing your phone to a device change your relationship to the session that follows? The wireless charging detail suggests the designers thought carefully about removing objections. You won’t need your phone back because it’s running out of battery. You’ll need it back because you chose to reach for it.

The post CA-T Traps Your Phone Like a Cassette Tape So You Can Actually Focus first appeared on Yanko Design.

The AI Doc explores how we can survive an uncertain AI future 

Anxiety, more so than technological rigor, sits at the heart of The AI Doc: Or How I Became an Apocaloptimist. Director Daniel Roher is anxious about the future he's bringing a child into — will it be an AI-driven utopia? Or does it spell certain doom, something explored in countless sci-fi stories. To figure it all out, he interviewed some of the most well known AI proponents and critics, including The Empire of AI author Karen Hao, AI researcher Emily Bender and Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei.  

The AI Doc, which hits theaters this weekend, doesn't really shed new light. For that, I'd recommend reading Hao's industry-defining book, which chronicles the rise of OpenAI and the precarious nature of its business. But I don't think tech-heads are the main audience for this film. Instead, Roher is trying to break down the state of AI for mainstream audiences, the folks who may occasionally use ChatGPT or Google's Gemini, but aren't aware of why they're controversial. In particular, the film exposes the near-religious devotion many in the tech world have around AI. 

It's not a spoiler to say that Roher ultimately adopts an "apocaloptimist" viewpoint. He's aware of the potential dangers of AI, and that it will likely have some serious societal impact. But, he also thinks humans have the ability to shape where it's headed. AI proponents have a near-religious belief in the eventuality of artificial general intelligence (AGI), or AI that can match and surpass human capabilities. But AGI isn’t inevitable, and Roher argues there’s room for critics and the public to push back. 

We’re seeing small examples of AI resistance already. Just look at the viscerally negative response to NVIDIA's DLSS 5 AI upscaling; Microsoft's recent plans to pull back on Copilot AI features in Windows 11; or OpenAI shutting down its Sora AI video generation app. (The latter may be due to the sheer expense, but Sora has certainly seen plenty of criticism.) If enough people say no to various implementations of AI, tech companies will be likely to respond.

Daniel Roher in The AI Doc.
Daniel Roher in The AI Doc.
Focus Features

The AI Doc splits its narrative between true believers — like OpenAI CEO Sam Altman and Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei — and prominent AI critics — like Tristan Harris, the co-founder and president of the Center of Humane Technology, as well as linguistics professor Emily M. Bender. It's easy to feel a bit of whiplash when the film moves from people who genuinely think AI will lead to some sort of utopia (and who will also become insanely rich in the process), and the extreme critics who think it will mean the end of humanity. At one point, Harris mentions that some of his friends working in AI risk assessment believe that their kids "won't see high school." There's that anxiety again. 

While The AI Doc squeezes an impressive amount of notable interviews in its hour-and-43-minute runtime, I would have liked to hear more from critics like Timnit Gebru, a former Google AI researcher who also ties the development of AI into a rise of "techno-fascism" in Silicon Valley. She appears briefly in the film, but her perspective isn't fully fleshed out. The AI Doc doesn't dig very deeply into the driving forces behind AI, whereas Ghost in the Machine, this year's other major AI documentary, draws a direct line between the rise of eugenics and Silicon Valley. (Ghost in the Machine is headed to theaters this summer, and will air on PBS in the fall.) 

It's the sort of energetic, animation-heavy documentary that wants to make sure the audience is never bored. But the threat of AI deserves more nuance and critical scrutiny. At worst, The AI Doc may make more people question the value of AI as the tech industry becomes more desperate to make it a success.

This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/entertainment/tv-movies/the-ai-doc-explores-how-we-can-survive-an-uncertain-ai-future-154341735.html?src=rss

Soft Means Spoiled, and That’s Actually Brilliant

Most kitchen appliances are desperate for your attention. They beep, flash, and send you notifications just to remind you that they exist. Dolce, a conceptual refrigerator handle designed by Zhujun Pang, goes in the opposite direction entirely, and that restraint is exactly what makes it so interesting.

The premise is deceptively simple. The handle, made of frosted silicone with a clean, pill-shaped profile, changes its physical firmness based on the freshness of the food stored inside the refrigerator. When everything’s fine in there, the handle feels firm to the touch. When something is going bad, it softens. No beep. No notification. No app to check. You just reach for the fridge and the handle tells you what you need to know before you’ve even opened the door.

Designer: Zhujun Pang

The metaphor doing the heavy lifting here is the banana. Firm when fresh, soft when it’s past its prime. It’s one of those pieces of embodied knowledge so universal it barely registers as knowledge at all. Pang took that intuition and designed around it, which is the kind of thinking that tends to produce the best objects: not inventing a new language for a user to learn, but borrowing one they already speak fluently.

Aesthetically, Dolce is striking in a way that sneaks up on you. The handle has a warmth and softness even in its “firm” state, that frosted translucency sitting beautifully against the warm wood grain of a cabinet door. It looks almost like a piece of cast glass or a studio ceramics piece. It doesn’t scream “smart home gadget,” and that’s a huge point in its favor. A lot of connected objects fail because they look like what they are: gadgets strapped onto otherwise elegant things. Dolce looks like it belongs.

What Pang identified at the core of this problem is quietly profound. The refrigerator is, in a sense, a box that separates us from our food. You can’t smell your leftovers through the door. You can’t see whether that cucumber at the back is starting to go. The fridge solves the preservation problem but creates an information problem in the process. Dolce’s answer isn’t to add a screen or a camera interface or a connected app. It’s to restore something tactile and immediate at the one point of contact you already have with the appliance every single day.

It’s also worth noting that the handle looks exactly like what a modern refrigerator handle should look like right now. That matters more than it might seem. Design that carries function without calling attention to its function has a longer life. Trends come and go, but an object that is quietly beautiful tends to stay relevant. Dolce is the kind of piece that could sit in a design museum or in an IKEA kitchen and feel at home in either setting.

The technology underneath is also worth a moment of appreciation, even if we’re not deep-diving into the engineering. Internal sensors read the fridge’s environment, an onboard microcontroller processes that data, and a small air pump inflates or deflates a silicone bladder inside the handle. The firmness you feel when you grab it is literally driven by air pressure responding to actual conditions inside the fridge. That the end result of all that is just “firm” or “soft” is the whole point. Complex input, simple output. The user carries none of the cognitive load.

It would be easy to dismiss this as a design concept that will never see production, and maybe it won’t. But the thinking it represents is what the appliance industry desperately needs more of. Most smart home products are still asking us to do more, check more, manage more. Dolce asks us to do less. It removes a small decision from your day and delivers the answer at the precise moment you need it, through the sense that requires the least interpretation of all.

The post Soft Means Spoiled, and That’s Actually Brilliant first appeared on Yanko Design.

The 44-Pocket Coat That Makes You Question Home Itself

Picture this: you’re standing on a sidewalk with nothing but the clothes on your back. No wallet, no keys, no lease, no address. The only shelter you have is what you’re wearing. For most of us, that thought is hypothetical enough to be brushed aside. But for Japanese designer Kosuke Tsumura, it became a thirty-year design obsession.

FINAL HOME, the label Tsumura founded in 1994 under the Miyake Design Studio, is built on a single uncomfortable question: if home disappears because of disaster, war, or economic collapse, what can clothing become? The answer, it turns out, is a translucent nylon parka with 44 pockets.

Designer: kosuke tsumura

The 44-pocket parka is FINAL HOME’s most iconic piece, and it earns that status through sheer conceptual density. Those pockets aren’t decorative. They’re meant to carry food, medicine, tools, whatever you need to survive. When the temperature drops, you stuff them with newspaper or any insulating material you can find, and the coat does the work of keeping you warm. Optional down cushions slot into the pockets too, turning the whole thing into a proper down jacket at a moment’s notice. The coat can even be adjusted for fit by stuffing specific pockets, which means it adapts to any body type without tailoring. There’s even a FINAL HOME Bear, a small companion designed to nestle into a pocket and add a layer of insulation.

That last detail is the one I keep returning to. A teddy bear as thermal technology. It sounds absurd until you realize it’s also kind of genius, and deeply human. Tsumura isn’t just designing for survival in a cold, mechanical sense. He’s designing for the full experience of being displaced: frightened, possibly alone, needing warmth in more than one way.

This is what separates FINAL HOME from the streetwear brands that borrow its visual DNA. Plenty of labels have done the oversized translucent nylon thing. Few of them are asking anything of it. Tsumura is asking everything. The coat lives at the intersection of fashion, architecture, and emergency preparedness, and it doesn’t apologize for the weight of that position.

The fact that the 44-pocket parka has been in MoMA’s permanent collection since 2006 says a lot. Museums have a way of freezing things in amber, turning useful objects into relics. But FINAL HOME resists that fate because its premise only becomes more relevant over time. We are, by most reasonable measures, living through an era of compounding instability. Climate events, economic precarity, the slow erosion of what people once assumed was stable. A jacket designed for when the floor disappears doesn’t feel like a curiosity anymore. It feels almost prescient.

Tsumura has described utopia not as a destination but as a method, something embedded in everyday life rather than promised in some distant future. That framing reframes FINAL HOME entirely. It’s not a coat for the apocalypse. It’s a coat for right now, for a world where the safety nets are showing their age and adaptability matters more than ever. The chocolate candles included in the broader FINAL HOME universe push this even further, objects designed to serve two purposes at once, comfort and function, because the line between them is thinner than we like to admit.

The 44-pocket parka doesn’t look like survival gear. It looks like art, which is partly why it works so well. Wearing it doesn’t announce crisis or declare emergency. It just quietly insists that preparedness and design don’t have to be mutually exclusive, that you can move through the world looking completely intentional while also being ready for it to shift beneath you.

Tsumura started this project over thirty years ago, and it still feels ahead of where most design conversations are happening. That’s not a small thing. Most ideas burn bright and fade. FINAL HOME just keeps asking its question, and the world keeps making that question harder to ignore.

The post The 44-Pocket Coat That Makes You Question Home Itself first appeared on Yanko Design.

The PS5 is getting more expensive… again

It was only last August that Sony raised PS5 console prices in the US, blaming a "challenging economic environment" at the time. Today it has slightly tweaked the phrasing to "continued pressures in the global economic landscape," but the outcome is the same: price rises across the board, this time even affecting the PS Portal handheld.

Starting April 2, the price of the standard PS5 (that’s the one with the disc drive) is going up to $650. That’s a whopping $100 hike, or $150 if you go back to before the August price increases. The Digital Edition is getting the same increase, up to $600 from $500 since August.

But the most eye-wateringly huge bump goes to the PS5 Pro, which will now cost you $900, $150 more than its (already very high) previous $750 MSRP. If you managed to pick up a Pro during last year’s Black Friday sale, when its price was slashed to $650, then you’re probably feeling pretty smug right now.

Even the PlayStation Portal is getting a $50 increase, up from $199 to $250. The Portal has gotten a lot more capable in the last 12 months, but $250 for a device that can’t run any games natively might make a purchase harder to justify for a lot of people.

In a blog post, Sony acknowledged the impact of prices increases on its audience, but said after "careful evaluation" that it was "a necessary step to ensure we can continue delivering innovative, high-quality gaming experiences to players worldwide."

Global economic turbulence is affecting the entire games industry right now. Valve has already pushed back the launch date for the Steam Machine, while the ongoing RAM crisis could also be to blame for Steam Deck stock shortages. 

Microsoft also raised Xbox prices twice last year, and earlier this week Nintendo announced that some of its physical first-party Switch 2 games will soon be more expensive than purchasing the game digitally. While Nintendo has experimented with this kind of pricing structure before, it might point to the increasingly prohibitive costs of making and shipping products right now.

This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/gaming/playstation/the-ps5-is-getting-more-expensive-again-133141514.html?src=rss

The $399 MPC Sample Finally Makes Beatmaking Beautifully Portable

The MPC is one of those rare objects that carries cultural weight beyond its function. Since the MPC60 landed in 1988, that grid of rubber pads has been behind some of the most iconic beats ever made, from hip-hop to electronic music to whatever genre-bending thing your favorite producer is cooking up right now. So when Akai Pro quietly dropped the MPC Sample at $399, it felt like the kind of announcement worth paying attention to, even if you’ve never touched a drum pad in your life.

The MPC Sample is compact in a way that actually surprises you. At 23.6 × 19.4 × 5.0 cm and just under a kilogram, it fits comfortably in a backpack. It runs on a rechargeable lithium-ion battery that lasts up to five hours, has a built-in microphone and a 3-watt speaker, and connects via a single USB-C port for audio, MIDI, charging, and file transfer. That’s a lot of functionality packed into something that looks like it belongs on a desk alongside a cup of coffee and a sketchbook.

Designer: Akai Pro

The design is where things get really interesting. The MPC Sample draws direct visual inspiration from the MPC60, one of the most beloved pieces of music hardware ever made. The color palette is restrained and tasteful. The layout is clean. The 16 RGB velocity-sensitive pads sit front and center with that familiar grid arrangement, and the inclusion of a legacy parameter fader is a genuinely nice nod to the hardware that built the MPC name. The Verge called it a favorite portable beat maker, and you can see why the moment you look at it. It feels considered in a way that a lot of modern gear doesn’t.

Look at it a little longer and you start noticing the smaller decisions. The padded wrist rest. The way the button layout doesn’t fight for your attention. The muted color scheme that feels closer to a vintage synthesizer than a modern gadget. A lot of companies chasing the retro aesthetic tend to overcook it, leaning so hard into nostalgia that the product starts to feel like a costume. The MPC Sample avoids that entirely. It looks like something that was always going to exist, not something designed to remind you of something else. The proportions are right. The materials feel intentional. For a $399 device, the level of design restraint on display is genuinely impressive, and honestly a little rare.

That last point is worth dwelling on. Hardware design in the music world tends to fall into two camps: either overloaded and intimidating, or stripped down to the point of being frustrating. The MPC Sample sits in a much more interesting middle ground. The 2.4-inch full-color display is there when you need to visualize your waveform. The three real-time control knobs handle effects on the fly. The Instant Sample Chop mode, the real-time timestretch and repitch, the 60 effect types spread across four engines: it’s capable without being overwhelming. For someone new to sampling, that balance is almost everything.

It’s worth noting the price context here. The original MPC60 launched in 1988 at $4,999.95, which works out to roughly $13,800 in today’s money. The MPC Sample does things the MPC60 couldn’t dream of, for $399. That’s not just a deal; that’s a philosophical shift in who gets to make music with professional-grade tools. The fact that it ships loaded with over 100 factory kits, 2GB of RAM, and 8GB of internal storage, with room to expand via microSD, makes the entry point feel even more generous.

Nothing is without trade-offs, though. Five hours of battery life is solid for a focused session but won’t carry you through a full travel day. The built-in speaker works fine for quick monitoring, but you’ll want headphones for anything serious. And the MPC ecosystem, while powerful, has always carried a learning curve for newcomers. The MPC Sample softens that curve considerably, but it doesn’t disappear entirely.

What makes the MPC Sample feel culturally significant isn’t only its portability or its price point. It’s the way it takes something with nearly 40 years of creative history and makes it genuinely accessible without watering it down. The design respects the legacy. The features serve the workflow. The whole thing is small enough to go anywhere, which might actually be the most radical thing about it. Creativity has always been portable in theory. The MPC Sample is making it portable in practice. At $399, it’s the kind of object that quietly makes you reconsider where, and how, you make things.

The post The $399 MPC Sample Finally Makes Beatmaking Beautifully Portable first appeared on Yanko Design.

Engadget Podcast: Can Microsoft fix Windows 11 by dumping AI?

It turns out people don't actually love having Copilot shoved into their faces. This week, Devindra and PCWorld Senior Editor Mark Hachman discuss Microsoft's surprising plan to "fix" Windows 11 by refocusing on customization and core features, instead of bringing Copilot AI into tons of apps. Is there any enthusiasm left for Windows? Or will most people be better off considering macOS or Linux?

  • Microsoft hits the reset button on Windows 11, de-emphasizing Copilot AI – 1:03

  • OpenAI pulls the plug on its Sora video generation app after just 5 months – 25:23

  • Meta’s terrible week in court, part 1: $375 million ruling in New Mexico child engagement case – 33:58

  • Meta’s terrible week in court, part 2: Meta and Google lose landmark social media addiction suit – 38:49

  • OpenAI puts erotic chat on hold indefinitely – 43:49

  • Update your iPhones: iOS exploit ‘Darksword’ released on GitHub – 46:39

  • Epic games lays off 1,000 workers after Fortnite engagement dips – 47:48

  • Honda and Sony kill off their Afeela EV collaboration – 49:26

  • Listener Mail: Which Mac Mini to get for a budding pro photographer – 55:15

  • Pop culture picks – 57:52

Host: Devindra Hardawar
Guest: Mark Hachman
Producer: Ben Ellman
Music: Dale North and Terrence O’Brien

This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/computing/engadget-podcast-can-microsoft-fix-windows-11-by-dumping-ai-122601592.html?src=rss

Engadget Podcast: Can Microsoft fix Windows 11 by dumping AI?

It turns out people don't actually love having Copilot shoved into their faces. This week, Devindra and PCWorld Senior Editor Mark Hachman discuss Microsoft's surprising plan to "fix" Windows 11 by refocusing on customization and core features, instead of bringing Copilot AI into tons of apps. Is there any enthusiasm left for Windows? Or will most people be better off considering macOS or Linux?

  • Microsoft hits the reset button on Windows 11, de-emphasizing Copilot AI – 1:03

  • OpenAI pulls the plug on its Sora video generation app after just 5 months – 25:23

  • Meta’s terrible week in court, part 1: $375 million ruling in New Mexico child engagement case – 33:58

  • Meta’s terrible week in court, part 2: Meta and Google lose landmark social media addiction suit – 38:49

  • OpenAI puts erotic chat on hold indefinitely – 43:49

  • Update your iPhones: iOS exploit ‘Darksword’ released on GitHub – 46:39

  • Epic games lays off 1,000 workers after Fortnite engagement dips – 47:48

  • Honda and Sony kill off their Afeela EV collaboration – 49:26

  • Listener Mail: Which Mac Mini to get for a budding pro photographer – 55:15

  • Pop culture picks – 57:52

Host: Devindra Hardawar
Guest: Mark Hachman
Producer: Ben Ellman
Music: Dale North and Terrence O’Brien

This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/computing/engadget-podcast-can-microsoft-fix-windows-11-by-dumping-ai-122601592.html?src=rss