
Rocketing DRAM prices could mean that budget smartphones effectively disappear as a category next year. CC-licensed photo by Didit Putra on Flickr.
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A selection of 9 links for you. One in the hand. I’m @charlesarthur on Twitter. On Threads: charles_arthur. On Mastodon: https://newsie.social/@charlesarthur. On Bluesky: @charlesarthur.bsky.social. Observations and links welcome.
World’s largest data centre campus project, Virginia Digital Gateway, dies over a newspaper-notice technicality • Tom’s Hardware
Etiido Uko:
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Data center developer QTS has officially terminated plans to build a portion of the planned 2,100-acre “Digital Gateway” data centre campus in Virginia, following years of legal battles with local residents and historic preservation groups. According to a Bloomberg report, the Blackstone-owned company formally submitted a written filing to the Virginia Supreme Court on July 2, explicitly stating it was withdrawing its last remaining appeal “after careful consideration”.
QTS’s withdrawal marked the official end of the project, as other stakeholders had earlier pulled out due to prolonged litigation. In a major win for opponents of the data centre, the proposed land — situated at the edge of the Manassas National Battlefield Park, a historic Civil War battlefield — will now remain under its original rural zoning restrictions.
Digital Gateway was a planned massive 22-million-square-foot, gigawatt-scale data centre complex in Prince William County, Virginia, that would have been the world’s largest. QTS was responsible for 800+ of the 2,100 acres, while a second developer, Compass Datacenters, controlled roughly 800-1,000 acres. The rest of the designated 2,100-acre “Digital Gateway” zone consisted of local roadways, environmental buffer zones, and parcels belonging to individual homeowners who had agreed to sell.
Initially approved by the Prince William Board of County Supervisors to capitalize on the soaring demand for AI and cloud computing, the project immediately faced fierce opposition from residents, despite the promise of tens of billions of dollars in capital investment and substantial local tax revenue.
…Several lawsuits followed, with the one that appears to have eventually collapsed the massive project hinging on an ironically small detail. The landmark mega project — roughly double New York’s Central Park’s size with city-sized power needs — collapsed in a domino effect after Virginia courts voided the county’s initial rezoning approval due to improper public notices. The newspaper notices publicizing the hearing at which the project was approved weren’t separated by at least six days, as mandated by state and local codes at that time, thereby invalidating the hearing and the resulting approval.
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First domino?
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Return of the Nigerian Prince redux: beware book club and book review scams • Writer Beware
Victoria Strauss:
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A characteristic of the Philippine and Pakistani scams I’ve written so much about on this blog is that they focus almost exclusively on writers who’ve self-published or who are seeking self-publication. Writers like me, who’ve only ever published traditionally, are hardly ever targeted.
The Nigerian scams are different: they target anyone with a published book. As a result, I’ve suddenly started to receive the kinds of scam solicitations that have been driving self-pubbed writers nuts for years. So this saga of yet another Nigerian PR scam is brought to you not by an author whose name and book title have been carefully redacted, but by…moi.
This scam sends out elaborate email solicitations pitching book reviews from private communities of (supposedly) thousands of passionate book lovers. Of course it’s not free: reviewers get a “tip” of anywhere from $20 to $30. That may not sound like a lot, but you have to commit to a minimum buy of between 30 and 50 reviewers. So not such a small investment after all.
Here’s the solicitation I received at my personal email address. It’s typical of the type, including the extensive (and pretty accurate) personalization, over-the-top flattery, lashings of emojis, and faux-edgy style. (Note to scammers: Chatbots can generate flawlessly grammatical English and incorporate perfectly correct details, but they can’t warn you which parts of a person’s resume should alarm you.)
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If any of you have ever written a book then like me you’ll almost certainly have received one of these scam attempts. Mine pretended to be an American book club attached to a library, which exists; I did check with the library, which assured me it was nothing to do with them. Strauss has been collecting details about these scams since last year, updating as she goes, and the detail is fascinating. But, equally, the tedium of scammers still slogging away doesn’t change; just the methods. Time was when the “Nigerian price” scam literally came on typewritten letters.
Also – will they try this scam on AI-written books and AI authors? Big ouroboros potential.
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The AI superforecasters are here • Astral Codex Ten
Scott Alexander:
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An AI superforecaster is an AI – usually a frontier model like ChatGPT or Claude – which has been modified to be good at forecasting. This usually means a “scaffold” – a program that handholds it through a long research process with various prompts, tools, advice about when to create subagents, etc. The overall experience is a lot like using any other AI, but slower and more expensive, because it’s doing more work.
This might make more sense with an example. FutureSearch – the company that claims to be beating the stock market – kindly offered to let me try their AI superforecaster and write about it here.
For a test question – some Silicon Valley philanthropists recently started a project to end respiratory infections like the common cold. I decided to ask about their chances of success. Since forecasters need very precise questions, I asked how likely it was that the rate of colds would be cut in half by 2040. By two minutes in, the AI had deployed three subagents, read 16 websites, and (at the exact moment I took this screenshot) was “investigating the scalability of ASHRAE Standard 241 air cleaning technology for widespread residential adoption by 2040.”
After five minutes, it had its answer: the chance of US respiratory infections halving by 2040 was 7%. [212 sources were offered.] The forecast had taken five minutes and cost me $8 in credits.
But is it true? Ideally we would wait until 2040 and see. For now, I started by comparing its answer to another superforecaster AI. Preseen is the company that claimed to 100,000x their seed money on Kalshi. Here’s their answer: 8.8% compared to FutureSearch’s 7%, not bad!
Are either of these true? I asked a human superforecaster to predict this question, to see if she got the same as the AI. She said that depending on an ambiguity in the wording, she would give it 5-10%. Again, not bad!
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So what might the future look like, with AI superforecasters?
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If the trendline does keep going, things start changing quickly. Finance gets transformed first, as human stock analysts go the way of horse-drawn carriages and kerosene lamps. The opportunity for smart humans to consistently make money on prediction markets likewise dries up – instead, bots duel other bots for the privilege of collecting money from dumb sports fans.
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We really haven’t thought enough about what a machine-intermediated future of transactions looks like. Would it kill sports betting? Or just encourage people to spend more on superforecasting bots?
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How Google and AI nearly made a seasoned reporter spiral • ProPublica
Justin Elliott:
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Last month, my colleagues and I published an investigation into a Texas oil refinery startup, America First Refining, that had secretly gotten investment from Donald Trump Jr. We discovered a saga involving the Trump administration’s tariff policy, sanctioned Russian oil and an Indian billionaire family’s private zoo.
At the center of the story was the CEO of the refinery company, Texas businessman John Calce. We’d spent weeks examining Calce — pulling old lawsuits, property records, corporate registry filings — and had pieced together a portrait of what appeared to be an obscure serial entrepreneur who’d for years tried and failed to secure funding for his long-shot refinery project.
Then, not long before our story was set to publish, we decided to do a scrub on a separate company he had incorporated called Brownsville Energy Storage Terminals.
Pulling up the company’s website, I felt a brief flash of panic: Had we somehow missed the existence of a major business owned by the man at the center of our next story?
“From Houston to Rotterdam, Jurong to Fujairah. Our network connects the world’s most vital energy markets with speed, safety, and precision bulk oil storage,” announced the front page of the company’s website.
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Had he missed it?
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No: We checked the site’s domain registration, and we had our (apparent) answer: It was created this year and traced back to a company called Hostinger that offers an AI website builder for $2.99 per month. “Describe it, and AI builds it,” its homepage says. “Appear on Google and AI search automatically.”
Indeed, Google’s “AI Overview” search response, now thrust on users by default with more and more regularity, seemed to ratify the company’s bona fides.
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It was always possible to build sites for fictitious companies, but given how people trust the AI Overview, this is a bigger problem now.
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Trump’s Freedom 250 gives the founders an AI glow-up • CNN
Leah Asmelash and T.M. Brown:
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Meet Dr. Benjamin Rush, the illustrious physician, academic, and Founding Father, as presented in the gallery of founders on the Freedom 250 website. His brow is porcelain-smooth and suffused with light, his locks glossy and curled, his nose straight and regular. He stands upright with his head slightly tilted, an index finger laid coyly against his cheekbone, looking directly at the viewer with methylene-blue eyes and a faint smile.
Paintings of Rush made in his lifetime depicted a man with flat hair and long, pinched features. An 1812 portrait by Thomas Sully presented him with a long, downturned nose and corners of his mouth to match, leaning on one hand at his desk and gazing over the pages of an open book.
The luminous, unreal Rush of Freedom 250 — the nonprofit spun up to lead the Trump administration’s efforts to take control of this year’s semiquincentennial events — looks like some other person altogether, from some other era. Or like no person from no time at all: A digital watermark on the image identifies it as the product of Google’s generative AI.
And he has plenty of company. To educate the public about the semiquincentennial, Trump’s anniversary organization has given all of the dozens of Revolutionary War-era figures in the gallery similar artificial glow-ups, or entirely fictitious faces.
The men’s hairstyles, and often their physiognomies, frequently seem to converge on the canonical portrait of George Washington by Gilbert Stuart. They wear overwhelmingly similar clothing and repeat the same set of poses over and over. And they share the AI watermark.
One small subsection of the gallery features four “Ladies of the Revolution,” generally swan-necked, snub-nosed, and dressed in near-identical clothes. These women, the public historian Isabelle Roughol noted this week in a widely viewed video, are particularly anachronistic. Dolley Madison, shown as an adult woman, would have been 8 years old at the time of the revolution. (Martha Washington, called “Lady Washington” and a key figure of the war, is notably absent.)
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For this to make an impact requires someone involved to be capable of shame. But there is nobody attached to the Trump administration capable of feeling that sensation. And it would also require the public to be more annoyed than to think that this is absolutely typical of the Trump administration. The only surprise, and relief, is that they didn’t mint a Freedom250 cryptocoin whose supply they already controlled and would sell to the public.
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AI could wipe out budget smartphones in 2027 • WCCFTECH
Omar Sohail:
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The DRAM supply situation is predicted to worsen for consumer electronics next year, with multiple industry watchers believing that a grim future for budget handsets could materialize in 2027. Thanks to AI centres gobbling up existing DRAM shipments, which could account for more than 60% in the near future, phone makers will have a negligible supply to work with, forcing them to have little option but to raise prices.
Even with a class-action lawsuit [alleging collusion] aimed directly at Samsung, SK Hynix, and Micron, the DRAM price situation won’t be controlled, with a report from MyDrivers stating that, by the end of 2026, more than half of the memory supply will already be used in AI computing. Naturally, this supply disparity means smartphone companies, including Apple, will not just have to deal with higher prices but also tackle the need to obtain adequate supply.
The report mentions that budget handsets in the 1,500 yuan ($220) bracket could cease to exist in 2027, as experts believe that storage costs will now account for 60% of a smartphone’s price, making it next to impossible for companies to generate any margin without resorting to massive hikes. Research firm IDC estimates that smartphone shipments will fall to their lowest since 2013, with PC shipments also witnessing a nosedive.
With Samsung, SK Hynix, and Micron controlling 90% of the world’s DRAM supply, the only light at the end of the tunnel comes in the form of China’s CXMT and YMTC. While supplying local chips to companies like Huawei, Xiaomi, OPPO, and others will be no issue for these manufacturers, other firms have to navigate a ton of geopolitical hurdles to bring them into the fold.
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So people are going to hold on to their phones for an extra year or two. Good time to be in the smartphone repair business.
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Japan man rents wife’s murder flat for 26 years to preserve crime scene in hope of solution • South China Morning Post
Alice Yan:
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A grieving husband in Japan paid rent on the empty “haunted house” in which his wife was murdered for 26 years in the hope of uncovering clues about who killed her.
His hopes were finally realised when the suspect gave herself up to police in Nagoya, central Japan. She was the man’s classmate at secondary school and had a crush on him.
The case attracted public attention after it was reported by the news outlet NHK in early November. The murder took place on November 13, 1999, when housewife Namiko Takaba was found dead at home. She had been stabbed in the neck with a sharp object multiple times. Her two-year-old son was left uninjured by her side.
The authorities put 100,000 police officers on the case and 5,000 people were interviewed to no avail. The only clues investigators unearthed were that the suspect was a female with type B blood, she was about 1.6m tall and had been wearing shoes 24cm in length. The police also issued a reward in their hunt for the killer.
In the hope of preserving the crime scene, the victim’s husband, Satoru Takaba, left the property empty for the past 26 years. He and his son lived elsewhere. Takaba never remarried.
The total amount of rent he paid for the empty flat over that period was 22 million yen (US$145,000).
He left every item in the house and did not clean the bloodstains because he was waiting for a breakthrough in the investigation, he told the media. Also, he often distributed fliers on the street and accepted media interviews to call on the public to provide clues.
Last year, the police reopened the investigation and refocused their probe on people related to the family. On October 30, 69-year-old Kumiko Yasufuku surrendered to the police.
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The rent works out at about $5,580 per year, or $465 per month (assuming no increases). That’s quite the sacrifice.
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Life at the end of the metaverse • Prospect Magazine
James Ball:
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Zuckerberg has a good claim to being the first person to try to build the first full metaverse, with Horizon Worlds. His company would build the hardware and infrastructure, but anyone could build a world within his metaverse, people could trade and interact within it, and the metaverse would always be on.
Crucially, unlike the dreamers who went before him, Zuckerberg had the tens of billions of dollars that it would take to build something like this. It is easy to quote the figure of $80bn—the cumulative losses to date of Meta’s metaverse division—and move on without appreciating what an astronomical sum it is.
$80bn is enough to give £2,000 to every single household in the United Kingdom. It is nearly 10 years of the UK’s international aid budget. You could comfortably purchase every single club in the Premier League for such a sum, and have plenty of money left over. It could cover the UN’s humanitarian fundraising target for 2026—designed to support 87m desperate people worldwide—twice over.
Zuckerberg did not commit funding on this level out of some sense of charity. Had the metaverse won, the prize was commensurately huge: a chance to take a percentage of every transaction, like the Apple store does with apps but on a planetary scale. Meta was, by far, the company most committed to the idea of the metaverse, but it was far from the only one. Apple designed a top-specification VR headset selling for thousands of pounds, while Google and others battled to keep up.
History, though, is littered with the mistakes of major companies that bet on virtual reality too early, only to suffer extensive public humiliation and financial loss. In 1995, at the peak of its powers, Nintendo launched the Virtual Boy, a 3D system the company’s president promised “will transport game players into a ‘virtual utopia’ with sights and sounds unlike anything they’ve ever experienced”. It would, executives promised, sell three million units and 14m games cartridges in its first year alone.
In reality, the Virtual Boy was discontinued in Japan within six months of its launch, and worldwide in less than a year.
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At this point one has to think that VR is just not going to happen. It’s been tried enough times, but humans like real-world contact.
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Goose, a new gay dating app, appears to be a psyop • WIRED
EJ Dickson :
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The Instagram Close Friends Story for @miles.sumrall shows an affable-looking guy with curly dark hair and an expertly groomed mustache beaming as he floats on the water. “You’re receiving this because you’re exactly the type of person we’re building this for,” the caption reads, accompanied by a code for an invite to a “members only community.”
The link leads to a login for Goose, a dating and friendship app for gay men with the slogan “for the boys,” which allows users to “meet guys through the life you already have,” according to its website.
The problem is that @miles.sumrall does not appear to be real. Neither does @danielmmulugeta, the cute dark-haired influencer who shared the above caption, with the exact same verbiage, on his Close Friends’ Stories. Both accounts were created in May 2026 and have fewer than 10 posts as well as a high following-to-follower ratio. And both of their Instagram avatars were determined with greater than 90% confidence to be AI-generated, according to the AI Image Detector software. A SynthID check on Google Gemini, which can help identify AI-generated images, also found that “most or all of” Miles’ and Daniel’s profile photos were created using Google AI.
Created by the model-influencer Derek Chadwick, as well as former BeReal growth and community manager David Aliagas, Goose positions itself as a Grindr alternative for gay men who want to build lasting relationships. At the time that it was announced, many scoffed at the idea that the app would be used for anything other than finding casual hookups. “Goose is basically Pokémon Ho,” one X user joked.
…Often, the accounts followed potential members and added them to their Close Friends Stories, but sometimes they directly DMed them to encourage them to sign up, as was the case with Dalton Bauer, who works in marketing and received a DM from a user named @lucalepkowski. “Hey! Okay this might feel random but felt you’d be interested :),” the message begins before inviting Bauer to the Goose community, using language identical to that of the one Cheam received from Alistair.
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So what would be the aim here? A couple that come to mind: pig butchering; or finding influential people and blackmailing them over their use of a gay dating app.
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| • Why do social networks drive us a little mad? • Why does angry content seem to dominate what we see? • How much of a role do algorithms play in affecting what we see and do online? • What can we do about it? • Did Facebook have any inkling of what was coming in Myanmar in 2016? Read Social Warming, my latest book, and find answers – and more. |
Errata, corrigenda and ai no corrida: none notified








