This Wall Speaker Lets You Decorate Your Room with Music and Art

The must-have for your home used to be a choice: a speaker or a digital frame. Good audio gear fills a room with sound but rarely does anything worth looking at. Digital frames look considered and calm on a wall but go completely silent the moment you need them to do something else. It seems obvious, in hindsight, that someone would eventually stop treating these as separate problems.

Monar is that someone. The Monar Canvas Speaker brings both together in a single framed wall piece that plays Hi-Fi audio while displaying art on a built-in screen, and the two functions are genuinely connected. When music plays, the display responds in real time, generating visuals that shift and react to the track. It fills your home with sound. It decorates your wall with art. It does both at once.

Designer: Monar

Click Here to Buy Now: $799 $1299 ($500 off). Hurry, only 122/150 left! Raised over $55,000.

The design draws its visual logic from classical oil painting. Traditional canvas proportions, the kind that have framed masterworks for centuries, informed the 4:5 portrait ratio of the panel, a deliberate departure from the widescreen format most screens default to. That historical reference is not decorative. It is the reason the Monar reads like framed art on a wall rather than a screen that someone forgot to put away.

The outer frame is interchangeable across eight options: premium ABS plastics, natural linen, and brushed aluminium, with one ABS option styled after Mondrian’s primary color geometry. Swapping the frame is a practical feature rather than a gimmick, since the object is permanent décor. If your interior changes, the frame can too.

The audio side makes bold claims for an enclosure that is only 4.9cm deep. Six drivers handle the load: 2 titanium tweeters, 2 midranges using a golden ratio cone geometry, and full-size subwoofers running through a 2.2-channel amplifier. The 20Hz to 20kHz frequency response is ambitious for a chassis this thin, and one definitely worth hearing.

Where the product earns genuine interest is in the everyday texture of using it. Put on an album, and one of 12 lyric display themes animates the words in sync with the music. Switch to the World Gallery and the screen cycles through more than 50,000 digitized artworks, from Van Gogh to Hokusai. Activate Meditation Mode and the visuals shift to ambient scenes timed to calming audio. When no music is playing, it displays personal photos or videos, so it never really goes blank or dormant.

The generative AI tools go further still. Monar’s AI Studio lets you create original artwork through text prompts, uploaded images, or even a musical concept. The result displays on screen, making it possible to have genuinely new wall art on demand without touching a single frame nail. These features run on a points system, with a free tier offering 100 points per month. The World Gallery and Meditation Mode cost nothing extra, regardless.

Paid AI tiers range from $9.90 to $39.90 per month for heavier creative use, and the free allocation covers casual experimentation comfortably. What makes the pricing structure interesting is what it says about the product underneath it: even without touching a single AI feature, the Monar already delivers a fully functional Hi-Fi speaker system and a complete digital frame in one object. That combination alone is something no single product category had managed to pull off before it came along.

A speaker that becomes a painting, a gallery that plays music, a frame that reacts to sound: the Monar pulls off a combination that no single product category has figured out before it. The real question worth sitting with is not whether it works, but how much your walls have been missing something like it.

Click Here to Buy Now: $799 $1299 ($500 off). Hurry, only 122/150 left! Raised over $55,000.

The post This Wall Speaker Lets You Decorate Your Room with Music and Art first appeared on Yanko Design.

Microsoft Broke the Only Thing That Actually Mattered

Any tech nerd knows the unspoken contract that comes with being the only tech-literate person in the family. You get texts when someone’s laptop is slow, called over during the holidays to fix the router, and consulted every eighteen months when someone needs a new phone or computer. For years, the laptop question had a clean, confident answer: a Windows machine. Cheap entry points, massive software compatibility, games that actually run, no walled gardens, no ecosystem hostage situations, and enough flexibility that even a non-technical person could figure out the basics without feeling like they’d violated a terms of service agreement. But the last time someone asked me what laptop to get, I paused. For a good minute I asked myself, should I even recommend Windows anymore?

That pause is new, and it carries weight that no benchmark score or spec sheet can explain. The designated family tech person has historically been one of the most reliable organic distribution channels Windows ever had, recommending the same platform generation after generation because it worked, it was accessible, and there was nothing obviously better for normal people at a reasonable price. When that person hesitates, the platform has a problem. Microsoft built an empire on being the obvious, low-friction answer to the laptop question, and somewhere between Windows 10 and the Copilot era, they stopped protecting that position. And with Apple dropping a $599 MacBook just last week, that position seems even more in danger.

2024 CrowdStrike Outage

The OS that holds civilization together

Windows runs somewhere between 72 and 73 percent of the world’s desktops, and while that’s an impressive monopoly, it completely ignores the critical systems where Windows is actually even more prevalent and essential. Hospital admission systems, ATM networks, military command infrastructure, government offices, court systems, school networks, and banking operations across virtually every country on earth run on Windows. These institutions did not choose Windows out of preference; they are locked in through decades of infrastructure investment, software dependencies, and training costs that make switching systemically impractical at scale. The July 2024 CrowdStrike incident put a specific number on what this dependency looks like under pressure: one faulty content update to a single Windows security tool simultaneously bricked approximately 8.5 million machines, grounded over 8,500 flights globally, knocked hospital systems offline across multiple countries, and disabled 911 call centers across several US states. One third-party software layer, one bad update, and the operational skeleton of modern civic life visibly buckled.

That is the platform Microsoft has been treating as a vehicle for AI feature experiments. Recall, the AI tool Microsoft attempted to ship as part of Windows 11, worked by screenshotting the user’s screen every few seconds and storing those images locally to build a searchable timeline of everything they had ever done on the machine. Security researchers flagged it almost immediately as a catastrophic privacy liability: a permanent, silent, queryable record of every document, message, and webpage the screen had ever displayed. Microsoft paused the rollout after a fierce public backlash, but the revealing fact is that Recall cleared internal review in the first place. The teams approving that feature were not thinking about hospital clerks processing patient records, lawyers working with privileged communications, or government employees handling sensitive data. They were building a keynote demo.

The market is responding accordingly

Microsoft ended official Windows 10 support in October 2025, cutting off security patches for what was still the most widely used version of the OS. Months of upgrade campaigns, notification banners, and every available form of institutional pressure followed. The result: as of December 2025, Windows 10 sits at 44.68% market share and actually gained users after support ended, while Windows 11 dropped from 55.18% in October to 50.73% in December, shedding over four percentage points in two months while the officially dead OS clawed back ground. People are choosing to run a security-vulnerable, unsupported operating system rather than upgrade to the one Microsoft actively maintains, and that is not technophobia or inertia. It is a calculated judgment, made by millions of users independently, that the known risks of the old version beat the unknown risks of moving to the new one.

The TPM 2.0 hardware requirement blocked installation on millions of perfectly functional machines with no meaningful performance justification for everyday users, which meant the upgrade conversation started with resentment before it ever got to features. First-boot setup funnels new users toward a Microsoft account, with the offline bypass buried past the point where most non-technical people will ever find it. OneDrive integration sits deep enough in the OS that users regularly discover their Desktop files have been syncing to the cloud without understanding when or how they agreed to that. A fresh Windows 11 install in 2026 ships with TikTok, Instagram, Disney+, and a collection of Microsoft’s own unfinished apps pre-pinned to the Start menu, none of them arriving with any user consent. Copilot, which no consumer demand survey had identified as a priority, now appears in the OS sidebar, the taskbar, and since 2024, as a dedicated hardware key on new laptops, occupying real estate where a key with actual utility used to live.

Running alongside all of that is a separate update quality crisis that has been building its own track record. A January 2026 security update caused boot failures on certain Windows 11 machines, with Microsoft eventually tracing the issue to a botched December 2025 update that had left affected devices in what they diplomatically described as an “improper state.” An October 2025 security update broke VPN networking for enterprise users running OpenVPN and Cisco Secure Client, a bug that carried through the December patch cycle without a clean resolution. Security updates, the category Microsoft explicitly tells users they cannot afford to skip, became a threat to system stability in their own right. When the patch and the problem are indistinguishable from each other, the trust issue has moved well past inconvenience.

A modified version of a comic by Manu Cornet

Nadella is a great CEO. Just not for desktop operating systems.

Satya Nadella took Microsoft’s stock from roughly $35 in 2014 to over $400 at its peak, killed the Nokia disaster before it could fully metastasize, repositioned the entire company around cloud infrastructure, and placed an early bet on OpenAI when AI was still considered expensive academic theater. Azure’s consistent 30%-plus year-over-year growth commands complete executive attention and pulls the best engineering talent in the building toward it like gravity. By any honest standard corporate metric, Nadella’s Microsoft is a legitimate turnaround story, and the shareholder returns are not fabricated. But Nadella is a cloud and enterprise person at his core, and consumer Windows is a mature product in a saturated market, which in corporate strategy language translates cleanly to “managed asset.” The product that generates excitement gets the architects and the product visionaries; the one that just needs to keep working gets whoever is left after that allocation is done.

Paul Thurrott, who has covered Microsoft longer than most of the current Windows team has worked there, documented what that organizational reality looks like in practice. He wrote that Microsoft “relegated Windows to a backwater world led by B-teamers as the brightest minds at the company moved onto more lucrative career opportunities in Azure and AI.” That is an organizational autopsy, not editorial frustration, and it explains the product trajectory better than any feature changelog can. The talent followed the money and the excitement, and what remained shipped a redesigned Start menu nobody requested, a Copilot key nobody asked for, and a feature that the security community identified as dangerous within hours of its public announcement. The B-team does not ship bad decisions out of malice; they ship them because nobody senior enough to stop them is paying attention.

This pattern has a name

Nadella did not invent this behavioral tendency; it recurs reliably enough across modern tech to qualify as its own CEO archetype. Elon Musk built Tesla into the most culturally significant car company on earth, then spent the better part of two years fixated on Twitter, rebranding it to X, eliminating roughly 80% of staff, and torching advertiser relationships that took years to build, while Tesla’s stock dropped roughly 40% in the first quarter of 2025 alone. Now, he’s discontinued two Tesla models permanently while focusing efforts on an extremely polarizing AI chatbot. Mark Zuckerberg committed somewhere between $40 and $50 billion to the metaverse between 2021 and 2023, a virtual world that peaked at approximately 300,000 daily active users on Meta Horizon Worlds, before quietly pivoting to AI and becoming a public figure most associated with jiu-jitsu tournaments. The pattern is consistent enough to have a shape: a CEO builds something genuinely dominant, gets pulled toward the next big technological narrative, and hands the original product to the maintenance crew while energy and capital chase the new story. The difference with Nadella is the scale of what he handed off.

What separates his case from Musk and Zuckerberg is that he did not get distracted from Windows. He consciously stripped it for parts. Azure and AI received the budget, the senior talent pipeline, and the executive attention. Windows received the downstream output of that redistribution: mandatory AI integrations nobody requested, hardware specifications designed around Microsoft’s AI keynote roadmap rather than user needs, and a product direction driven more by investor narrative than by any user research that has ever been made public. The ordinary people buying $400 laptops are absorbing the cost of that sacrifice. The shareholders benefiting from Azure’s quarterly growth numbers are not.

Enshittification, documented

Cory Doctorow’s enshittification framework describes a platform lifecycle: start good for users, degrade toward serving business partners, then degrade further to extract maximum value for shareholders at everyone else’s expense. Windows 11 maps cleanly onto the third stage. The Start menu was rebuilt from scratch for the Windows 11 launch, stripping out Live Tiles that users had configured over years and replacing them with a static grid that is less functional and harder to customize, with no usability gain justifying the regression. Drag-and-drop onto taskbar applications was removed entirely at launch and only partially restored after months of sustained community pressure. Windows 11 originally shipped without the ability to right-click the taskbar to open Task Manager, a function that had existed since Windows NT 4.0 in 1996, and whose removal was not a redesign decision so much as evidence that nobody tested the product against the habits of actual users.

Control Panel, introduced in 1985, and the modern Settings app, first introduced in 2012 with Windows 8, still coexist in parallel inside Windows 11 in 2026. Basic system configuration requires jumping between both because neither is complete on its own, and the logic governing which settings live in which interface has never been consistently explained or resolved. Thirteen years of two competing tools sharing the same OS, and Microsoft never cared enough about the end-user experience to finish the job. This is not a legacy oversight or a technical debt problem that nobody knows how to solve. It is a choice, visible in its incompleteness, that reveals how little Windows product ownership has mattered to anyone with the authority to demand better.

Where this leaves ordinary people

Windows remains the most practical OS for most consumers, and that matters because it means there is no clean exit for the people being failed by it. MacOS is polished and stable but paternalistic by design: Apple creates deliberate friction around installing software from outside its ecosystem, the interface carries a genuine learning curve for anyone transitioning from Windows, and a MacBook Air M4 starts at $1,099 against a capable Windows laptop at around $400. Sure you can buy the $599 MacBook Neo too, but it’s genuinely less of a laptop and more of a netbook. The price difference between a regular MacBook and a similarly spec’d Windows laptop is not marginal in most of the world, particularly in the markets where Windows adoption is highest. Linux is genuinely improving year over year and deserves acknowledgment for it, but recommending Ubuntu to a non-technical family member invites more trouble than relief. The alternatives exist, but they serve a different user than the one who has to ask for a laptop recommendation.

A regular person can still buy an affordable Windows machine, install whatever software they want, run games across a hardware range that nothing else matches, plug in any peripheral without a compatibility interrogation, and operate without being treated as a security risk for opening a file from outside a curated store. Microsoft is eroding that value proposition methodically, one forced integration at a time, but the erosion has not yet reached full collapse. As of early 2026, reporting suggests Microsoft is pulling back from the AI-everywhere approach in Windows and refocusing on core stability, with Paul Thurrott describing the shift as “something happened,” which from a journalist who has spent years documenting Windows’ decline with the exhausted precision of someone watching a building settle incorrectly reads as cautious acknowledgment rather than optimism. Whether that represents genuine reprioritization or noise management ahead of a Windows 12 announcement nobody has officially confirmed is the question worth watching.

Rebuilding trust after Recall, after a year of destabilizing updates, after years of treating the world’s most consequential operating system as a demo environment for products the market never asked for, takes considerably longer than a few stable patches and a tonal reset in engineering blog posts. The millions of people still on Windows 10, knowingly running an unsupported OS past its expiration date, made a rational call: the known risks of yesterday’s software beat the unpredictable risks of an OS whose roadmap is driven by whatever Microsoft needs to show investors next quarter. That is not the normal frustration cycle where users grumble and eventually upgrade. It is a trust deficit built through years of consistent bad decisions, and a few good patch cycles will not close it. The easiest tech recommendation in the world has become a pause, and the people responsible for that pause are too deep in Azure dashboards to understand what it actually costs.

The post Microsoft Broke the Only Thing That Actually Mattered first appeared on Yanko Design.

Microsoft Broke the Only Thing That Actually Mattered

Any tech nerd knows the unspoken contract that comes with being the only tech-literate person in the family. You get texts when someone’s laptop is slow, called over during the holidays to fix the router, and consulted every eighteen months when someone needs a new phone or computer. For years, the laptop question had a clean, confident answer: a Windows machine. Cheap entry points, massive software compatibility, games that actually run, no walled gardens, no ecosystem hostage situations, and enough flexibility that even a non-technical person could figure out the basics without feeling like they’d violated a terms of service agreement. But the last time someone asked me what laptop to get, I paused. For a good minute I asked myself, should I even recommend Windows anymore?

That pause is new, and it carries weight that no benchmark score or spec sheet can explain. The designated family tech person has historically been one of the most reliable organic distribution channels Windows ever had, recommending the same platform generation after generation because it worked, it was accessible, and there was nothing obviously better for normal people at a reasonable price. When that person hesitates, the platform has a problem. Microsoft built an empire on being the obvious, low-friction answer to the laptop question, and somewhere between Windows 10 and the Copilot era, they stopped protecting that position. And with Apple dropping a $599 MacBook just last week, that position seems even more in danger.

2024 CrowdStrike Outage

The OS that holds civilization together

Windows runs somewhere between 72 and 73 percent of the world’s desktops, and while that’s an impressive monopoly, it completely ignores the critical systems where Windows is actually even more prevalent and essential. Hospital admission systems, ATM networks, military command infrastructure, government offices, court systems, school networks, and banking operations across virtually every country on earth run on Windows. These institutions did not choose Windows out of preference; they are locked in through decades of infrastructure investment, software dependencies, and training costs that make switching systemically impractical at scale. The July 2024 CrowdStrike incident put a specific number on what this dependency looks like under pressure: one faulty content update to a single Windows security tool simultaneously bricked approximately 8.5 million machines, grounded over 8,500 flights globally, knocked hospital systems offline across multiple countries, and disabled 911 call centers across several US states. One third-party software layer, one bad update, and the operational skeleton of modern civic life visibly buckled.

That is the platform Microsoft has been treating as a vehicle for AI feature experiments. Recall, the AI tool Microsoft attempted to ship as part of Windows 11, worked by screenshotting the user’s screen every few seconds and storing those images locally to build a searchable timeline of everything they had ever done on the machine. Security researchers flagged it almost immediately as a catastrophic privacy liability: a permanent, silent, queryable record of every document, message, and webpage the screen had ever displayed. Microsoft paused the rollout after a fierce public backlash, but the revealing fact is that Recall cleared internal review in the first place. The teams approving that feature were not thinking about hospital clerks processing patient records, lawyers working with privileged communications, or government employees handling sensitive data. They were building a keynote demo.

The market is responding accordingly

Microsoft ended official Windows 10 support in October 2025, cutting off security patches for what was still the most widely used version of the OS. Months of upgrade campaigns, notification banners, and every available form of institutional pressure followed. The result: as of December 2025, Windows 10 sits at 44.68% market share and actually gained users after support ended, while Windows 11 dropped from 55.18% in October to 50.73% in December, shedding over four percentage points in two months while the officially dead OS clawed back ground. People are choosing to run a security-vulnerable, unsupported operating system rather than upgrade to the one Microsoft actively maintains, and that is not technophobia or inertia. It is a calculated judgment, made by millions of users independently, that the known risks of the old version beat the unknown risks of moving to the new one.

The TPM 2.0 hardware requirement blocked installation on millions of perfectly functional machines with no meaningful performance justification for everyday users, which meant the upgrade conversation started with resentment before it ever got to features. First-boot setup funnels new users toward a Microsoft account, with the offline bypass buried past the point where most non-technical people will ever find it. OneDrive integration sits deep enough in the OS that users regularly discover their Desktop files have been syncing to the cloud without understanding when or how they agreed to that. A fresh Windows 11 install in 2026 ships with TikTok, Instagram, Disney+, and a collection of Microsoft’s own unfinished apps pre-pinned to the Start menu, none of them arriving with any user consent. Copilot, which no consumer demand survey had identified as a priority, now appears in the OS sidebar, the taskbar, and since 2024, as a dedicated hardware key on new laptops, occupying real estate where a key with actual utility used to live.

Running alongside all of that is a separate update quality crisis that has been building its own track record. A January 2026 security update caused boot failures on certain Windows 11 machines, with Microsoft eventually tracing the issue to a botched December 2025 update that had left affected devices in what they diplomatically described as an “improper state.” An October 2025 security update broke VPN networking for enterprise users running OpenVPN and Cisco Secure Client, a bug that carried through the December patch cycle without a clean resolution. Security updates, the category Microsoft explicitly tells users they cannot afford to skip, became a threat to system stability in their own right. When the patch and the problem are indistinguishable from each other, the trust issue has moved well past inconvenience.

A modified version of a comic by Manu Cornet

Nadella is a great CEO. Just not for desktop operating systems.

Satya Nadella took Microsoft’s stock from roughly $35 in 2014 to over $400 at its peak, killed the Nokia disaster before it could fully metastasize, repositioned the entire company around cloud infrastructure, and placed an early bet on OpenAI when AI was still considered expensive academic theater. Azure’s consistent 30%-plus year-over-year growth commands complete executive attention and pulls the best engineering talent in the building toward it like gravity. By any honest standard corporate metric, Nadella’s Microsoft is a legitimate turnaround story, and the shareholder returns are not fabricated. But Nadella is a cloud and enterprise person at his core, and consumer Windows is a mature product in a saturated market, which in corporate strategy language translates cleanly to “managed asset.” The product that generates excitement gets the architects and the product visionaries; the one that just needs to keep working gets whoever is left after that allocation is done.

Paul Thurrott, who has covered Microsoft longer than most of the current Windows team has worked there, documented what that organizational reality looks like in practice. He wrote that Microsoft “relegated Windows to a backwater world led by B-teamers as the brightest minds at the company moved onto more lucrative career opportunities in Azure and AI.” That is an organizational autopsy, not editorial frustration, and it explains the product trajectory better than any feature changelog can. The talent followed the money and the excitement, and what remained shipped a redesigned Start menu nobody requested, a Copilot key nobody asked for, and a feature that the security community identified as dangerous within hours of its public announcement. The B-team does not ship bad decisions out of malice; they ship them because nobody senior enough to stop them is paying attention.

This pattern has a name

Nadella did not invent this behavioral tendency; it recurs reliably enough across modern tech to qualify as its own CEO archetype. Elon Musk built Tesla into the most culturally significant car company on earth, then spent the better part of two years fixated on Twitter, rebranding it to X, eliminating roughly 80% of staff, and torching advertiser relationships that took years to build, while Tesla’s stock dropped roughly 40% in the first quarter of 2025 alone. Now, he’s discontinued two Tesla models permanently while focusing efforts on an extremely polarizing AI chatbot. Mark Zuckerberg committed somewhere between $40 and $50 billion to the metaverse between 2021 and 2023, a virtual world that peaked at approximately 300,000 daily active users on Meta Horizon Worlds, before quietly pivoting to AI and becoming a public figure most associated with jiu-jitsu tournaments. The pattern is consistent enough to have a shape: a CEO builds something genuinely dominant, gets pulled toward the next big technological narrative, and hands the original product to the maintenance crew while energy and capital chase the new story. The difference with Nadella is the scale of what he handed off.

What separates his case from Musk and Zuckerberg is that he did not get distracted from Windows. He consciously stripped it for parts. Azure and AI received the budget, the senior talent pipeline, and the executive attention. Windows received the downstream output of that redistribution: mandatory AI integrations nobody requested, hardware specifications designed around Microsoft’s AI keynote roadmap rather than user needs, and a product direction driven more by investor narrative than by any user research that has ever been made public. The ordinary people buying $400 laptops are absorbing the cost of that sacrifice. The shareholders benefiting from Azure’s quarterly growth numbers are not.

Enshittification, documented

Cory Doctorow’s enshittification framework describes a platform lifecycle: start good for users, degrade toward serving business partners, then degrade further to extract maximum value for shareholders at everyone else’s expense. Windows 11 maps cleanly onto the third stage. The Start menu was rebuilt from scratch for the Windows 11 launch, stripping out Live Tiles that users had configured over years and replacing them with a static grid that is less functional and harder to customize, with no usability gain justifying the regression. Drag-and-drop onto taskbar applications was removed entirely at launch and only partially restored after months of sustained community pressure. Windows 11 originally shipped without the ability to right-click the taskbar to open Task Manager, a function that had existed since Windows NT 4.0 in 1996, and whose removal was not a redesign decision so much as evidence that nobody tested the product against the habits of actual users.

Control Panel, introduced in 1985, and the modern Settings app, first introduced in 2012 with Windows 8, still coexist in parallel inside Windows 11 in 2026. Basic system configuration requires jumping between both because neither is complete on its own, and the logic governing which settings live in which interface has never been consistently explained or resolved. Thirteen years of two competing tools sharing the same OS, and Microsoft never cared enough about the end-user experience to finish the job. This is not a legacy oversight or a technical debt problem that nobody knows how to solve. It is a choice, visible in its incompleteness, that reveals how little Windows product ownership has mattered to anyone with the authority to demand better.

Where this leaves ordinary people

Windows remains the most practical OS for most consumers, and that matters because it means there is no clean exit for the people being failed by it. MacOS is polished and stable but paternalistic by design: Apple creates deliberate friction around installing software from outside its ecosystem, the interface carries a genuine learning curve for anyone transitioning from Windows, and a MacBook Air M4 starts at $1,099 against a capable Windows laptop at around $400. Sure you can buy the $599 MacBook Neo too, but it’s genuinely less of a laptop and more of a netbook. The price difference between a regular MacBook and a similarly spec’d Windows laptop is not marginal in most of the world, particularly in the markets where Windows adoption is highest. Linux is genuinely improving year over year and deserves acknowledgment for it, but recommending Ubuntu to a non-technical family member invites more trouble than relief. The alternatives exist, but they serve a different user than the one who has to ask for a laptop recommendation.

A regular person can still buy an affordable Windows machine, install whatever software they want, run games across a hardware range that nothing else matches, plug in any peripheral without a compatibility interrogation, and operate without being treated as a security risk for opening a file from outside a curated store. Microsoft is eroding that value proposition methodically, one forced integration at a time, but the erosion has not yet reached full collapse. As of early 2026, reporting suggests Microsoft is pulling back from the AI-everywhere approach in Windows and refocusing on core stability, with Paul Thurrott describing the shift as “something happened,” which from a journalist who has spent years documenting Windows’ decline with the exhausted precision of someone watching a building settle incorrectly reads as cautious acknowledgment rather than optimism. Whether that represents genuine reprioritization or noise management ahead of a Windows 12 announcement nobody has officially confirmed is the question worth watching.

Rebuilding trust after Recall, after a year of destabilizing updates, after years of treating the world’s most consequential operating system as a demo environment for products the market never asked for, takes considerably longer than a few stable patches and a tonal reset in engineering blog posts. The millions of people still on Windows 10, knowingly running an unsupported OS past its expiration date, made a rational call: the known risks of yesterday’s software beat the unpredictable risks of an OS whose roadmap is driven by whatever Microsoft needs to show investors next quarter. That is not the normal frustration cycle where users grumble and eventually upgrade. It is a trust deficit built through years of consistent bad decisions, and a few good patch cycles will not close it. The easiest tech recommendation in the world has become a pause, and the people responsible for that pause are too deep in Azure dashboards to understand what it actually costs.

The post Microsoft Broke the Only Thing That Actually Mattered first appeared on Yanko Design.

This Chair doubles as a Floor Lamp for quirky, multipurpose furniture for tiny homes

Most furniture is remarkably obedient. It goes where you put it, does what it was designed to do, and asks nothing back. A sofa is a sofa. A side table holds your coffee and your remote and maybe a plant you keep meaning to water. The relationship is comfortable, uncomplicated, and, if you’re honest about it, a little dull.

JXY Studio’s Art-chitecture modular furniture system is not obedient. Designed by Jiaxun Xu and Yue Xu, it’s built from just two materials, stainless steel and frosted acrylic, and assembled through a modular logic that lets the same set of components become a chair, a lamp, a wall sconce, a shelf, or something that doesn’t quite have a name yet. The system isn’t asking you to commit to a function. It’s asking you to keep questioning one.

Designer: JXY Studio

The physical language of the pieces is striking right away. The steel frame is exposed and structural, bolted together with visible hardware that reads more like small-scale architecture than furniture. The frosted acrylic panels diffuse light from within, so what sits in a corner as a cubic seat by day can glow like a softbox lantern at night. One configuration mounts flat against a brick wall as a sconce. Another rests on a wooden deck with a cushion tucked inside, a side table, a pet perch, a seat, take your pick. A Pomeranian pokes its head out of one in the project photos, looking entirely at home, which tells you something about the generosity of this design.

What JXY Studio is really pushing back against is the way furniture has historically been judged: by material, proportion, craftsmanship, and style. Those things matter, but that framework also quietly boxes furniture in. It positions an object as an accessory defined by aesthetic labels rather than as a force that actively shapes how a space feels. The Art-chitecture system rejects that framing. Its position is that a chair can be a spatial element, not just a seat.

I find this genuinely compelling, partly because it mirrors conversations happening across other design disciplines. In tech, modularity and open systems have been the standard for decades. In architecture, adaptive reuse and flexible programming have become almost expected. But furniture, the thing we touch and use more than almost any other designed object, has largely stayed categorical. The Art-chitecture system asks the obvious question that rarely gets asked: why?

Part of what makes it feel so contemporary is the balance it strikes between precision and openness. The components are designed around standard industrial processes, but the assembly logic is simplified enough that the user becomes a co-designer. You’re not just buying a product; you’re buying a set of spatial possibilities and figuring out what to do with them. It has flat-pack ambition with a considerably more ambitious philosophy behind it.

Modularity in furniture is not, of course, a new idea. The USM Haller system has been doing its thing since the 1960s, and everything from Enzo Mari to IKEA has explored assembly logic in various ways. But Art-chitecture distinguishes itself by crossing categories entirely. It doesn’t modularize within furniture. It modularizes across the boundary between furniture and space. Stack and recombine enough of these units and they stop being objects in a room and start becoming the room itself.

There are real tradeoffs worth acknowledging. Frosted acrylic is beautiful when lit but shows wear over time. Visible bolts and steel framing require a particular aesthetic tolerance. And any system this open-ended demands a level of spatial imagination that not everyone wants to bring to a Tuesday evening at home. But those feel like worthwhile concessions for a project that is genuinely trying to expand what furniture can be.

The image I keep coming back to is from the project photos: a person seated on an illuminated cube by a window, silhouetted against sheer curtains, while someone else holds an unassembled frame nearby. It looks like a play where the set is still being built. The Art-chitecture system treats living as an ongoing act of construction, where the things you sit on and the spaces you inhabit are never quite finished. I find that idea hard to let go of.

The post This Chair doubles as a Floor Lamp for quirky, multipurpose furniture for tiny homes first appeared on Yanko Design.

Alpine’s Wildest F1 Concept Car Concept Uses a Magnetic Levitation Cockpit to Protect Its Driver

If Alpine’s 2026 season is about consolidation, about switching to Mercedes power units and clawing back from last place in the Constructors’ Championship, then HakHyeon Lee’s Alpine Horizon concept is the opposite impulse entirely. This is a designer throwing Alpine’s arrow logo onto a closed-cockpit hypercar with a magnetically levitating driver pod, wire-tethered to a chassis that borrows its DNA from Le Mans prototypes rather than anything on the F1 grid. Pierre Gasly and Franco Colapinto are busy trying to drag the real Alpine up the standings, but Lee’s concept lives in a universe where the brand already won everything and started experimenting with physics.

Alpine confirmed in February that it will withdraw from the World Endurance Championship’s Hypercar class after this season, ending a program that includes the A424’s maiden victory at Fuji in 2025. The historic Viry-Chatillon facility, home to Renault’s F1 engines for nearly 50 years, faces an uncertain future now that both the power unit program and the WEC effort are winding down. Lee’s Horizon arrives against that backdrop, a vision of Alpine as an endurance powerhouse while the real endurance team prepares for its final campaign with Charles Milesi, Ferdinand Habsburg, and Antonio Felix da Costa carrying the flag one last time.

Designer: HakHyeon Lee

The centerpiece of the Horizon is its magnetic levitation cockpit, and the idea is genuinely ambitious. Lee proposes using electromagnetic repulsion between rails on the chassis frame and magnetic devices in the cockpit pod to physically lift the driver compartment off the car’s body. The claimed benefit is a ride that absorbs sudden acceleration forces and jump sections in ways conventional suspension cannot, essentially decoupling the driver’s experience from the violence at the contact patches below. High-strength wire tethers prevent the cockpit from separating entirely, acting as a mechanical leash for what is otherwise a floating capsule.

From a safety perspective, the Horizon’s fully enclosed cockpit speaks to a debate that has followed Formula 1 since the Halo became mandatory in 2018. The FIA tested closed canopy designs before settling on the titanium Halo, and their reasoning came down to driver extraction: a closed cockpit with more structural complexity could trap a driver in a burning car. Romain Grosjean’s fiery 2020 Bahrain crash validated that thinking, with the Frenchman escaping largely unassisted while the Halo deflected the barrier from his head. But Lee’s Horizon sidesteps this entirely because closed cockpits are already standard in endurance racing, where LMDh and LMH cars run enclosed driver cells as a matter of course.

And that’s the critical distinction here. The Horizon shares almost nothing with a modern F1 car. Current F1 machines are narrow, open-wheeled, open-cockpit designs with exposed suspension and aggressive front wings dictated by FIA regulations. The Horizon sits low and wide with massive wheel arches that swallow the tires, a long rear overhang housing a substantial diffuser, and a front splitter that could double as a snowplow. Its silhouette reads as a Toyota GR010 or Porsche 963 cousin, filtered through Lee’s smooth, organic surfacing language where the canopy melts into the car’s spine without a single harsh panel gap.

Inside the cockpit, Lee imagines gimbal-mounted seats designed for what he calls “weightless racing,” working in concert with the floating pod to keep the driver’s body stable under extreme forces. It is a layered isolation system: the cockpit floats on magnets, the seat pivots on gimbals within it, and the driver theoretically experiences something closer to stillness while the car battles the track surface below. Batteries housed in the chassis power the entire magnetic levitation system, and cutaway views show them positioned low for center-of-gravity optimization.

Alpine’s real motorsport situation makes a concept like this hit differently. The F1 team finished dead last in the 2025 Constructors’ Championship, and Flavio Briatore’s stated ambition for 2026 is a modest climb to P6 on Mercedes customer power. The WEC team is running its farewell season before the Hypercar program shuts down permanently, with the Viry-Chatillon workforce of 300-plus employees facing reassignment or redundancy. Lee’s Horizon exists in none of that reality, and the gap between aspiration and circumstance is exactly what makes automotive concept design so compelling.

The post Alpine’s Wildest F1 Concept Car Concept Uses a Magnetic Levitation Cockpit to Protect Its Driver first appeared on Yanko Design.

A House In Ecuador That Climbs the Land Instead of Changing It

You approach La Miradora by moving uphill. The house sits at the highest point of a long plot in Ecuador’s central highlands, and from the start, it’s clear that the terrain is in charge. Instead of flattening the land, the design by Taller General works with its natural slope, letting the ground shape how the house is arranged, entered, and experienced.

The structure reveals itself gradually. A sequence of wooden ribs lines the exterior, spaced evenly and forming the main structural system. These ribs act as both frame and shelter, supporting the upper floor while creating deep overhangs that protect the interior from strong sun and rain. On one side, they rest on a brick base that follows the slope and disappears where the lower level fits beneath. On the other hand, the elements vary slightly in length to match the terrain and shift into metal where exposure to weather is strongest. The logic is visible everywhere. Nothing is covered or hidden.

Designer: Taller General

Before you even step inside, a ramp guides you along the edge of the house. This path lets you move around the building while staying connected to the landscape. One end of the site opens toward a ravine, the other toward a road, and the circulation route allows you to understand both conditions before entering.

The main living spaces are located on the upper level. Once you arrive there, the reason becomes obvious. From this elevation, views extend across open meadows and toward nearby volcanoes. The living room, dining area, and kitchen are organized as one continuous space, so the horizon remains visible from almost anywhere. This layout reflects how the resident couple lives day to day, placing shared spaces at the center and giving them the best vantage point.

Looking closely, you begin to notice how much of the house was resolved through direct collaboration with craftspeople. Specialists in wood, metal, ceramic, and fabric designed and built elements such as storage, lighting, stairs, partitions, and curtains as part of the architecture itself. These details are not applied later. They are integrated into the structure from the beginning.

A small loft sits above part of the upper floor. It functions as a viewing point with direct sightlines in both directions toward the surrounding mountains. The space is simple but intentional, reinforcing the idea that the house is organized around its setting rather than around decorative features.

To reach the lower level, you move down a central stair that connects the two floors without expanding the building’s footprint. This level is smaller because it is partially tucked into the slope, but it plays an important role. It is designed for visiting family and becomes more active during gatherings. Bathrooms, services, and covered parking are also located here, grouped efficiently within the structural grid.

The material palette reflects practical decisions. Construction materials are left exposed, which reduces finishing work, minimizes waste, and keeps the building process straightforward. Sustainability systems are integrated quietly: solar panels provide electricity, and water is treated through a sequence of filters and natural processes before returning to the ground.

What stands out most about La Miradora is how clearly it responds to its environment. The slope determines the section, the views determine the layout, and the climate determines the materials. Rather than imposing a form on the site, the project lets the site guide the design. Walking through it, you don’t feel like you’re touring an object placed in the landscape. You feel like you’re moving through a house that was shaped by it.

The post A House In Ecuador That Climbs the Land Instead of Changing It first appeared on Yanko Design.

NetEase is reportedly pulling funding for Yakuza creator’s studio

The hype for Gang of Dragon, the debut game from Nagoshi Studio, may already be getting derailed. According to a Bloomberg report, Chinese tech giant NetEase is going to stop financing Nagoshi Studio starting in May. Bloomberg confirmed the news with the studio's employees and a NetEase spokesperson.

The report explained that NetEase decided to cut funding to Nagoshi Studio, which was founded in 2021 by Yakuza franchise creator Toshihiro Nagoshi, after finding out the studio needed $44.4 million to complete the project. Bloomberg reported that Nagoshi Studio is trying to find new sponsors but hasn't had any success so far. The report also added that the studio can continue the project on its own, but would be responsible for paying NetEase for any associated costs to hold onto the brand or assets.

While Nagoshi Studio may have been working on Gang of Dragon since the studio's creation, the general public got a better look at the title through a trailer announcement during The Game Awards 2025. The action-adventure game set in Tokyo would star Ma Dong-Seok, a South Korean actor who starred in Train to Busan and Marvel's Eternals. As of now, Nagoshi Studio might be at risk of joining other casualties stemming from NetEase's executive decisions, like when the tech giant decided to shut down Ouka Studio in 2024.

This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/gaming/netease-is-reportedly-pulling-funding-for-yakuza-creators-studio-182945690.html?src=rss

This Custom BMW R 1300 R Superhooligan Pays Tribute To 50 Years Since Its First Daytona Victory

Fifty years ago this month, a team of engineers and riders rolled three air-cooled German boxer twins into Daytona’s paddock and lined them up against a field of screaming Japanese inline-fours that everyone assumed would bury them. Butler & Smith, BMW’s US importer at the time, had hired an aerospace engineer named Udo Gietl to prepare the R 90 S race bikes, a man who had previously worked for NASA and on Polaris submarines before turning his attention to motorcycle tuning. Gietl shortened the boxer’s horizontal cylinders to buy lean angle clearance, fitted titanium connecting rods, and replaced the stock twin rear shocks with a custom Koni monoshock adapted from a Formula 1 car.

What the bikes lacked in horsepower against the Kawasakis and Ducatis, they more than recovered in stability and handling. On March 6, 1976, Butler & Smith rider Steve McLaughlin crossed the line first in the inaugural AMA Superbike Championship Series race, with teammate Reg Pridmore a photo finish behind him. A third Butler & Smith bike, ridden by Gary Fisher, had led for several laps before a gearbox failure ended what would have been a storybook 1-2-3 sweep. BMW won that race, Pridmore won the championship at season’s end, and the Teutonic touring machine that Cycle World had nicknamed a “stone axe” had beaten the field at its own game.

Designer: BMW Motorrad

BMW Motorrad has now built the R 1300 R Superhooligan to mark that half-century anniversary, and if there is a more appropriate way to honor a chapter of racing history, it is hard to imagine what it would be. The one-off custom was assembled by a small internal team from the BMW Motorrad Custom Speed Shop, including designer Andreas Martin and color designer Theresa Stukenbrock, working from a stock R 1300 R as the foundation. The orange over carbon livery on the finished bike is an unmistakable nod to McLaughlin’s #83 R 90 S, with the race number itself relocated to a front number board mounted in place of a headlamp, a detail that communicates the build’s intent without any ambiguity.

The Ilmberger carbon bodywork wraps the boxer’s cylinders so completely that the motor reads almost like a monoblock, dissolving the traditional visual separation between engine and frame that defines most naked bikes. Blue-anodized fork legs on the extended Wilbers USD front end and matching blue frame rails on the aluminum rear subframe pull the accent color directly from McLaughlin’s 1976 livery, with additional blue brake calipers sourced from the BMW M 1000 RR superbike reinforcing the connection across the front axle.

The R 1300 R is already a serious machine in standard form, producing 145 hp and 110 lb-ft of torque from its 1,300 cc twin-cylinder boxer, but the Superhooligan’s performance upgrades go further than cosmetics. The Wilbers fork has been lengthened by 30 mm to increase lean angle clearance, a modification that directly echoes the cylinder-shortening work Gietl did to the original R 90 S for the same purpose. The M 1000 RR carbon front wheel improves steering response and reduces unsprung weight, while the Akrapovic titanium exhaust system with its carbon end silencer saves mass at the rear and adds the kind of mechanical bark that a build like this demands. CNC footpegs and fully adjustable Advik levers complete the track-ready ergonomic package. With all of it together, BMW rates the Superhooligan at 171 mph. There is no headlamp, which makes it ineligible for road registration, and while that is a minor tragedy, the bike was always going to the track rather than the street.

McLaughlin’s legacy extends well beyond that single Daytona photo finish. As the AMA’s riders’ representative through the early 1970s, he was the primary force behind getting Superbike racing elevated to national championship status in the United States, working alongside promoters and publishers to build the infrastructure that made the 1976 series possible. He later became the central figure in creating the World Superbike Championship, which launched in 1988 and remains one of motorcycle racing’s premier international series today. The AMA inducted him into its Hall of Fame, noting that without McLaughlin’s organizational work, the racing landscape the Superhooligan now celebrates might not have existed at all.

BMW Motorrad brand ambassador Nate Kern is racing the Superhooligan in round one of the Mission Foods Super Hooligan National Championship at Daytona this year, putting a competition-spec descendant of McLaughlin’s race-winning machine back on the same circuit where it all started. During the Daytona 200 weekend, the Superhooligan was displayed in the paddock alongside the original 1976 Butler & Smith R 90 S race bikes, with McLaughlin, Pridmore, Gietl, and Fisher’s daughters Heidi and Kimberly all present for the occasion. Few anniversaries in motorsport get marked with this much honesty.

The post This Custom BMW R 1300 R Superhooligan Pays Tribute To 50 Years Since Its First Daytona Victory first appeared on Yanko Design.

Apple is reportedly looking into 3D printing aluminum iPhones and Apple Watches

There could be even more 3D-printed Apple products coming in the future. According to Bloomberg's Mark Gurman, Apple is exploring ways to 3D print aluminum to make the manufacturing processes for iPhones and Apple Watches more efficient.

Gurman reported that this new production process could specifically change how Apple makes its watch casings as well as iPhone enclosures. It's not the first time Apple has tapped into 3D printing, since both the Apple Watch Ultra 3 and Series 11 were partially built with 3D-printed titanium that's 100 percent recycled. More recently, Apple used its 3D printing process to create the titanium USB-C port for the iPhone Air, which was touted as thinner, stronger and more environmentally friendly.

While Apple is reportedly only looking into 3D-printed aluminum right now, it could possibly result in an overall cheaper manufacturing process and lower starting prices for iPhones. Looking at Apple's just-announced MacBook Neo, the company introduced a new manufacturing process that saves on the amount of aluminum used, helping to achieve the $599 starting price for its latest entry-level laptop. Like the colorful MacBook Neo, Gurman also reported that Apple is planning to use a "refreshed color palette" for its iMac reveal later this year.

This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/mobile/smartphones/apple-is-reportedly-looking-into-3d-printing-aluminum-iphones-and-apple-watches-163721491.html?src=rss

Samsung Patent Unveils a Galaxy Z Flip 8 with Dual Outer Displays

Samsung Patent Unveils a Galaxy Z Flip 8 with Dual Outer Displays Patent-style drawing shows a Galaxy Z Flip 8 with a wraparound outer screen and circular cutout.

Samsung continues to push the boundaries of foldable smartphone technology with its highly anticipated Galaxy Z Flip 8 and Galaxy Z Fold 8 models. Leaks and patents have sparked widespread interest, hinting at potentially new features. Among these are a dual-display design for the Galaxy Z Flip 8 and advanced privacy-focused technology for the Galaxy […]

The post Samsung Patent Unveils a Galaxy Z Flip 8 with Dual Outer Displays appeared first on Geeky Gadgets.

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