Top Stories Daily

over a year ago, i gave a talk at the xoxo conference about a mural, a mcdonald’s, and a man. (but it was also secretly about life, and legacy, and meaning.)

finally, i’m blogging the full story, with behind-the-scenes details, and a video of the talk.

i hope you enjoy this read. https://cabel.com/wes-cook-and-the-mcdonalds-mural/

over a year ago, i gave a talk at the xoxo conference about a mural, a mcdonald’s, and a man. (but it was also secretly about life, and legacy, and meaning.)

finally, i’m blogging the full story, with behind-the-scenes details, and a video of the talk.

i hope you enjoy this read. https://cabel.com/wes-cook-and-the-mcdonalds-mural/

over a year ago, i gave a talk at the xoxo conference about a mural, a mcdonald’s, and a man. (but it was also secretly about life, and legacy, and meaning.)

finally, i’m blogging the full story, with behind-the-scenes details, and a video of the talk.

i hope you enjoy this read. https://cabel.com/wes-cook-and-the-mcdonalds-mural/

over a year ago, i gave a talk at the xoxo conference about a mural, a mcdonald’s, and a man. (but it was also secretly about life, and legacy, and meaning.)

finally, i’m blogging the full story, with behind-the-scenes details, and a video of the talk.

i hope you enjoy this read. https://cabel.com/wes-cook-and-the-mcdonalds-mural/

Wes Cook and The McDonald’s Mural: Cabel Sasser tells the full behind-the-scenes story of one of the best XOXO talks ever https://cabel.com/wes-cook-and-the-mcdonalds-mural/

over a year ago, i gave a talk at the xoxo conference about a mural, a mcdonald’s, and a man. (but it was also secretly about life, and legacy, and meaning.)

finally, i’m blogging the full story, with behind-the-scenes details, and a video of the talk.

i hope you enjoy this read. https://cabel.com/wes-cook-and-the-mcdonalds-mural/

Wes Cook and The McDonald’s Mural: Cabel Sasser tells the full behind-the-scenes story of one of the best XOXO talks ever https://cabel.com/wes-cook-and-the-mcdonalds-mural/

over a year ago, i gave a talk at the xoxo conference about a mural, a mcdonald’s, and a man. (but it was also secretly about life, and legacy, and meaning.)

finally, i’m blogging the full story, with behind-the-scenes details, and a video of the talk.

i hope you enjoy this read. https://cabel.com/wes-cook-and-the-mcdonalds-mural/

over a year ago, i gave a talk at the xoxo conference about a mural, a mcdonald’s, and a man. (but it was also secretly about life, and legacy, and meaning.)

finally, i’m blogging the full story, with behind-the-scenes details, and a video of the talk.

i hope you enjoy this read. https://cabel.com/wes-cook-and-the-mcdonalds-mural/

over a year ago, i gave a talk at the xoxo conference about a mural, a mcdonald’s, and a man. (but it was also secretly about life, and legacy, and meaning.)

finally, i’m blogging the full story, with behind-the-scenes details, and a video of the talk.

i hope you enjoy this read. https://cabel.com/wes-cook-and-the-mcdonalds-mural/

‘Britain’s construction quality crisis isn’t a mystery, but the logical outcome of political choices. It’s the result of deregulation, privatisation and allowing the primacy of cost-cutting profiteers to supplant quality control and craft. When you rob building of its dignity, you don’t get efficiency; you get mould, leaks and devastating repair bills at every rung of the social ladder.’

I see this daily in the poor quality of new build social housing…but it’s everywhere
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/feb/11/uk-housing-building-standards-one-hyde-park

"Jones says there seems to be a devaluing of practical skills in schools – a process kickstarted when Britain’s Skills Training Agency, which had for decades offered rigorous tuition across a variety of vocations, was sold off under the Thatcher government. Despite warnings that privatisation would be unsustainable and could lead to asset-stripping and lower-quality courses, the Conservatives flogged the organisation to a private company in 1990 that went bust only three years later."

#NeoliberalParadise

Britain’s building standards are now so bad, even the super-rich are facing housing misery
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/feb/11/uk-housing-building-standards-one-hyde-park

"Jones says there seems to be a devaluing of practical skills in schools – a process kickstarted when Britain’s Skills Training Agency, which had for decades offered rigorous tuition across a variety of vocations, was sold off under the Thatcher government. Despite warnings that privatisation would be unsustainable and could lead to asset-stripping and lower-quality courses, the Conservatives flogged the organisation to a private company in 1990 that went bust only three years later."

#NeoliberalParadise

Britain’s building standards are now so bad, even the super-rich are facing housing misery
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/feb/11/uk-housing-building-standards-one-hyde-park

#NeoliberalParadise

Britain’s building standards are now so bad, even the super-rich are facing housing misery
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/feb/11/uk-housing-building-standards-one-hyde-park

‘Britain’s construction quality crisis isn’t a mystery, but the logical outcome of political choices. It’s the result of deregulation, privatisation and allowing the primacy of cost-cutting profiteers to supplant quality control and craft. When you rob building of its dignity, you don’t get efficiency; you get mould, leaks and devastating repair bills at every rung of the social ladder.’

I see this daily in the poor quality of new build social housing…but it’s everywhere
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/feb/11/uk-housing-building-standards-one-hyde-park

Britain’s building standards are now so bad, even the super-rich are facing housing misery | Phineas Harper https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/feb/11/uk-housing-building-standards-one-hyde-park #Housing #ConstructionIndustry #Property #Communities #Society #Business #UkNews

‘Britain’s construction quality crisis isn’t a mystery, but the logical outcome of political choices. It’s the result of deregulation, privatisation and allowing the primacy of cost-cutting profiteers to supplant quality control and craft. When you rob building of its dignity, you don’t get efficiency; you get mould, leaks and devastating repair bills at every rung of the social ladder.’

I see this daily in the poor quality of new build social housing…but it’s everywhere
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/feb/11/uk-housing-building-standards-one-hyde-park

‘Britain’s construction quality crisis isn’t a mystery, but the logical outcome of political choices. It’s the result of deregulation, privatisation and allowing the primacy of cost-cutting profiteers to supplant quality control and craft. When you rob building of its dignity, you don’t get efficiency; you get mould, leaks and devastating repair bills at every rung of the social ladder.’

I see this daily in the poor quality of new build social housing…but it’s everywhere
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/feb/11/uk-housing-building-standards-one-hyde-park

‘Britain’s construction quality crisis isn’t a mystery, but the logical outcome of political choices. It’s the result of deregulation, privatisation and allowing the primacy of cost-cutting profiteers to supplant quality control and craft. When you rob building of its dignity, you don’t get efficiency; you get mould, leaks and devastating repair bills at every rung of the social ladder.’

I see this daily in the poor quality of new build social housing…but it’s everywhere
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/feb/11/uk-housing-building-standards-one-hyde-park

‘Britain’s construction quality crisis isn’t a mystery, but the logical outcome of political choices. It’s the result of deregulation, privatisation and allowing the primacy of cost-cutting profiteers to supplant quality control and craft. When you rob building of its dignity, you don’t get efficiency; you get mould, leaks and devastating repair bills at every rung of the social ladder.’

I see this daily in the poor quality of new build social housing…but it’s everywhere
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/feb/11/uk-housing-building-standards-one-hyde-park

Building the camps https://degenerateart.beehiiv.com/p/building-the-camps

"the express repetition of a project on the scale of the larger concentration camp systems in history"

citizens' united is one (of many) factors leading to this moment

https://degenerateart.beehiiv.com/p/building-the-camps

#uspol

When I got the contract to write a history of concentration camps in 2014, I hoped to keep the US from ending up here. That didn't work out! But now it's critical to understand how much is already in process and the enormity of what's coming. The sooner we act to stop it, the more people we'll save. https://degenerateart.beehiiv.com/p/building-the-camps

“When I got the contract to write a history of concentration camps in 2014, I really hoped to keep the US from ending up where it is today. That part didn't work out. But now, it's critical to understand how much is already underway, and the enormity of what's coming. The sooner we act to stop it, the more people we can save, and the less infrastructure there will be to dismantle in the future.” https://degenerateart.beehiiv.com/p/building-the-camps

When I got the contract to write a history of concentration camps in 2014, I hoped to keep the US from ending up here. That didn't work out! But now it's critical to understand how much is already in process and the enormity of what's coming. The sooner we act to stop it, the more people we'll save. https://degenerateart.beehiiv.com/p/building-the-camps

https://degenerateart.beehiiv.com/p/building-the-camps

"the express repetition of a project on the scale of the larger concentration camp systems in history"

citizens' united is one (of many) factors leading to this moment

https://degenerateart.beehiiv.com/p/building-the-camps

#uspol

When I got the contract to write a history of concentration camps in 2014, I hoped to keep the US from ending up here. That didn't work out! But now it's critical to understand how much is already in process and the enormity of what's coming. The sooner we act to stop it, the more people we'll save. https://degenerateart.beehiiv.com/p/building-the-camps

When I got the contract to write a history of concentration camps in 2014, I hoped to keep the US from ending up here. That didn't work out! But now it's critical to understand how much is already in process and the enormity of what's coming. The sooner we act to stop it, the more people we'll save. https://degenerateart.beehiiv.com/p/building-the-camps

“When I got the contract to write a history of concentration camps in 2014, I really hoped to keep the US from ending up where it is today. That part didn't work out. But now, it's critical to understand how much is already underway, and the enormity of what's coming. The sooner we act to stop it, the more people we can save, and the less infrastructure there will be to dismantle in the future.” https://degenerateart.beehiiv.com/p/building-the-camps

FOSDEM 2026: The Kid Who Dreamed of Hackers Found Them in Brussels

Summary: A kid from a small Mexican town dreamed of finding real-life hackers. Two decades later, he flew his family to Brussels and spoke at one of the world’s largest open-source conferences. This is that story.

“We reject: kings, presidents and voting. We believe in: rough consensus and running code.” – David D. Clark

The Dream

When I was a young hacker—yeah, believe it or not—my dream was to find other hackers in real life and just hang out together. That’s it. That was the whole dream.

It sounds modest now, but you have to understand the context. I come from a very small town in Mexico, the kind of place where internet was a luxury, Linux was a word nobody recognized, and “Windows” was mostly what you opened to let the heat out. The idea of attending a tech conference was absurd. Attending one in English? In another country? That was pure science fiction—like telling my block friends about Dragon Ball Z spoilers I’d read online, except even less believable.

But with time, and a painfully slow DSL connection, I found my people. I stumbled into the local Linux user group—fewer than ten of us in a city of thousands—and we built something from nothing. A hackerspace. Community events. Workshops with maybe a dozen attendees if we were lucky. Eventually, I found my way to national conferences and even talked at a few of them. Each one felt like a small victory, a tiny crack in the wall between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The Shot

So when the opportunity to submit a talk to FOSDEM 2026 appeared, I just shot my shot.

I did it almost by instinct, without overthinking it. FOSDEM—the Free and Open Source Software Developers’ European Meeting—is one of the largest open-source conferences in the world. Thousands of developers, hundreds of talks, legendary project booths. It had always been a place that existed on the other side of a dream for me. But here’s the thing: I’m more financially stable now, I’ve traveled to Europe for both leisure and work, and I speak comfortable (but still heavily accented) English. I’ve made peace with my accent—it’s part of the package, take it or leave it.

So, why not? The real surprise was that I hadn’t applied before.

The Logistics of Madness

When my proposed talk was accepted, my first reaction wasn’t joy—it was panic. The kind of panic you feel when you push to main and then read the diff. The real problem was logistics.

I already had a trip to Mexico planned for personal reasons. Going to FOSDEM meant extending the family travel by a week, rerouting flights, and solving the kind of logistical puzzle that makes your brain hurt. Tepic, a small city in the mountains of western Mexico → Mexico City → London → Brussels. With a seven-year-old. And a month’s worth of luggage packed for both the scorching Mexican beach and a freezing European winter—flip-flops sharing suitcase space with thermal jackets, sunscreen next to wool scarves. And sanity (debatable).

After my wife—bless her patience—said “just go for it,” and after numerous conversations with both AI and non-AI advisors about how to make it less stressful, we committed. At the end of January, I found myself at the tiny airport of Tepic, eating the most amazing torta de pierna, beginning an absurd journey to Belgium.

We crossed through London, hopped on the Eurostar to Brussels, and somewhere between countries, we lost a pillow—a bear-shaped one my kid had shamelessly stolen from his grandma. Rest in peace, little bear pillow. You survived a Mexican grandmother’s house only to perish somewhere in the English Channel.

The Candy Store

And then, there I was. At FOSDEM. With my kid. In Brussels.

The place was electric. People from every imaginable background wandered through the halls of the Université libre de Bruxelles. I’ll be honest—there’s still a noticeable lack of diversity, especially in gender representation—but the energy was undeniable. It felt like a living, breathing monument to what open source can be.

Seeing the project booths was like being a kid in a candy store—except I literally had a kid with me in this candy store. Mozilla, Thunderbird, Let’s Encrypt, SUSE, and of course Mastodon, to name a few. I couldn’t help myself; I told my son that when I was young, one of my first dreams was to work for SUSE. He listened carefully, the way seven-year-olds do when they’re filing away information for later use (probably to embarrass me at dinner).

Keeping a seven-year-old entertained at a developer conference is its own extreme sport. Thankfully, a friend I hadn’t seen in over a decade was there—with his kid. He’s a no-gringo, a Dutchman who happens to have worked at Innox in Mexico. Our kids hit it off, and suddenly the conference had a parallel track: unsupervised children’s chaos edition.

The Talk

When the time came for my talk, I walked in, set up, and delivered something far from perfect—but unmistakably mine. I stumbled on a couple of words, my accent was thick, and I’m sure I made at least one joke that only landed for me. But that’s the style. That’s always been the style.

Just before stepping up, Elena handed me the most fabulous FOSDEM sweater in existence. People noticed. People asked where to get one. But no—only I could have it. Exclusive distribution, zero units available. (Okay fine, I was just lucky, but let me have this moment.)

If I have one regret, it’s not spending more time in other talks. It’s not that I didn’t try—I did—but balancing a seven-year-old’s attention span with a conference schedule is a negotiation no diplomacy course prepares you for. I caught fragments, glimpses, enough to know I was missing incredible stuff. But that’s the thing about FOSDEM: it’s not a one-time event. I’ll be back. And next time, I want to do more than speak—I want to listen, linger, and actually have those hallway conversations that everyone says are the best part of any conference.

The Kid and the Dream

Here’s what got me, though. The part I didn’t expect.

My kid watched me speak at FOSDEM. He didn’t fully understand the content—he’s seven, and ActivityPub isn’t exactly bedtime story material—but he saw his dad on a stage, in front of a room full of people, in another continent, talking about something he built. When the Q&A started, he wanted to raise his hand. He got shy, though, and didn’t. Later, visibly upset about his missed opportunity, he told me what he wanted to ask: “Do you play Minecraft?” In front of an auditorium full of open-source developers discussing federation protocols, my kid’s burning question was about Minecraft. I love this human being more than I can express.

He asked questions the entire trip back: “What does SUSE do?” “Will you talk at another one?” “Can I have my own desk computer?”

He saw the booths, the projects, the people. He kept posing for photos with each open-source mascot like a tiny celebrity on a press tour. His favorite was the PostgreSQL elephant, though we were genuinely concerned about its health. Based on the state of that costume, I think he might be right—PostgreSQL could use your donations, folks. That elephant has seen better days.

And the trip back was no less insane than the trip there. Brussels → Iceland → Seattle. Because apparently, when you’re already doing something absurd, you might as well add a layover near the Arctic Circle. We landed in Reykjavík with our beach-and-winter Frankenstein luggage, stepped outside into wind that felt personally offended by our existence, and my kid asked if the land was actually made of ice. Close enough, kid. Close enough.

A week later, during a conversation with his teacher, my son was asked about the most memorable thing from the trip. He didn’t say the beach in Mexico, or the train through Europe, or the wind in Iceland, or even the lost bear pillow. He said the most memorable thing was seeing his dad talk at a university. That it made him proud (I’m not going to pretend I didn’t need a moment after hearing that).

I thought about my own childhood. About the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his town. About the dusty streets and half-built houses. About how representation works in mysterious ways—how seeing someone like you doing something impossible makes it feel possible. My son doesn’t know what it’s like to not see a path. For him, this is just what dad does. And maybe that’s the whole point.

Full Circle

Twenty years ago, I was a teenager in a small Mexican town, writing code in paper notebooks and dreaming of a world I could barely imagine. Today, I stood in Brussels and spoke to a room full of open-source developers about a project I created.

The path from there to here wasn’t straight. It was messy, full of detours, broken English, lost pillows, and more coffee than any doctor would recommend. But every step—every hackerspace meetup with eight people, every local conference talk, every late night wrestling with code—was a brick in the road that led to that stage.

And yeah, I get it, talking for half an hour at a conference with hundreds of talks may seem like a small feat. One slot among many. But it wasn’t small to me. For the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his hometown, standing in front of that room was enormous.

FOSDEM wasn’t just a conference for me. It was proof that the kid from Tepic who dreamed of finding hackers in real life finally did. They were in Brussels all along, waiting for him to show up.

And he brought his kid.

Also readable in: https://maho.dev/2026/02/fosdem-2026-the-kid-who-dreamed-of-hackers-found-them-in-brussels/ by @mapache:

#fosdem #open-source #conferences #community #travel #personal-growth #europe #public-speaking

FOSDEM 2026: The Kid Who Dreamed of Hackers Found Them in Brussels

Summary: A kid from a small Mexican town dreamed of finding real-life hackers. Two decades later, he flew his family to Brussels and spoke at one of the world’s largest open-source conferences. This is that story.

“We reject: kings, presidents and voting. We believe in: rough consensus and running code.” – David D. Clark

The Dream

When I was a young hacker—yeah, believe it or not—my dream was to find other hackers in real life and just hang out together. That’s it. That was the whole dream.

It sounds modest now, but you have to understand the context. I come from a very small town in Mexico, the kind of place where internet was a luxury, Linux was a word nobody recognized, and “Windows” was mostly what you opened to let the heat out. The idea of attending a tech conference was absurd. Attending one in English? In another country? That was pure science fiction—like telling my block friends about Dragon Ball Z spoilers I’d read online, except even less believable.

But with time, and a painfully slow DSL connection, I found my people. I stumbled into the local Linux user group—fewer than ten of us in a city of thousands—and we built something from nothing. A hackerspace. Community events. Workshops with maybe a dozen attendees if we were lucky. Eventually, I found my way to national conferences and even talked at a few of them. Each one felt like a small victory, a tiny crack in the wall between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The Shot

So when the opportunity to submit a talk to FOSDEM 2026 appeared, I just shot my shot.

I did it almost by instinct, without overthinking it. FOSDEM—the Free and Open Source Software Developers’ European Meeting—is one of the largest open-source conferences in the world. Thousands of developers, hundreds of talks, legendary project booths. It had always been a place that existed on the other side of a dream for me. But here’s the thing: I’m more financially stable now, I’ve traveled to Europe for both leisure and work, and I speak comfortable (but still heavily accented) English. I’ve made peace with my accent—it’s part of the package, take it or leave it.

So, why not? The real surprise was that I hadn’t applied before.

The Logistics of Madness

When my proposed talk was accepted, my first reaction wasn’t joy—it was panic. The kind of panic you feel when you push to main and then read the diff. The real problem was logistics.

I already had a trip to Mexico planned for personal reasons. Going to FOSDEM meant extending the family travel by a week, rerouting flights, and solving the kind of logistical puzzle that makes your brain hurt. Tepic, a small city in the mountains of western Mexico → Mexico City → London → Brussels. With a seven-year-old. And a month’s worth of luggage packed for both the scorching Mexican beach and a freezing European winter—flip-flops sharing suitcase space with thermal jackets, sunscreen next to wool scarves. And sanity (debatable).

After my wife—bless her patience—said “just go for it,” and after numerous conversations with both AI and non-AI advisors about how to make it less stressful, we committed. At the end of January, I found myself at the tiny airport of Tepic, eating the most amazing torta de pierna, beginning an absurd journey to Belgium.

We crossed through London, hopped on the Eurostar to Brussels, and somewhere between countries, we lost a pillow—a bear-shaped one my kid had shamelessly stolen from his grandma. Rest in peace, little bear pillow. You survived a Mexican grandmother’s house only to perish somewhere in the English Channel.

The Candy Store

And then, there I was. At FOSDEM. With my kid. In Brussels.

The place was electric. People from every imaginable background wandered through the halls of the Université libre de Bruxelles. I’ll be honest—there’s still a noticeable lack of diversity, especially in gender representation—but the energy was undeniable. It felt like a living, breathing monument to what open source can be.

Seeing the project booths was like being a kid in a candy store—except I literally had a kid with me in this candy store. Mozilla, Thunderbird, Let’s Encrypt, SUSE, and of course Mastodon, to name a few. I couldn’t help myself; I told my son that when I was young, one of my first dreams was to work for SUSE. He listened carefully, the way seven-year-olds do when they’re filing away information for later use (probably to embarrass me at dinner).

Keeping a seven-year-old entertained at a developer conference is its own extreme sport. Thankfully, a friend I hadn’t seen in over a decade was there—with his kid. He’s a no-gringo, a Dutchman who happens to have worked at Innox in Mexico. Our kids hit it off, and suddenly the conference had a parallel track: unsupervised children’s chaos edition.

The Talk

When the time came for my talk, I walked in, set up, and delivered something far from perfect—but unmistakably mine. I stumbled on a couple of words, my accent was thick, and I’m sure I made at least one joke that only landed for me. But that’s the style. That’s always been the style.

Just before stepping up, Elena handed me the most fabulous FOSDEM sweater in existence. People noticed. People asked where to get one. But no—only I could have it. Exclusive distribution, zero units available. (Okay fine, I was just lucky, but let me have this moment.)

If I have one regret, it’s not spending more time in other talks. It’s not that I didn’t try—I did—but balancing a seven-year-old’s attention span with a conference schedule is a negotiation no diplomacy course prepares you for. I caught fragments, glimpses, enough to know I was missing incredible stuff. But that’s the thing about FOSDEM: it’s not a one-time event. I’ll be back. And next time, I want to do more than speak—I want to listen, linger, and actually have those hallway conversations that everyone says are the best part of any conference.

The Kid and the Dream

Here’s what got me, though. The part I didn’t expect.

My kid watched me speak at FOSDEM. He didn’t fully understand the content—he’s seven, and ActivityPub isn’t exactly bedtime story material—but he saw his dad on a stage, in front of a room full of people, in another continent, talking about something he built. When the Q&A started, he wanted to raise his hand. He got shy, though, and didn’t. Later, visibly upset about his missed opportunity, he told me what he wanted to ask: “Do you play Minecraft?” In front of an auditorium full of open-source developers discussing federation protocols, my kid’s burning question was about Minecraft. I love this human being more than I can express.

He asked questions the entire trip back: “What does SUSE do?” “Will you talk at another one?” “Can I have my own desk computer?”

He saw the booths, the projects, the people. He kept posing for photos with each open-source mascot like a tiny celebrity on a press tour. His favorite was the PostgreSQL elephant, though we were genuinely concerned about its health. Based on the state of that costume, I think he might be right—PostgreSQL could use your donations, folks. That elephant has seen better days.

And the trip back was no less insane than the trip there. Brussels → Iceland → Seattle. Because apparently, when you’re already doing something absurd, you might as well add a layover near the Arctic Circle. We landed in Reykjavík with our beach-and-winter Frankenstein luggage, stepped outside into wind that felt personally offended by our existence, and my kid asked if the land was actually made of ice. Close enough, kid. Close enough.

A week later, during a conversation with his teacher, my son was asked about the most memorable thing from the trip. He didn’t say the beach in Mexico, or the train through Europe, or the wind in Iceland, or even the lost bear pillow. He said the most memorable thing was seeing his dad talk at a university. That it made him proud (I’m not going to pretend I didn’t need a moment after hearing that).

I thought about my own childhood. About the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his town. About the dusty streets and half-built houses. About how representation works in mysterious ways—how seeing someone like you doing something impossible makes it feel possible. My son doesn’t know what it’s like to not see a path. For him, this is just what dad does. And maybe that’s the whole point.

Full Circle

Twenty years ago, I was a teenager in a small Mexican town, writing code in paper notebooks and dreaming of a world I could barely imagine. Today, I stood in Brussels and spoke to a room full of open-source developers about a project I created.

The path from there to here wasn’t straight. It was messy, full of detours, broken English, lost pillows, and more coffee than any doctor would recommend. But every step—every hackerspace meetup with eight people, every local conference talk, every late night wrestling with code—was a brick in the road that led to that stage.

And yeah, I get it, talking for half an hour at a conference with hundreds of talks may seem like a small feat. One slot among many. But it wasn’t small to me. For the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his hometown, standing in front of that room was enormous.

FOSDEM wasn’t just a conference for me. It was proof that the kid from Tepic who dreamed of finding hackers in real life finally did. They were in Brussels all along, waiting for him to show up.

And he brought his kid.

Also readable in: https://maho.dev/2026/02/fosdem-2026-the-kid-who-dreamed-of-hackers-found-them-in-brussels/ by @mapache:

#fosdem #open-source #conferences #community #travel #personal-growth #europe #public-speaking

FOSDEM 2026: The Kid Who Dreamed of Hackers Found Them in Brussels

Summary: A kid from a small Mexican town dreamed of finding real-life hackers. Two decades later, he flew his family to Brussels and spoke at one of the world’s largest open-source conferences. This is that story.

“We reject: kings, presidents and voting. We believe in: rough consensus and running code.” – David D. Clark

The Dream

When I was a young hacker—yeah, believe it or not—my dream was to find other hackers in real life and just hang out together. That’s it. That was the whole dream.

It sounds modest now, but you have to understand the context. I come from a very small town in Mexico, the kind of place where internet was a luxury, Linux was a word nobody recognized, and “Windows” was mostly what you opened to let the heat out. The idea of attending a tech conference was absurd. Attending one in English? In another country? That was pure science fiction—like telling my block friends about Dragon Ball Z spoilers I’d read online, except even less believable.

But with time, and a painfully slow DSL connection, I found my people. I stumbled into the local Linux user group—fewer than ten of us in a city of thousands—and we built something from nothing. A hackerspace. Community events. Workshops with maybe a dozen attendees if we were lucky. Eventually, I found my way to national conferences and even talked at a few of them. Each one felt like a small victory, a tiny crack in the wall between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The Shot

So when the opportunity to submit a talk to FOSDEM 2026 appeared, I just shot my shot.

I did it almost by instinct, without overthinking it. FOSDEM—the Free and Open Source Software Developers’ European Meeting—is one of the largest open-source conferences in the world. Thousands of developers, hundreds of talks, legendary project booths. It had always been a place that existed on the other side of a dream for me. But here’s the thing: I’m more financially stable now, I’ve traveled to Europe for both leisure and work, and I speak comfortable (but still heavily accented) English. I’ve made peace with my accent—it’s part of the package, take it or leave it.

So, why not? The real surprise was that I hadn’t applied before.

The Logistics of Madness

When my proposed talk was accepted, my first reaction wasn’t joy—it was panic. The kind of panic you feel when you push to main and then read the diff. The real problem was logistics.

I already had a trip to Mexico planned for personal reasons. Going to FOSDEM meant extending the family travel by a week, rerouting flights, and solving the kind of logistical puzzle that makes your brain hurt. Tepic, a small city in the mountains of western Mexico → Mexico City → London → Brussels. With a seven-year-old. And a month’s worth of luggage packed for both the scorching Mexican beach and a freezing European winter—flip-flops sharing suitcase space with thermal jackets, sunscreen next to wool scarves. And sanity (debatable).

After my wife—bless her patience—said “just go for it,” and after numerous conversations with both AI and non-AI advisors about how to make it less stressful, we committed. At the end of January, I found myself at the tiny airport of Tepic, eating the most amazing torta de pierna, beginning an absurd journey to Belgium.

We crossed through London, hopped on the Eurostar to Brussels, and somewhere between countries, we lost a pillow—a bear-shaped one my kid had shamelessly stolen from his grandma. Rest in peace, little bear pillow. You survived a Mexican grandmother’s house only to perish somewhere in the English Channel.

The Candy Store

And then, there I was. At FOSDEM. With my kid. In Brussels.

The place was electric. People from every imaginable background wandered through the halls of the Université libre de Bruxelles. I’ll be honest—there’s still a noticeable lack of diversity, especially in gender representation—but the energy was undeniable. It felt like a living, breathing monument to what open source can be.

Seeing the project booths was like being a kid in a candy store—except I literally had a kid with me in this candy store. Mozilla, Thunderbird, Let’s Encrypt, SUSE, and of course Mastodon, to name a few. I couldn’t help myself; I told my son that when I was young, one of my first dreams was to work for SUSE. He listened carefully, the way seven-year-olds do when they’re filing away information for later use (probably to embarrass me at dinner).

Keeping a seven-year-old entertained at a developer conference is its own extreme sport. Thankfully, a friend I hadn’t seen in over a decade was there—with his kid. He’s a no-gringo, a Dutchman who happens to have worked at Innox in Mexico. Our kids hit it off, and suddenly the conference had a parallel track: unsupervised children’s chaos edition.

The Talk

When the time came for my talk, I walked in, set up, and delivered something far from perfect—but unmistakably mine. I stumbled on a couple of words, my accent was thick, and I’m sure I made at least one joke that only landed for me. But that’s the style. That’s always been the style.

Just before stepping up, Elena handed me the most fabulous FOSDEM sweater in existence. People noticed. People asked where to get one. But no—only I could have it. Exclusive distribution, zero units available. (Okay fine, I was just lucky, but let me have this moment.)

If I have one regret, it’s not spending more time in other talks. It’s not that I didn’t try—I did—but balancing a seven-year-old’s attention span with a conference schedule is a negotiation no diplomacy course prepares you for. I caught fragments, glimpses, enough to know I was missing incredible stuff. But that’s the thing about FOSDEM: it’s not a one-time event. I’ll be back. And next time, I want to do more than speak—I want to listen, linger, and actually have those hallway conversations that everyone says are the best part of any conference.

The Kid and the Dream

Here’s what got me, though. The part I didn’t expect.

My kid watched me speak at FOSDEM. He didn’t fully understand the content—he’s seven, and ActivityPub isn’t exactly bedtime story material—but he saw his dad on a stage, in front of a room full of people, in another continent, talking about something he built. When the Q&A started, he wanted to raise his hand. He got shy, though, and didn’t. Later, visibly upset about his missed opportunity, he told me what he wanted to ask: “Do you play Minecraft?” In front of an auditorium full of open-source developers discussing federation protocols, my kid’s burning question was about Minecraft. I love this human being more than I can express.

He asked questions the entire trip back: “What does SUSE do?” “Will you talk at another one?” “Can I have my own desk computer?”

He saw the booths, the projects, the people. He kept posing for photos with each open-source mascot like a tiny celebrity on a press tour. His favorite was the PostgreSQL elephant, though we were genuinely concerned about its health. Based on the state of that costume, I think he might be right—PostgreSQL could use your donations, folks. That elephant has seen better days.

And the trip back was no less insane than the trip there. Brussels → Iceland → Seattle. Because apparently, when you’re already doing something absurd, you might as well add a layover near the Arctic Circle. We landed in Reykjavík with our beach-and-winter Frankenstein luggage, stepped outside into wind that felt personally offended by our existence, and my kid asked if the land was actually made of ice. Close enough, kid. Close enough.

A week later, during a conversation with his teacher, my son was asked about the most memorable thing from the trip. He didn’t say the beach in Mexico, or the train through Europe, or the wind in Iceland, or even the lost bear pillow. He said the most memorable thing was seeing his dad talk at a university. That it made him proud (I’m not going to pretend I didn’t need a moment after hearing that).

I thought about my own childhood. About the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his town. About the dusty streets and half-built houses. About how representation works in mysterious ways—how seeing someone like you doing something impossible makes it feel possible. My son doesn’t know what it’s like to not see a path. For him, this is just what dad does. And maybe that’s the whole point.

Full Circle

Twenty years ago, I was a teenager in a small Mexican town, writing code in paper notebooks and dreaming of a world I could barely imagine. Today, I stood in Brussels and spoke to a room full of open-source developers about a project I created.

The path from there to here wasn’t straight. It was messy, full of detours, broken English, lost pillows, and more coffee than any doctor would recommend. But every step—every hackerspace meetup with eight people, every local conference talk, every late night wrestling with code—was a brick in the road that led to that stage.

And yeah, I get it, talking for half an hour at a conference with hundreds of talks may seem like a small feat. One slot among many. But it wasn’t small to me. For the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his hometown, standing in front of that room was enormous.

FOSDEM wasn’t just a conference for me. It was proof that the kid from Tepic who dreamed of finding hackers in real life finally did. They were in Brussels all along, waiting for him to show up.

And he brought his kid.

Also readable in: https://maho.dev/2026/02/fosdem-2026-the-kid-who-dreamed-of-hackers-found-them-in-brussels/ by @mapache:

#fosdem #open-source #conferences #community #travel #personal-growth #europe #public-speaking

FOSDEM 2026: The Kid Who Dreamed of Hackers Found Them in Brussels

Summary: A kid from a small Mexican town dreamed of finding real-life hackers. Two decades later, he flew his family to Brussels and spoke at one of the world’s largest open-source conferences. This is that story.

“We reject: kings, presidents and voting. We believe in: rough consensus and running code.” – David D. Clark

The Dream

When I was a young hacker—yeah, believe it or not—my dream was to find other hackers in real life and just hang out together. That’s it. That was the whole dream.

It sounds modest now, but you have to understand the context. I come from a very small town in Mexico, the kind of place where internet was a luxury, Linux was a word nobody recognized, and “Windows” was mostly what you opened to let the heat out. The idea of attending a tech conference was absurd. Attending one in English? In another country? That was pure science fiction—like telling my block friends about Dragon Ball Z spoilers I’d read online, except even less believable.

But with time, and a painfully slow DSL connection, I found my people. I stumbled into the local Linux user group—fewer than ten of us in a city of thousands—and we built something from nothing. A hackerspace. Community events. Workshops with maybe a dozen attendees if we were lucky. Eventually, I found my way to national conferences and even talked at a few of them. Each one felt like a small victory, a tiny crack in the wall between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The Shot

So when the opportunity to submit a talk to FOSDEM 2026 appeared, I just shot my shot.

I did it almost by instinct, without overthinking it. FOSDEM—the Free and Open Source Software Developers’ European Meeting—is one of the largest open-source conferences in the world. Thousands of developers, hundreds of talks, legendary project booths. It had always been a place that existed on the other side of a dream for me. But here’s the thing: I’m more financially stable now, I’ve traveled to Europe for both leisure and work, and I speak comfortable (but still heavily accented) English. I’ve made peace with my accent—it’s part of the package, take it or leave it.

So, why not? The real surprise was that I hadn’t applied before.

The Logistics of Madness

When my proposed talk was accepted, my first reaction wasn’t joy—it was panic. The kind of panic you feel when you push to main and then read the diff. The real problem was logistics.

I already had a trip to Mexico planned for personal reasons. Going to FOSDEM meant extending the family travel by a week, rerouting flights, and solving the kind of logistical puzzle that makes your brain hurt. Tepic, a small city in the mountains of western Mexico → Mexico City → London → Brussels. With a seven-year-old. And a month’s worth of luggage packed for both the scorching Mexican beach and a freezing European winter—flip-flops sharing suitcase space with thermal jackets, sunscreen next to wool scarves. And sanity (debatable).

After my wife—bless her patience—said “just go for it,” and after numerous conversations with both AI and non-AI advisors about how to make it less stressful, we committed. At the end of January, I found myself at the tiny airport of Tepic, eating the most amazing torta de pierna, beginning an absurd journey to Belgium.

We crossed through London, hopped on the Eurostar to Brussels, and somewhere between countries, we lost a pillow—a bear-shaped one my kid had shamelessly stolen from his grandma. Rest in peace, little bear pillow. You survived a Mexican grandmother’s house only to perish somewhere in the English Channel.

The Candy Store

And then, there I was. At FOSDEM. With my kid. In Brussels.

The place was electric. People from every imaginable background wandered through the halls of the Université libre de Bruxelles. I’ll be honest—there’s still a noticeable lack of diversity, especially in gender representation—but the energy was undeniable. It felt like a living, breathing monument to what open source can be.

Seeing the project booths was like being a kid in a candy store—except I literally had a kid with me in this candy store. Mozilla, Thunderbird, Let’s Encrypt, SUSE, and of course Mastodon, to name a few. I couldn’t help myself; I told my son that when I was young, one of my first dreams was to work for SUSE. He listened carefully, the way seven-year-olds do when they’re filing away information for later use (probably to embarrass me at dinner).

Keeping a seven-year-old entertained at a developer conference is its own extreme sport. Thankfully, a friend I hadn’t seen in over a decade was there—with his kid. He’s a no-gringo, a Dutchman who happens to have worked at Innox in Mexico. Our kids hit it off, and suddenly the conference had a parallel track: unsupervised children’s chaos edition.

The Talk

When the time came for my talk, I walked in, set up, and delivered something far from perfect—but unmistakably mine. I stumbled on a couple of words, my accent was thick, and I’m sure I made at least one joke that only landed for me. But that’s the style. That’s always been the style.

Just before stepping up, Elena handed me the most fabulous FOSDEM sweater in existence. People noticed. People asked where to get one. But no—only I could have it. Exclusive distribution, zero units available. (Okay fine, I was just lucky, but let me have this moment.)

If I have one regret, it’s not spending more time in other talks. It’s not that I didn’t try—I did—but balancing a seven-year-old’s attention span with a conference schedule is a negotiation no diplomacy course prepares you for. I caught fragments, glimpses, enough to know I was missing incredible stuff. But that’s the thing about FOSDEM: it’s not a one-time event. I’ll be back. And next time, I want to do more than speak—I want to listen, linger, and actually have those hallway conversations that everyone says are the best part of any conference.

The Kid and the Dream

Here’s what got me, though. The part I didn’t expect.

My kid watched me speak at FOSDEM. He didn’t fully understand the content—he’s seven, and ActivityPub isn’t exactly bedtime story material—but he saw his dad on a stage, in front of a room full of people, in another continent, talking about something he built. When the Q&A started, he wanted to raise his hand. He got shy, though, and didn’t. Later, visibly upset about his missed opportunity, he told me what he wanted to ask: “Do you play Minecraft?” In front of an auditorium full of open-source developers discussing federation protocols, my kid’s burning question was about Minecraft. I love this human being more than I can express.

He asked questions the entire trip back: “What does SUSE do?” “Will you talk at another one?” “Can I have my own desk computer?”

He saw the booths, the projects, the people. He kept posing for photos with each open-source mascot like a tiny celebrity on a press tour. His favorite was the PostgreSQL elephant, though we were genuinely concerned about its health. Based on the state of that costume, I think he might be right—PostgreSQL could use your donations, folks. That elephant has seen better days.

And the trip back was no less insane than the trip there. Brussels → Iceland → Seattle. Because apparently, when you’re already doing something absurd, you might as well add a layover near the Arctic Circle. We landed in Reykjavík with our beach-and-winter Frankenstein luggage, stepped outside into wind that felt personally offended by our existence, and my kid asked if the land was actually made of ice. Close enough, kid. Close enough.

A week later, during a conversation with his teacher, my son was asked about the most memorable thing from the trip. He didn’t say the beach in Mexico, or the train through Europe, or the wind in Iceland, or even the lost bear pillow. He said the most memorable thing was seeing his dad talk at a university. That it made him proud (I’m not going to pretend I didn’t need a moment after hearing that).

I thought about my own childhood. About the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his town. About the dusty streets and half-built houses. About how representation works in mysterious ways—how seeing someone like you doing something impossible makes it feel possible. My son doesn’t know what it’s like to not see a path. For him, this is just what dad does. And maybe that’s the whole point.

Full Circle

Twenty years ago, I was a teenager in a small Mexican town, writing code in paper notebooks and dreaming of a world I could barely imagine. Today, I stood in Brussels and spoke to a room full of open-source developers about a project I created.

The path from there to here wasn’t straight. It was messy, full of detours, broken English, lost pillows, and more coffee than any doctor would recommend. But every step—every hackerspace meetup with eight people, every local conference talk, every late night wrestling with code—was a brick in the road that led to that stage.

And yeah, I get it, talking for half an hour at a conference with hundreds of talks may seem like a small feat. One slot among many. But it wasn’t small to me. For the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his hometown, standing in front of that room was enormous.

FOSDEM wasn’t just a conference for me. It was proof that the kid from Tepic who dreamed of finding hackers in real life finally did. They were in Brussels all along, waiting for him to show up.

And he brought his kid.

Also readable in: https://maho.dev/2026/02/fosdem-2026-the-kid-who-dreamed-of-hackers-found-them-in-brussels/ by @mapache:

#fosdem #open-source #conferences #community #travel #personal-growth #europe #public-speaking

FOSDEM 2026: The Kid Who Dreamed of Hackers Found Them in Brussels

Summary: A kid from a small Mexican town dreamed of finding real-life hackers. Two decades later, he flew his family to Brussels and spoke at one of the world’s largest open-source conferences. This is that story.

“We reject: kings, presidents and voting. We believe in: rough consensus and running code.” – David D. Clark

The Dream

When I was a young hacker—yeah, believe it or not—my dream was to find other hackers in real life and just hang out together. That’s it. That was the whole dream.

It sounds modest now, but you have to understand the context. I come from a very small town in Mexico, the kind of place where internet was a luxury, Linux was a word nobody recognized, and “Windows” was mostly what you opened to let the heat out. The idea of attending a tech conference was absurd. Attending one in English? In another country? That was pure science fiction—like telling my block friends about Dragon Ball Z spoilers I’d read online, except even less believable.

But with time, and a painfully slow DSL connection, I found my people. I stumbled into the local Linux user group—fewer than ten of us in a city of thousands—and we built something from nothing. A hackerspace. Community events. Workshops with maybe a dozen attendees if we were lucky. Eventually, I found my way to national conferences and even talked at a few of them. Each one felt like a small victory, a tiny crack in the wall between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The Shot

So when the opportunity to submit a talk to FOSDEM 2026 appeared, I just shot my shot.

I did it almost by instinct, without overthinking it. FOSDEM—the Free and Open Source Software Developers’ European Meeting—is one of the largest open-source conferences in the world. Thousands of developers, hundreds of talks, legendary project booths. It had always been a place that existed on the other side of a dream for me. But here’s the thing: I’m more financially stable now, I’ve traveled to Europe for both leisure and work, and I speak comfortable (but still heavily accented) English. I’ve made peace with my accent—it’s part of the package, take it or leave it.

So, why not? The real surprise was that I hadn’t applied before.

The Logistics of Madness

When my proposed talk was accepted, my first reaction wasn’t joy—it was panic. The kind of panic you feel when you push to main and then read the diff. The real problem was logistics.

I already had a trip to Mexico planned for personal reasons. Going to FOSDEM meant extending the family travel by a week, rerouting flights, and solving the kind of logistical puzzle that makes your brain hurt. Tepic, a small city in the mountains of western Mexico → Mexico City → London → Brussels. With a seven-year-old. And a month’s worth of luggage packed for both the scorching Mexican beach and a freezing European winter—flip-flops sharing suitcase space with thermal jackets, sunscreen next to wool scarves. And sanity (debatable).

After my wife—bless her patience—said “just go for it,” and after numerous conversations with both AI and non-AI advisors about how to make it less stressful, we committed. At the end of January, I found myself at the tiny airport of Tepic, eating the most amazing torta de pierna, beginning an absurd journey to Belgium.

We crossed through London, hopped on the Eurostar to Brussels, and somewhere between countries, we lost a pillow—a bear-shaped one my kid had shamelessly stolen from his grandma. Rest in peace, little bear pillow. You survived a Mexican grandmother’s house only to perish somewhere in the English Channel.

The Candy Store

And then, there I was. At FOSDEM. With my kid. In Brussels.

The place was electric. People from every imaginable background wandered through the halls of the Université libre de Bruxelles. I’ll be honest—there’s still a noticeable lack of diversity, especially in gender representation—but the energy was undeniable. It felt like a living, breathing monument to what open source can be.

Seeing the project booths was like being a kid in a candy store—except I literally had a kid with me in this candy store. Mozilla, Thunderbird, Let’s Encrypt, SUSE, and of course Mastodon, to name a few. I couldn’t help myself; I told my son that when I was young, one of my first dreams was to work for SUSE. He listened carefully, the way seven-year-olds do when they’re filing away information for later use (probably to embarrass me at dinner).

Keeping a seven-year-old entertained at a developer conference is its own extreme sport. Thankfully, a friend I hadn’t seen in over a decade was there—with his kid. He’s a no-gringo, a Dutchman who happens to have worked at Innox in Mexico. Our kids hit it off, and suddenly the conference had a parallel track: unsupervised children’s chaos edition.

The Talk

When the time came for my talk, I walked in, set up, and delivered something far from perfect—but unmistakably mine. I stumbled on a couple of words, my accent was thick, and I’m sure I made at least one joke that only landed for me. But that’s the style. That’s always been the style.

Just before stepping up, Elena handed me the most fabulous FOSDEM sweater in existence. People noticed. People asked where to get one. But no—only I could have it. Exclusive distribution, zero units available. (Okay fine, I was just lucky, but let me have this moment.)

If I have one regret, it’s not spending more time in other talks. It’s not that I didn’t try—I did—but balancing a seven-year-old’s attention span with a conference schedule is a negotiation no diplomacy course prepares you for. I caught fragments, glimpses, enough to know I was missing incredible stuff. But that’s the thing about FOSDEM: it’s not a one-time event. I’ll be back. And next time, I want to do more than speak—I want to listen, linger, and actually have those hallway conversations that everyone says are the best part of any conference.

The Kid and the Dream

Here’s what got me, though. The part I didn’t expect.

My kid watched me speak at FOSDEM. He didn’t fully understand the content—he’s seven, and ActivityPub isn’t exactly bedtime story material—but he saw his dad on a stage, in front of a room full of people, in another continent, talking about something he built. When the Q&A started, he wanted to raise his hand. He got shy, though, and didn’t. Later, visibly upset about his missed opportunity, he told me what he wanted to ask: “Do you play Minecraft?” In front of an auditorium full of open-source developers discussing federation protocols, my kid’s burning question was about Minecraft. I love this human being more than I can express.

He asked questions the entire trip back: “What does SUSE do?” “Will you talk at another one?” “Can I have my own desk computer?”

He saw the booths, the projects, the people. He kept posing for photos with each open-source mascot like a tiny celebrity on a press tour. His favorite was the PostgreSQL elephant, though we were genuinely concerned about its health. Based on the state of that costume, I think he might be right—PostgreSQL could use your donations, folks. That elephant has seen better days.

And the trip back was no less insane than the trip there. Brussels → Iceland → Seattle. Because apparently, when you’re already doing something absurd, you might as well add a layover near the Arctic Circle. We landed in Reykjavík with our beach-and-winter Frankenstein luggage, stepped outside into wind that felt personally offended by our existence, and my kid asked if the land was actually made of ice. Close enough, kid. Close enough.

A week later, during a conversation with his teacher, my son was asked about the most memorable thing from the trip. He didn’t say the beach in Mexico, or the train through Europe, or the wind in Iceland, or even the lost bear pillow. He said the most memorable thing was seeing his dad talk at a university. That it made him proud (I’m not going to pretend I didn’t need a moment after hearing that).

I thought about my own childhood. About the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his town. About the dusty streets and half-built houses. About how representation works in mysterious ways—how seeing someone like you doing something impossible makes it feel possible. My son doesn’t know what it’s like to not see a path. For him, this is just what dad does. And maybe that’s the whole point.

Full Circle

Twenty years ago, I was a teenager in a small Mexican town, writing code in paper notebooks and dreaming of a world I could barely imagine. Today, I stood in Brussels and spoke to a room full of open-source developers about a project I created.

The path from there to here wasn’t straight. It was messy, full of detours, broken English, lost pillows, and more coffee than any doctor would recommend. But every step—every hackerspace meetup with eight people, every local conference talk, every late night wrestling with code—was a brick in the road that led to that stage.

And yeah, I get it, talking for half an hour at a conference with hundreds of talks may seem like a small feat. One slot among many. But it wasn’t small to me. For the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his hometown, standing in front of that room was enormous.

FOSDEM wasn’t just a conference for me. It was proof that the kid from Tepic who dreamed of finding hackers in real life finally did. They were in Brussels all along, waiting for him to show up.

And he brought his kid.

Also readable in: https://maho.dev/2026/02/fosdem-2026-the-kid-who-dreamed-of-hackers-found-them-in-brussels/ by @mapache:

#fosdem #open-source #conferences #community #travel #personal-growth #europe #public-speaking

FOSDEM 2026: The Kid Who Dreamed of Hackers Found Them in Brussels

Summary: A kid from a small Mexican town dreamed of finding real-life hackers. Two decades later, he flew his family to Brussels and spoke at one of the world’s largest open-source conferences. This is that story.

“We reject: kings, presidents and voting. We believe in: rough consensus and running code.” – David D. Clark

The Dream

When I was a young hacker—yeah, believe it or not—my dream was to find other hackers in real life and just hang out together. That’s it. That was the whole dream.

It sounds modest now, but you have to understand the context. I come from a very small town in Mexico, the kind of place where internet was a luxury, Linux was a word nobody recognized, and “Windows” was mostly what you opened to let the heat out. The idea of attending a tech conference was absurd. Attending one in English? In another country? That was pure science fiction—like telling my block friends about Dragon Ball Z spoilers I’d read online, except even less believable.

But with time, and a painfully slow DSL connection, I found my people. I stumbled into the local Linux user group—fewer than ten of us in a city of thousands—and we built something from nothing. A hackerspace. Community events. Workshops with maybe a dozen attendees if we were lucky. Eventually, I found my way to national conferences and even talked at a few of them. Each one felt like a small victory, a tiny crack in the wall between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The Shot

So when the opportunity to submit a talk to FOSDEM 2026 appeared, I just shot my shot.

I did it almost by instinct, without overthinking it. FOSDEM—the Free and Open Source Software Developers’ European Meeting—is one of the largest open-source conferences in the world. Thousands of developers, hundreds of talks, legendary project booths. It had always been a place that existed on the other side of a dream for me. But here’s the thing: I’m more financially stable now, I’ve traveled to Europe for both leisure and work, and I speak comfortable (but still heavily accented) English. I’ve made peace with my accent—it’s part of the package, take it or leave it.

So, why not? The real surprise was that I hadn’t applied before.

The Logistics of Madness

When my proposed talk was accepted, my first reaction wasn’t joy—it was panic. The kind of panic you feel when you push to main and then read the diff. The real problem was logistics.

I already had a trip to Mexico planned for personal reasons. Going to FOSDEM meant extending the family travel by a week, rerouting flights, and solving the kind of logistical puzzle that makes your brain hurt. Tepic, a small city in the mountains of western Mexico → Mexico City → London → Brussels. With a seven-year-old. And a month’s worth of luggage packed for both the scorching Mexican beach and a freezing European winter—flip-flops sharing suitcase space with thermal jackets, sunscreen next to wool scarves. And sanity (debatable).

After my wife—bless her patience—said “just go for it,” and after numerous conversations with both AI and non-AI advisors about how to make it less stressful, we committed. At the end of January, I found myself at the tiny airport of Tepic, eating the most amazing torta de pierna, beginning an absurd journey to Belgium.

We crossed through London, hopped on the Eurostar to Brussels, and somewhere between countries, we lost a pillow—a bear-shaped one my kid had shamelessly stolen from his grandma. Rest in peace, little bear pillow. You survived a Mexican grandmother’s house only to perish somewhere in the English Channel.

The Candy Store

And then, there I was. At FOSDEM. With my kid. In Brussels.

The place was electric. People from every imaginable background wandered through the halls of the Université libre de Bruxelles. I’ll be honest—there’s still a noticeable lack of diversity, especially in gender representation—but the energy was undeniable. It felt like a living, breathing monument to what open source can be.

Seeing the project booths was like being a kid in a candy store—except I literally had a kid with me in this candy store. Mozilla, Thunderbird, Let’s Encrypt, SUSE, and of course Mastodon, to name a few. I couldn’t help myself; I told my son that when I was young, one of my first dreams was to work for SUSE. He listened carefully, the way seven-year-olds do when they’re filing away information for later use (probably to embarrass me at dinner).

Keeping a seven-year-old entertained at a developer conference is its own extreme sport. Thankfully, a friend I hadn’t seen in over a decade was there—with his kid. He’s a no-gringo, a Dutchman who happens to have worked at Innox in Mexico. Our kids hit it off, and suddenly the conference had a parallel track: unsupervised children’s chaos edition.

The Talk

When the time came for my talk, I walked in, set up, and delivered something far from perfect—but unmistakably mine. I stumbled on a couple of words, my accent was thick, and I’m sure I made at least one joke that only landed for me. But that’s the style. That’s always been the style.

Just before stepping up, Elena handed me the most fabulous FOSDEM sweater in existence. People noticed. People asked where to get one. But no—only I could have it. Exclusive distribution, zero units available. (Okay fine, I was just lucky, but let me have this moment.)

If I have one regret, it’s not spending more time in other talks. It’s not that I didn’t try—I did—but balancing a seven-year-old’s attention span with a conference schedule is a negotiation no diplomacy course prepares you for. I caught fragments, glimpses, enough to know I was missing incredible stuff. But that’s the thing about FOSDEM: it’s not a one-time event. I’ll be back. And next time, I want to do more than speak—I want to listen, linger, and actually have those hallway conversations that everyone says are the best part of any conference.

The Kid and the Dream

Here’s what got me, though. The part I didn’t expect.

My kid watched me speak at FOSDEM. He didn’t fully understand the content—he’s seven, and ActivityPub isn’t exactly bedtime story material—but he saw his dad on a stage, in front of a room full of people, in another continent, talking about something he built. When the Q&A started, he wanted to raise his hand. He got shy, though, and didn’t. Later, visibly upset about his missed opportunity, he told me what he wanted to ask: “Do you play Minecraft?” In front of an auditorium full of open-source developers discussing federation protocols, my kid’s burning question was about Minecraft. I love this human being more than I can express.

He asked questions the entire trip back: “What does SUSE do?” “Will you talk at another one?” “Can I have my own desk computer?”

He saw the booths, the projects, the people. He kept posing for photos with each open-source mascot like a tiny celebrity on a press tour. His favorite was the PostgreSQL elephant, though we were genuinely concerned about its health. Based on the state of that costume, I think he might be right—PostgreSQL could use your donations, folks. That elephant has seen better days.

And the trip back was no less insane than the trip there. Brussels → Iceland → Seattle. Because apparently, when you’re already doing something absurd, you might as well add a layover near the Arctic Circle. We landed in Reykjavík with our beach-and-winter Frankenstein luggage, stepped outside into wind that felt personally offended by our existence, and my kid asked if the land was actually made of ice. Close enough, kid. Close enough.

A week later, during a conversation with his teacher, my son was asked about the most memorable thing from the trip. He didn’t say the beach in Mexico, or the train through Europe, or the wind in Iceland, or even the lost bear pillow. He said the most memorable thing was seeing his dad talk at a university. That it made him proud (I’m not going to pretend I didn’t need a moment after hearing that).

I thought about my own childhood. About the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his town. About the dusty streets and half-built houses. About how representation works in mysterious ways—how seeing someone like you doing something impossible makes it feel possible. My son doesn’t know what it’s like to not see a path. For him, this is just what dad does. And maybe that’s the whole point.

Full Circle

Twenty years ago, I was a teenager in a small Mexican town, writing code in paper notebooks and dreaming of a world I could barely imagine. Today, I stood in Brussels and spoke to a room full of open-source developers about a project I created.

The path from there to here wasn’t straight. It was messy, full of detours, broken English, lost pillows, and more coffee than any doctor would recommend. But every step—every hackerspace meetup with eight people, every local conference talk, every late night wrestling with code—was a brick in the road that led to that stage.

And yeah, I get it, talking for half an hour at a conference with hundreds of talks may seem like a small feat. One slot among many. But it wasn’t small to me. For the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his hometown, standing in front of that room was enormous.

FOSDEM wasn’t just a conference for me. It was proof that the kid from Tepic who dreamed of finding hackers in real life finally did. They were in Brussels all along, waiting for him to show up.

And he brought his kid.

Also readable in: https://maho.dev/2026/02/fosdem-2026-the-kid-who-dreamed-of-hackers-found-them-in-brussels/ by @mapache:

#fosdem #open-source #conferences #community #travel #personal-growth #europe #public-speaking

FOSDEM 2026: The Kid Who Dreamed of Hackers Found Them in Brussels

Summary: A kid from a small Mexican town dreamed of finding real-life hackers. Two decades later, he flew his family to Brussels and spoke at one of the world’s largest open-source conferences. This is that story.

“We reject: kings, presidents and voting. We believe in: rough consensus and running code.” – David D. Clark

The Dream

When I was a young hacker—yeah, believe it or not—my dream was to find other hackers in real life and just hang out together. That’s it. That was the whole dream.

It sounds modest now, but you have to understand the context. I come from a very small town in Mexico, the kind of place where internet was a luxury, Linux was a word nobody recognized, and “Windows” was mostly what you opened to let the heat out. The idea of attending a tech conference was absurd. Attending one in English? In another country? That was pure science fiction—like telling my block friends about Dragon Ball Z spoilers I’d read online, except even less believable.

But with time, and a painfully slow DSL connection, I found my people. I stumbled into the local Linux user group—fewer than ten of us in a city of thousands—and we built something from nothing. A hackerspace. Community events. Workshops with maybe a dozen attendees if we were lucky. Eventually, I found my way to national conferences and even talked at a few of them. Each one felt like a small victory, a tiny crack in the wall between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The Shot

So when the opportunity to submit a talk to FOSDEM 2026 appeared, I just shot my shot.

I did it almost by instinct, without overthinking it. FOSDEM—the Free and Open Source Software Developers’ European Meeting—is one of the largest open-source conferences in the world. Thousands of developers, hundreds of talks, legendary project booths. It had always been a place that existed on the other side of a dream for me. But here’s the thing: I’m more financially stable now, I’ve traveled to Europe for both leisure and work, and I speak comfortable (but still heavily accented) English. I’ve made peace with my accent—it’s part of the package, take it or leave it.

So, why not? The real surprise was that I hadn’t applied before.

The Logistics of Madness

When my proposed talk was accepted, my first reaction wasn’t joy—it was panic. The kind of panic you feel when you push to main and then read the diff. The real problem was logistics.

I already had a trip to Mexico planned for personal reasons. Going to FOSDEM meant extending the family travel by a week, rerouting flights, and solving the kind of logistical puzzle that makes your brain hurt. Tepic, a small city in the mountains of western Mexico → Mexico City → London → Brussels. With a seven-year-old. And a month’s worth of luggage packed for both the scorching Mexican beach and a freezing European winter—flip-flops sharing suitcase space with thermal jackets, sunscreen next to wool scarves. And sanity (debatable).

After my wife—bless her patience—said “just go for it,” and after numerous conversations with both AI and non-AI advisors about how to make it less stressful, we committed. At the end of January, I found myself at the tiny airport of Tepic, eating the most amazing torta de pierna, beginning an absurd journey to Belgium.

We crossed through London, hopped on the Eurostar to Brussels, and somewhere between countries, we lost a pillow—a bear-shaped one my kid had shamelessly stolen from his grandma. Rest in peace, little bear pillow. You survived a Mexican grandmother’s house only to perish somewhere in the English Channel.

The Candy Store

And then, there I was. At FOSDEM. With my kid. In Brussels.

The place was electric. People from every imaginable background wandered through the halls of the Université libre de Bruxelles. I’ll be honest—there’s still a noticeable lack of diversity, especially in gender representation—but the energy was undeniable. It felt like a living, breathing monument to what open source can be.

Seeing the project booths was like being a kid in a candy store—except I literally had a kid with me in this candy store. Mozilla, Thunderbird, Let’s Encrypt, SUSE, and of course Mastodon, to name a few. I couldn’t help myself; I told my son that when I was young, one of my first dreams was to work for SUSE. He listened carefully, the way seven-year-olds do when they’re filing away information for later use (probably to embarrass me at dinner).

Keeping a seven-year-old entertained at a developer conference is its own extreme sport. Thankfully, a friend I hadn’t seen in over a decade was there—with his kid. He’s a no-gringo, a Dutchman who happens to have worked at Innox in Mexico. Our kids hit it off, and suddenly the conference had a parallel track: unsupervised children’s chaos edition.

The Talk

When the time came for my talk, I walked in, set up, and delivered something far from perfect—but unmistakably mine. I stumbled on a couple of words, my accent was thick, and I’m sure I made at least one joke that only landed for me. But that’s the style. That’s always been the style.

Just before stepping up, Elena handed me the most fabulous FOSDEM sweater in existence. People noticed. People asked where to get one. But no—only I could have it. Exclusive distribution, zero units available. (Okay fine, I was just lucky, but let me have this moment.)

If I have one regret, it’s not spending more time in other talks. It’s not that I didn’t try—I did—but balancing a seven-year-old’s attention span with a conference schedule is a negotiation no diplomacy course prepares you for. I caught fragments, glimpses, enough to know I was missing incredible stuff. But that’s the thing about FOSDEM: it’s not a one-time event. I’ll be back. And next time, I want to do more than speak—I want to listen, linger, and actually have those hallway conversations that everyone says are the best part of any conference.

The Kid and the Dream

Here’s what got me, though. The part I didn’t expect.

My kid watched me speak at FOSDEM. He didn’t fully understand the content—he’s seven, and ActivityPub isn’t exactly bedtime story material—but he saw his dad on a stage, in front of a room full of people, in another continent, talking about something he built. When the Q&A started, he wanted to raise his hand. He got shy, though, and didn’t. Later, visibly upset about his missed opportunity, he told me what he wanted to ask: “Do you play Minecraft?” In front of an auditorium full of open-source developers discussing federation protocols, my kid’s burning question was about Minecraft. I love this human being more than I can express.

He asked questions the entire trip back: “What does SUSE do?” “Will you talk at another one?” “Can I have my own desk computer?”

He saw the booths, the projects, the people. He kept posing for photos with each open-source mascot like a tiny celebrity on a press tour. His favorite was the PostgreSQL elephant, though we were genuinely concerned about its health. Based on the state of that costume, I think he might be right—PostgreSQL could use your donations, folks. That elephant has seen better days.

And the trip back was no less insane than the trip there. Brussels → Iceland → Seattle. Because apparently, when you’re already doing something absurd, you might as well add a layover near the Arctic Circle. We landed in Reykjavík with our beach-and-winter Frankenstein luggage, stepped outside into wind that felt personally offended by our existence, and my kid asked if the land was actually made of ice. Close enough, kid. Close enough.

A week later, during a conversation with his teacher, my son was asked about the most memorable thing from the trip. He didn’t say the beach in Mexico, or the train through Europe, or the wind in Iceland, or even the lost bear pillow. He said the most memorable thing was seeing his dad talk at a university. That it made him proud (I’m not going to pretend I didn’t need a moment after hearing that).

I thought about my own childhood. About the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his town. About the dusty streets and half-built houses. About how representation works in mysterious ways—how seeing someone like you doing something impossible makes it feel possible. My son doesn’t know what it’s like to not see a path. For him, this is just what dad does. And maybe that’s the whole point.

Full Circle

Twenty years ago, I was a teenager in a small Mexican town, writing code in paper notebooks and dreaming of a world I could barely imagine. Today, I stood in Brussels and spoke to a room full of open-source developers about a project I created.

The path from there to here wasn’t straight. It was messy, full of detours, broken English, lost pillows, and more coffee than any doctor would recommend. But every step—every hackerspace meetup with eight people, every local conference talk, every late night wrestling with code—was a brick in the road that led to that stage.

And yeah, I get it, talking for half an hour at a conference with hundreds of talks may seem like a small feat. One slot among many. But it wasn’t small to me. For the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his hometown, standing in front of that room was enormous.

FOSDEM wasn’t just a conference for me. It was proof that the kid from Tepic who dreamed of finding hackers in real life finally did. They were in Brussels all along, waiting for him to show up.

And he brought his kid.

Also readable in: https://maho.dev/2026/02/fosdem-2026-the-kid-who-dreamed-of-hackers-found-them-in-brussels/ by @mapache:

#fosdem #open-source #conferences #community #travel #personal-growth #europe #public-speaking

FOSDEM 2026: The Kid Who Dreamed of Hackers Found Them in Brussels

Summary: A kid from a small Mexican town dreamed of finding real-life hackers. Two decades later, he flew his family to Brussels and spoke at one of the world’s largest open-source conferences. This is that story.

“We reject: kings, presidents and voting. We believe in: rough consensus and running code.” – David D. Clark

The Dream

When I was a young hacker—yeah, believe it or not—my dream was to find other hackers in real life and just hang out together. That’s it. That was the whole dream.

It sounds modest now, but you have to understand the context. I come from a very small town in Mexico, the kind of place where internet was a luxury, Linux was a word nobody recognized, and “Windows” was mostly what you opened to let the heat out. The idea of attending a tech conference was absurd. Attending one in English? In another country? That was pure science fiction—like telling my block friends about Dragon Ball Z spoilers I’d read online, except even less believable.

But with time, and a painfully slow DSL connection, I found my people. I stumbled into the local Linux user group—fewer than ten of us in a city of thousands—and we built something from nothing. A hackerspace. Community events. Workshops with maybe a dozen attendees if we were lucky. Eventually, I found my way to national conferences and even talked at a few of them. Each one felt like a small victory, a tiny crack in the wall between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The Shot

So when the opportunity to submit a talk to FOSDEM 2026 appeared, I just shot my shot.

I did it almost by instinct, without overthinking it. FOSDEM—the Free and Open Source Software Developers’ European Meeting—is one of the largest open-source conferences in the world. Thousands of developers, hundreds of talks, legendary project booths. It had always been a place that existed on the other side of a dream for me. But here’s the thing: I’m more financially stable now, I’ve traveled to Europe for both leisure and work, and I speak comfortable (but still heavily accented) English. I’ve made peace with my accent—it’s part of the package, take it or leave it.

So, why not? The real surprise was that I hadn’t applied before.

The Logistics of Madness

When my proposed talk was accepted, my first reaction wasn’t joy—it was panic. The kind of panic you feel when you push to main and then read the diff. The real problem was logistics.

I already had a trip to Mexico planned for personal reasons. Going to FOSDEM meant extending the family travel by a week, rerouting flights, and solving the kind of logistical puzzle that makes your brain hurt. Tepic, a small city in the mountains of western Mexico → Mexico City → London → Brussels. With a seven-year-old. And a month’s worth of luggage packed for both the scorching Mexican beach and a freezing European winter—flip-flops sharing suitcase space with thermal jackets, sunscreen next to wool scarves. And sanity (debatable).

After my wife—bless her patience—said “just go for it,” and after numerous conversations with both AI and non-AI advisors about how to make it less stressful, we committed. At the end of January, I found myself at the tiny airport of Tepic, eating the most amazing torta de pierna, beginning an absurd journey to Belgium.

We crossed through London, hopped on the Eurostar to Brussels, and somewhere between countries, we lost a pillow—a bear-shaped one my kid had shamelessly stolen from his grandma. Rest in peace, little bear pillow. You survived a Mexican grandmother’s house only to perish somewhere in the English Channel.

The Candy Store

And then, there I was. At FOSDEM. With my kid. In Brussels.

The place was electric. People from every imaginable background wandered through the halls of the Université libre de Bruxelles. I’ll be honest—there’s still a noticeable lack of diversity, especially in gender representation—but the energy was undeniable. It felt like a living, breathing monument to what open source can be.

Seeing the project booths was like being a kid in a candy store—except I literally had a kid with me in this candy store. Mozilla, Thunderbird, Let’s Encrypt, SUSE, and of course Mastodon, to name a few. I couldn’t help myself; I told my son that when I was young, one of my first dreams was to work for SUSE. He listened carefully, the way seven-year-olds do when they’re filing away information for later use (probably to embarrass me at dinner).

Keeping a seven-year-old entertained at a developer conference is its own extreme sport. Thankfully, a friend I hadn’t seen in over a decade was there—with his kid. He’s a no-gringo, a Dutchman who happens to have worked at Innox in Mexico. Our kids hit it off, and suddenly the conference had a parallel track: unsupervised children’s chaos edition.

The Talk

When the time came for my talk, I walked in, set up, and delivered something far from perfect—but unmistakably mine. I stumbled on a couple of words, my accent was thick, and I’m sure I made at least one joke that only landed for me. But that’s the style. That’s always been the style.

Just before stepping up, Elena handed me the most fabulous FOSDEM sweater in existence. People noticed. People asked where to get one. But no—only I could have it. Exclusive distribution, zero units available. (Okay fine, I was just lucky, but let me have this moment.)

If I have one regret, it’s not spending more time in other talks. It’s not that I didn’t try—I did—but balancing a seven-year-old’s attention span with a conference schedule is a negotiation no diplomacy course prepares you for. I caught fragments, glimpses, enough to know I was missing incredible stuff. But that’s the thing about FOSDEM: it’s not a one-time event. I’ll be back. And next time, I want to do more than speak—I want to listen, linger, and actually have those hallway conversations that everyone says are the best part of any conference.

The Kid and the Dream

Here’s what got me, though. The part I didn’t expect.

My kid watched me speak at FOSDEM. He didn’t fully understand the content—he’s seven, and ActivityPub isn’t exactly bedtime story material—but he saw his dad on a stage, in front of a room full of people, in another continent, talking about something he built. When the Q&A started, he wanted to raise his hand. He got shy, though, and didn’t. Later, visibly upset about his missed opportunity, he told me what he wanted to ask: “Do you play Minecraft?” In front of an auditorium full of open-source developers discussing federation protocols, my kid’s burning question was about Minecraft. I love this human being more than I can express.

He asked questions the entire trip back: “What does SUSE do?” “Will you talk at another one?” “Can I have my own desk computer?”

He saw the booths, the projects, the people. He kept posing for photos with each open-source mascot like a tiny celebrity on a press tour. His favorite was the PostgreSQL elephant, though we were genuinely concerned about its health. Based on the state of that costume, I think he might be right—PostgreSQL could use your donations, folks. That elephant has seen better days.

And the trip back was no less insane than the trip there. Brussels → Iceland → Seattle. Because apparently, when you’re already doing something absurd, you might as well add a layover near the Arctic Circle. We landed in Reykjavík with our beach-and-winter Frankenstein luggage, stepped outside into wind that felt personally offended by our existence, and my kid asked if the land was actually made of ice. Close enough, kid. Close enough.

A week later, during a conversation with his teacher, my son was asked about the most memorable thing from the trip. He didn’t say the beach in Mexico, or the train through Europe, or the wind in Iceland, or even the lost bear pillow. He said the most memorable thing was seeing his dad talk at a university. That it made him proud (I’m not going to pretend I didn’t need a moment after hearing that).

I thought about my own childhood. About the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his town. About the dusty streets and half-built houses. About how representation works in mysterious ways—how seeing someone like you doing something impossible makes it feel possible. My son doesn’t know what it’s like to not see a path. For him, this is just what dad does. And maybe that’s the whole point.

Full Circle

Twenty years ago, I was a teenager in a small Mexican town, writing code in paper notebooks and dreaming of a world I could barely imagine. Today, I stood in Brussels and spoke to a room full of open-source developers about a project I created.

The path from there to here wasn’t straight. It was messy, full of detours, broken English, lost pillows, and more coffee than any doctor would recommend. But every step—every hackerspace meetup with eight people, every local conference talk, every late night wrestling with code—was a brick in the road that led to that stage.

And yeah, I get it, talking for half an hour at a conference with hundreds of talks may seem like a small feat. One slot among many. But it wasn’t small to me. For the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his hometown, standing in front of that room was enormous.

FOSDEM wasn’t just a conference for me. It was proof that the kid from Tepic who dreamed of finding hackers in real life finally did. They were in Brussels all along, waiting for him to show up.

And he brought his kid.

Also readable in: https://maho.dev/2026/02/fosdem-2026-the-kid-who-dreamed-of-hackers-found-them-in-brussels/ by @mapache:

#fosdem #open-source #conferences #community #travel #personal-growth #europe #public-speaking

It sounds modest now, but you have to understand the context. I come from a very small town in Mexico, the kind of place where internet was a luxury, Linux was a word nobody recognized, and “Windows” was mostly what you opened to let the heat out. The idea of attending a tech conference was absurd. Attending one in English? In another country? That was pure science fiction—like telling my block friends about Dragon Ball Z spoilers I’d read online, except even less believable.

But with time, and a painfully slow DSL connection, I found my people. I stumbled into the local Linux user group—fewer than ten of us in a city of thousands—and we built something from nothing. A hackerspace. Community events. Workshops with maybe a dozen attendees if we were lucky. Eventually, I found my way to national conferences and even talked at a few of them. Each one felt like a small victory, a tiny crack in the wall between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The Shot

So when the opportunity to submit a talk to FOSDEM 2026 appeared, I just shot my shot.

I did it almost by instinct, without overthinking it. FOSDEM—the Free and Open Source Software Developers’ European Meeting—is one of the largest open-source conferences in the world. Thousands of developers, hundreds of talks, legendary project booths. It had always been a place that existed on the other side of a dream for me. But here’s the thing: I’m more financially stable now, I’ve traveled to Europe for both leisure and work, and I speak comfortable (but still heavily accented) English. I’ve made peace with my accent—it’s part of the package, take it or leave it.

So, why not? The real surprise was that I hadn’t applied before.

The Logistics of Madness

When my proposed talk was accepted, my first reaction wasn’t joy—it was panic. The kind of panic you feel when you push to main and then read the diff. The real problem was logistics.

I already had a trip to Mexico planned for personal reasons. Going to FOSDEM meant extending the family travel by a week, rerouting flights, and solving the kind of logistical puzzle that makes your brain hurt. Tepic, a small city in the mountains of western Mexico → Mexico City → London → Brussels. With a seven-year-old. And a month’s worth of luggage packed for both the scorching Mexican beach and a freezing European winter—flip-flops sharing suitcase space with thermal jackets, sunscreen next to wool scarves. And sanity (debatable).

After my wife—bless her patience—said “just go for it,” and after numerous conversations with both AI and non-AI advisors about how to make it less stressful, we committed. At the end of January, I found myself at the tiny airport of Tepic, eating the most amazing torta de pierna, beginning an absurd journey to Belgium.

We crossed through London, hopped on the Eurostar to Brussels, and somewhere between countries, we lost a pillow—a bear-shaped one my kid had shamelessly stolen from his grandma. Rest in peace, little bear pillow. You survived a Mexican grandmother’s house only to perish somewhere in the English Channel.

The Candy Store

And then, there I was. At FOSDEM. With my kid. In Brussels.

The place was electric. People from every imaginable background wandered through the halls of the Université libre de Bruxelles. I’ll be honest—there’s still a noticeable lack of diversity, especially in gender representation—but the energy was undeniable. It felt like a living, breathing monument to what open source can be.

Seeing the project booths was like being a kid in a candy store—except I literally had a kid with me in this candy store. Mozilla, Thunderbird, Let’s Encrypt, SUSE, and of course Mastodon, to name a few. I couldn’t help myself; I told my son that when I was young, one of my first dreams was to work for SUSE. He listened carefully, the way seven-year-olds do when they’re filing away information for later use (probably to embarrass me at dinner).

Keeping a seven-year-old entertained at a developer conference is its own extreme sport. Thankfully, a friend I hadn’t seen in over a decade was there—with his kid. He’s a no-gringo, a Dutchman who happens to have worked at Innox in Mexico. Our kids hit it off, and suddenly the conference had a parallel track: unsupervised children’s chaos edition.

The Talk

When the time came for my talk, I walked in, set up, and delivered something far from perfect—but unmistakably mine. I stumbled on a couple of words, my accent was thick, and I’m sure I made at least one joke that only landed for me. But that’s the style. That’s always been the style.

Just before stepping up, Elena handed me the most fabulous FOSDEM sweater in existence. People noticed. People asked where to get one. But no—only I could have it. Exclusive distribution, zero units available. (Okay fine, I was just lucky, but let me have this moment.)

If I have one regret, it’s not spending more time in other talks. It’s not that I didn’t try—I did—but balancing a seven-year-old’s attention span with a conference schedule is a negotiation no diplomacy course prepares you for. I caught fragments, glimpses, enough to know I was missing incredible stuff. But that’s the thing about FOSDEM: it’s not a one-time event. I’ll be back. And next time, I want to do more than speak—I want to listen, linger, and actually have those hallway conversations that everyone says are the best part of any conference.

The Kid and the Dream

Here’s what got me, though. The part I didn’t expect.

My kid watched me speak at FOSDEM. He didn’t fully understand the content—he’s seven, and ActivityPub isn’t exactly bedtime story material—but he saw his dad on a stage, in front of a room full of people, in another continent, talking about something he built. When the Q&A started, he wanted to raise his hand. He got shy, though, and didn’t. Later, visibly upset about his missed opportunity, he told me what he wanted to ask: “Do you play Minecraft?” In front of an auditorium full of open-source developers discussing federation protocols, my kid’s burning question was about Minecraft. I love this human being more than I can express.

He asked questions the entire trip back: “What does SUSE do?” “Will you talk at another one?” “Can I have my own desk computer?”

He saw the booths, the projects, the people. He kept posing for photos with each open-source mascot like a tiny celebrity on a press tour. His favorite was the PostgreSQL elephant, though we were genuinely concerned about its health. Based on the state of that costume, I think he might be right—PostgreSQL could use your donations, folks. That elephant has seen better days.

And the trip back was no less insane than the trip there. Brussels → Iceland → Seattle. Because apparently, when you’re already doing something absurd, you might as well add a layover near the Arctic Circle. We landed in Reykjavík with our beach-and-winter Frankenstein luggage, stepped outside into wind that felt personally offended by our existence, and my kid asked if the land was actually made of ice. Close enough, kid. Close enough.

A week later, during a conversation with his teacher, my son was asked about the most memorable thing from the trip. He didn’t say the beach in Mexico, or the train through Europe, or the wind in Iceland, or even the lost bear pillow. He said the most memorable thing was seeing his dad talk at a university. That it made him proud (I’m not going to pretend I didn’t need a moment after hearing that).

I thought about my own childhood. About the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his town. About the dusty streets and half-built houses. About how representation works in mysterious ways—how seeing someone like you doing something impossible makes it feel possible. My son doesn’t know what it’s like to not see a path. For him, this is just what dad does. And maybe that’s the whole point.

Full Circle

Twenty years ago, I was a teenager in a small Mexican town, writing code in paper notebooks and dreaming of a world I could barely imagine. Today, I stood in Brussels and spoke to a room full of open-source developers about a project I created.

The path from there to here wasn’t straight. It was messy, full of detours, broken English, lost pillows, and more coffee than any doctor would recommend. But every step—every hackerspace meetup with eight people, every local conference talk, every late night wrestling with code—was a brick in the road that led to that stage.

And yeah, I get it, talking for half an hour at a conference with hundreds of talks may seem like a small feat. One slot among many. But it wasn’t small to me. For the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his hometown, standing in front of that room was enormous.

FOSDEM wasn’t just a conference for me. It was proof that the kid from Tepic who dreamed of finding hackers in real life finally did. They were in Brussels all along, waiting for him to show up.

And he brought his kid.

Also readable in: https://maho.dev/2026/02/fosdem-2026-the-kid-who-dreamed-of-hackers-found-them-in-brussels/ by @mapache:

#fosdem #open-source #conferences #community #travel #personal-growth #europe #public-speaking

FOSDEM 2026: The Kid Who Dreamed of Hackers Found Them in Brussels

Summary: A kid from a small Mexican town dreamed of finding real-life hackers. Two decades later, he flew his family to Brussels and spoke at one of the world’s largest open-source conferences. This is that story.

“We reject: kings, presidents and voting. We believe in: rough consensus and running code.” – David D. Clark

The Dream

When I was a young hacker—yeah, believe it or not—my dream was to find other hackers in real life and just hang out together. That’s it. That was the whole dream.

It sounds modest now, but you have to understand the context. I come from a very small town in Mexico, the kind of place where internet was a luxury, Linux was a word nobody recognized, and “Windows” was mostly what you opened to let the heat out. The idea of attending a tech conference was absurd. Attending one in English? In another country? That was pure science fiction—like telling my block friends about Dragon Ball Z spoilers I’d read online, except even less believable.

But with time, and a painfully slow DSL connection, I found my people. I stumbled into the local Linux user group—fewer than ten of us in a city of thousands—and we built something from nothing. A hackerspace. Community events. Workshops with maybe a dozen attendees if we were lucky. Eventually, I found my way to national conferences and even talked at a few of them. Each one felt like a small victory, a tiny crack in the wall between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The Shot

So when the opportunity to submit a talk to FOSDEM 2026 appeared, I just shot my shot.

I did it almost by instinct, without overthinking it. FOSDEM—the Free and Open Source Software Developers’ European Meeting—is one of the largest open-source conferences in the world. Thousands of developers, hundreds of talks, legendary project booths. It had always been a place that existed on the other side of a dream for me. But here’s the thing: I’m more financially stable now, I’ve traveled to Europe for both leisure and work, and I speak comfortable (but still heavily accented) English. I’ve made peace with my accent—it’s part of the package, take it or leave it.

So, why not? The real surprise was that I hadn’t applied before.

The Logistics of Madness

When my proposed talk was accepted, my first reaction wasn’t joy—it was panic. The kind of panic you feel when you push to main and then read the diff. The real problem was logistics.

I already had a trip to Mexico planned for personal reasons. Going to FOSDEM meant extending the family travel by a week, rerouting flights, and solving the kind of logistical puzzle that makes your brain hurt. Tepic, a small city in the mountains of western Mexico → Mexico City → London → Brussels. With a seven-year-old. And a month’s worth of luggage packed for both the scorching Mexican beach and a freezing European winter—flip-flops sharing suitcase space with thermal jackets, sunscreen next to wool scarves. And sanity (debatable).

After my wife—bless her patience—said “just go for it,” and after numerous conversations with both AI and non-AI advisors about how to make it less stressful, we committed. At the end of January, I found myself at the tiny airport of Tepic, eating the most amazing torta de pierna, beginning an absurd journey to Belgium.

We crossed through London, hopped on the Eurostar to Brussels, and somewhere between countries, we lost a pillow—a bear-shaped one my kid had shamelessly stolen from his grandma. Rest in peace, little bear pillow. You survived a Mexican grandmother’s house only to perish somewhere in the English Channel.

The Candy Store

And then, there I was. At FOSDEM. With my kid. In Brussels.

The place was electric. People from every imaginable background wandered through the halls of the Université libre de Bruxelles. I’ll be honest—there’s still a noticeable lack of diversity, especially in gender representation—but the energy was undeniable. It felt like a living, breathing monument to what open source can be.

Seeing the project booths was like being a kid in a candy store—except I literally had a kid with me in this candy store. Mozilla, Thunderbird, Let’s Encrypt, SUSE, and of course Mastodon, to name a few. I couldn’t help myself; I told my son that when I was young, one of my first dreams was to work for SUSE. He listened carefully, the way seven-year-olds do when they’re filing away information for later use (probably to embarrass me at dinner).

Keeping a seven-year-old entertained at a developer conference is its own extreme sport. Thankfully, a friend I hadn’t seen in over a decade was there—with his kid. He’s a no-gringo, a Dutchman who happens to have worked at Innox in Mexico. Our kids hit it off, and suddenly the conference had a parallel track: unsupervised children’s chaos edition.

The Talk

When the time came for my talk, I walked in, set up, and delivered something far from perfect—but unmistakably mine. I stumbled on a couple of words, my accent was thick, and I’m sure I made at least one joke that only landed for me. But that’s the style. That’s always been the style.

Just before stepping up, Elena handed me the most fabulous FOSDEM sweater in existence. People noticed. People asked where to get one. But no—only I could have it. Exclusive distribution, zero units available. (Okay fine, I was just lucky, but let me have this moment.)

If I have one regret, it’s not spending more time in other talks. It’s not that I didn’t try—I did—but balancing a seven-year-old’s attention span with a conference schedule is a negotiation no diplomacy course prepares you for. I caught fragments, glimpses, enough to know I was missing incredible stuff. But that’s the thing about FOSDEM: it’s not a one-time event. I’ll be back. And next time, I want to do more than speak—I want to listen, linger, and actually have those hallway conversations that everyone says are the best part of any conference.

The Kid and the Dream

Here’s what got me, though. The part I didn’t expect.

My kid watched me speak at FOSDEM. He didn’t fully understand the content—he’s seven, and ActivityPub isn’t exactly bedtime story material—but he saw his dad on a stage, in front of a room full of people, in another continent, talking about something he built. When the Q&A started, he wanted to raise his hand. He got shy, though, and didn’t. Later, visibly upset about his missed opportunity, he told me what he wanted to ask: “Do you play Minecraft?” In front of an auditorium full of open-source developers discussing federation protocols, my kid’s burning question was about Minecraft. I love this human being more than I can express.

He asked questions the entire trip back: “What does SUSE do?” “Will you talk at another one?” “Can I have my own desk computer?”

He saw the booths, the projects, the people. He kept posing for photos with each open-source mascot like a tiny celebrity on a press tour. His favorite was the PostgreSQL elephant, though we were genuinely concerned about its health. Based on the state of that costume, I think he might be right—PostgreSQL could use your donations, folks. That elephant has seen better days.

And the trip back was no less insane than the trip there. Brussels → Iceland → Seattle. Because apparently, when you’re already doing something absurd, you might as well add a layover near the Arctic Circle. We landed in Reykjavík with our beach-and-winter Frankenstein luggage, stepped outside into wind that felt personally offended by our existence, and my kid asked if the land was actually made of ice. Close enough, kid. Close enough.

A week later, during a conversation with his teacher, my son was asked about the most memorable thing from the trip. He didn’t say the beach in Mexico, or the train through Europe, or the wind in Iceland, or even the lost bear pillow. He said the most memorable thing was seeing his dad talk at a university. That it made him proud (I’m not going to pretend I didn’t need a moment after hearing that).

I thought about my own childhood. About the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his town. About the dusty streets and half-built houses. About how representation works in mysterious ways—how seeing someone like you doing something impossible makes it feel possible. My son doesn’t know what it’s like to not see a path. For him, this is just what dad does. And maybe that’s the whole point.

Full Circle

Twenty years ago, I was a teenager in a small Mexican town, writing code in paper notebooks and dreaming of a world I could barely imagine. Today, I stood in Brussels and spoke to a room full of open-source developers about a project I created.

The path from there to here wasn’t straight. It was messy, full of detours, broken English, lost pillows, and more coffee than any doctor would recommend. But every step—every hackerspace meetup with eight people, every local conference talk, every late night wrestling with code—was a brick in the road that led to that stage.

And yeah, I get it, talking for half an hour at a conference with hundreds of talks may seem like a small feat. One slot among many. But it wasn’t small to me. For the kid who couldn’t find a single hacker in his hometown, standing in front of that room was enormous.

FOSDEM wasn’t just a conference for me. It was proof that the kid from Tepic who dreamed of finding hackers in real life finally did. They were in Brussels all along, waiting for him to show up.

And he brought his kid.

Also readable in: https://maho.dev/2026/02/fosdem-2026-the-kid-who-dreamed-of-hackers-found-them-in-brussels/ by @mapache:

#fosdem #open-source #conferences #community #travel #personal-growth #europe #public-speaking

The first signs of burnout are coming from the people who embrace #AI the most - https://techcrunch.com/2026/02/09/the-first-signs-of-burnout-are-coming-from-the-people-who-embrace-ai-the-most/

The most seductive narrative in American work culture right now isn’t that AI will take your job. It’s that AI will save you from it.

That’s the version the industry has spent the last three years selling to millions of nervous people who are eager to buy it.

But a new study finds there isn’t a productivity revolution. It finds companies are at risk of becoming burnout machines.

https://techcrunch.com/2026/02/09/the-first-signs-of-burnout-are-coming-from-the-people-who-embrace-ai-the-most/

The most seductive narrative in American work culture right now isn’t that AI will take your job. It’s that AI will save you from it.

That’s the version the industry has spent the last three years selling to millions of nervous people who are eager to buy it.

But a new study finds there isn’t a productivity revolution. It finds companies are at risk of becoming burnout machines.

https://techcrunch.com/2026/02/09/the-first-signs-of-burnout-are-coming-from-the-people-who-embrace-ai-the-most/

The most seductive narrative in American work culture right now isn’t that AI will take your job. It’s that AI will save you from it.

That’s the version the industry has spent the last three years selling to millions of nervous people who are eager to buy it.

But a new study finds there isn’t a productivity revolution. It finds companies are at risk of becoming burnout machines.

https://techcrunch.com/2026/02/09/the-first-signs-of-burnout-are-coming-from-the-people-who-embrace-ai-the-most/

The first signs of burnout are coming from the people who embrace #AI the most - https://techcrunch.com/2026/02/09/the-first-signs-of-burnout-are-coming-from-the-people-who-embrace-ai-the-most/

The first signs of burnout are coming from the people who embrace #AI the most - https://techcrunch.com/2026/02/09/the-first-signs-of-burnout-are-coming-from-the-people-who-embrace-ai-the-most/

https://techcrunch.com/2026/02/09/the-first-signs-of-burnout-are-coming-from-the-people-who-embrace-ai-the-most/

"You had thought that maybe, oh, because you could be more productive with AI, then you save some time, you can work less. But then really, you don’t work less. You just work the same amount or even more." https://techcrunch.com/2026/02/09/the-first-signs-of-burnout-are-coming-from-the-people-who-embrace-ai-the-most/

The most seductive narrative in American work culture right now isn’t that AI will take your job. It’s that AI will save you from it.

That’s the version the industry has spent the last three years selling to millions of nervous people who are eager to buy it.

But a new study finds there isn’t a productivity revolution. It finds companies are at risk of becoming burnout machines.

https://techcrunch.com/2026/02/09/the-first-signs-of-burnout-are-coming-from-the-people-who-embrace-ai-the-most/

The first signs of burnout are coming from the people who embrace #AI the most - https://techcrunch.com/2026/02/09/the-first-signs-of-burnout-are-coming-from-the-people-who-embrace-ai-the-most/

https://shumer.dev/something-big-is-happening

https://shumer.dev/something-big-is-happening

A reason for people to live closer to family. Seriously.

#jgshare

Curb the enthusiasm much?
#AIhype #AI #ML #MLsec

https://shumer.dev/something-big-is-happening

Something Big Is Happening - https://shumer.dev/something-big-is-happening

A personal note for non-tech friends and family on what AI is starting to change.

#im

https://shumer.dev/something-big-is-happening
http://www.techmeme.com/260211/p7#a260211p7

“The experience that tech workers have had over the past year, of watching AI go from "helpful tool" to "does my job better than I do", is the experience everyone else is about to have. Law, finance, medicine, accounting, consulting, writing, design, analysis, customer service. Not in ten years. The people building these systems say one to five years. Some say less. And given what I've seen in just the last couple of months, I think "less" is more likely.”
https://shumer.dev/something-big-is-happening

Something Big Is Happening
by Matt Shumer, 9 Feb 2026
🔗 AI Tech blog* https://shumer.dev/something-big-is-happening

*Grace note: My kid in quantum computing has told me more than once to ditch substack and build a raw platform like this. 1/

"I'll tell the AI: "I want to build this app. Here's what it should do, here's roughly what it should look like. Figure out the user flow, the design, all of it." And it does. It writes tens of thousands of lines of code. Then, and this is the part that would have been unthinkable a year ago, it opens the app itself. It clicks through the buttons. It tests the features. If it doesn't like how something looks or feels, it goes back and changes it, on its own.”

https://shumer.dev/something-big-is-happening (2/2)

Something Big Is Happening — matt shumer

"We're past the point where this is an interesting dinner conversation about the future. The future is already here. It just hasn't knocked on your door yet.

It's about to."

https://shumer.dev/something-big-is-happening

#ai #career #codegen #future #llms #work

https://shumer.dev/something-big-is-happening

Hello nerds!

We've just created the first release candidate version of #GoToSocial v0.21.0 Sacrilegious Sloth!

https://codeberg.org/superseriousbusiness/gotosocial/releases/tag/v0.21.0-rc1

Adventurous admins can try updating to this release candidate, and let us know if there's any new and interesting bugs to be found.

We're really proud of this one, the sloth is starting to feel really useable and good!

Please read the migration notes carefully for instructions on how to upgrade to this version. Bear in mind there are a few big-ish database migrations in this one, which may take somewhere between a minute or 20+ minutes to run (depending on your hardware). Be patient, backup your database first, and don't interrupt the migrations.

Release highlights

• Domain Limits: You can now create domain limits in the admin section of the settings panel, in order to do things like limit + mute all accounts on a domain (except ones you follow), add content warnings to posts from limited domains, mark media as sensitive (or don't download it at all).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/admin/domain_limits/
• Indexable support: You can now mark your account as "indexable" by full-text search, in the settings panel. This will federate your preference to other servers, so that servers with full-text search functionality can include your posts in search results.
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#mark-accounts-posts-as-full-text-indexable
• Show reblogs on the web view of your profile (opt-in): A new setting in the settings panel allows you to opt-in to showing posts that you've boosted/reblogged on the web view of your profile. The default setting retains existing behavior (don't show boosts on the web view).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#include-boosts-on-the-web-view-of-your-profile
• Better caching behavior for timelines. The number of database calls when browsing local + public timelines and lists should be significantly reduced.
• Store + show reason for undownloaded media: When media fails to be downloaded from a remote instance, the reason why will be shown next to the post.
• Include canQuote property on outgoing posts: Currently, this is always set to author-only, but it paves the way (and signals intent) for GtS to implement quote toots at some point.
• Much improved OpenGraph previews: Whitespace is now preserved in OpenGraph previews, and media + formatting was rejigged, so linking to GoToSocial posts should result in much better OpenGraph-generated preview cards.
• Expand/collapse all spoilers button on web view of threads: when viewing threads in the web view, you can now expand/collapse all spoilers at the click of a button.
• S3 Object Info Caching: you can now configure cache.s3-object-info in order to mitigate expensive S3 info calls when doing nightly media cleanup.
• Preserve significant whitespaces in incoming + outgoing posts: previously we were squashing a lot of whitespace together, which meant that, for example, indentation could get lost on posts federated into a GoToSocial instance. This is now fixed, so you can post poetry and whatnot without worrying about it looking like hot crap.
• Millions of fucking bugfixes: we squashed a lot of them!

Hello nerds!

We've just created the first release candidate version of #GoToSocial v0.21.0 Sacrilegious Sloth!

https://codeberg.org/superseriousbusiness/gotosocial/releases/tag/v0.21.0-rc1

Adventurous admins can try updating to this release candidate, and let us know if there's any new and interesting bugs to be found.

We're really proud of this one, the sloth is starting to feel really useable and good!

Please read the migration notes carefully for instructions on how to upgrade to this version. Bear in mind there are a few big-ish database migrations in this one, which may take somewhere between a minute or 20+ minutes to run (depending on your hardware). Be patient, backup your database first, and don't interrupt the migrations.

Release highlights

• Domain Limits: You can now create domain limits in the admin section of the settings panel, in order to do things like limit + mute all accounts on a domain (except ones you follow), add content warnings to posts from limited domains, mark media as sensitive (or don't download it at all).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/admin/domain_limits/
• Indexable support: You can now mark your account as "indexable" by full-text search, in the settings panel. This will federate your preference to other servers, so that servers with full-text search functionality can include your posts in search results.
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#mark-accounts-posts-as-full-text-indexable
• Show reblogs on the web view of your profile (opt-in): A new setting in the settings panel allows you to opt-in to showing posts that you've boosted/reblogged on the web view of your profile. The default setting retains existing behavior (don't show boosts on the web view).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#include-boosts-on-the-web-view-of-your-profile
• Better caching behavior for timelines. The number of database calls when browsing local + public timelines and lists should be significantly reduced.
• Store + show reason for undownloaded media: When media fails to be downloaded from a remote instance, the reason why will be shown next to the post.
• Include canQuote property on outgoing posts: Currently, this is always set to author-only, but it paves the way (and signals intent) for GtS to implement quote toots at some point.
• Much improved OpenGraph previews: Whitespace is now preserved in OpenGraph previews, and media + formatting was rejigged, so linking to GoToSocial posts should result in much better OpenGraph-generated preview cards.
• Expand/collapse all spoilers button on web view of threads: when viewing threads in the web view, you can now expand/collapse all spoilers at the click of a button.
• S3 Object Info Caching: you can now configure cache.s3-object-info in order to mitigate expensive S3 info calls when doing nightly media cleanup.
• Preserve significant whitespaces in incoming + outgoing posts: previously we were squashing a lot of whitespace together, which meant that, for example, indentation could get lost on posts federated into a GoToSocial instance. This is now fixed, so you can post poetry and whatnot without worrying about it looking like hot crap.
• Millions of fucking bugfixes: we squashed a lot of them!

Hello nerds!

We've just created the first release candidate version of #GoToSocial v0.21.0 Sacrilegious Sloth!

https://codeberg.org/superseriousbusiness/gotosocial/releases/tag/v0.21.0-rc1

Adventurous admins can try updating to this release candidate, and let us know if there's any new and interesting bugs to be found.

We're really proud of this one, the sloth is starting to feel really useable and good!

Please read the migration notes carefully for instructions on how to upgrade to this version. Bear in mind there are a few big-ish database migrations in this one, which may take somewhere between a minute or 20+ minutes to run (depending on your hardware). Be patient, backup your database first, and don't interrupt the migrations.

Release highlights

• Domain Limits: You can now create domain limits in the admin section of the settings panel, in order to do things like limit + mute all accounts on a domain (except ones you follow), add content warnings to posts from limited domains, mark media as sensitive (or don't download it at all).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/admin/domain_limits/
• Indexable support: You can now mark your account as "indexable" by full-text search, in the settings panel. This will federate your preference to other servers, so that servers with full-text search functionality can include your posts in search results.
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#mark-accounts-posts-as-full-text-indexable
• Show reblogs on the web view of your profile (opt-in): A new setting in the settings panel allows you to opt-in to showing posts that you've boosted/reblogged on the web view of your profile. The default setting retains existing behavior (don't show boosts on the web view).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#include-boosts-on-the-web-view-of-your-profile
• Better caching behavior for timelines. The number of database calls when browsing local + public timelines and lists should be significantly reduced.
• Store + show reason for undownloaded media: When media fails to be downloaded from a remote instance, the reason why will be shown next to the post.
• Include canQuote property on outgoing posts: Currently, this is always set to author-only, but it paves the way (and signals intent) for GtS to implement quote toots at some point.
• Much improved OpenGraph previews: Whitespace is now preserved in OpenGraph previews, and media + formatting was rejigged, so linking to GoToSocial posts should result in much better OpenGraph-generated preview cards.
• Expand/collapse all spoilers button on web view of threads: when viewing threads in the web view, you can now expand/collapse all spoilers at the click of a button.
• S3 Object Info Caching: you can now configure cache.s3-object-info in order to mitigate expensive S3 info calls when doing nightly media cleanup.
• Preserve significant whitespaces in incoming + outgoing posts: previously we were squashing a lot of whitespace together, which meant that, for example, indentation could get lost on posts federated into a GoToSocial instance. This is now fixed, so you can post poetry and whatnot without worrying about it looking like hot crap.
• Millions of fucking bugfixes: we squashed a lot of them!

Hello nerds!

We've just created the first release candidate version of #GoToSocial v0.21.0 Sacrilegious Sloth!

https://codeberg.org/superseriousbusiness/gotosocial/releases/tag/v0.21.0-rc1

Adventurous admins can try updating to this release candidate, and let us know if there's any new and interesting bugs to be found.

We're really proud of this one, the sloth is starting to feel really useable and good!

Please read the migration notes carefully for instructions on how to upgrade to this version. Bear in mind there are a few big-ish database migrations in this one, which may take somewhere between a minute or 20+ minutes to run (depending on your hardware). Be patient, backup your database first, and don't interrupt the migrations.

Release highlights

• Domain Limits: You can now create domain limits in the admin section of the settings panel, in order to do things like limit + mute all accounts on a domain (except ones you follow), add content warnings to posts from limited domains, mark media as sensitive (or don't download it at all).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/admin/domain_limits/
• Indexable support: You can now mark your account as "indexable" by full-text search, in the settings panel. This will federate your preference to other servers, so that servers with full-text search functionality can include your posts in search results.
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#mark-accounts-posts-as-full-text-indexable
• Show reblogs on the web view of your profile (opt-in): A new setting in the settings panel allows you to opt-in to showing posts that you've boosted/reblogged on the web view of your profile. The default setting retains existing behavior (don't show boosts on the web view).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#include-boosts-on-the-web-view-of-your-profile
• Better caching behavior for timelines. The number of database calls when browsing local + public timelines and lists should be significantly reduced.
• Store + show reason for undownloaded media: When media fails to be downloaded from a remote instance, the reason why will be shown next to the post.
• Include canQuote property on outgoing posts: Currently, this is always set to author-only, but it paves the way (and signals intent) for GtS to implement quote toots at some point.
• Much improved OpenGraph previews: Whitespace is now preserved in OpenGraph previews, and media + formatting was rejigged, so linking to GoToSocial posts should result in much better OpenGraph-generated preview cards.
• Expand/collapse all spoilers button on web view of threads: when viewing threads in the web view, you can now expand/collapse all spoilers at the click of a button.
• S3 Object Info Caching: you can now configure cache.s3-object-info in order to mitigate expensive S3 info calls when doing nightly media cleanup.
• Preserve significant whitespaces in incoming + outgoing posts: previously we were squashing a lot of whitespace together, which meant that, for example, indentation could get lost on posts federated into a GoToSocial instance. This is now fixed, so you can post poetry and whatnot without worrying about it looking like hot crap.
• Millions of fucking bugfixes: we squashed a lot of them!

Hello nerds!

We've just created the first release candidate version of #GoToSocial v0.21.0 Sacrilegious Sloth!

https://codeberg.org/superseriousbusiness/gotosocial/releases/tag/v0.21.0-rc1

Adventurous admins can try updating to this release candidate, and let us know if there's any new and interesting bugs to be found.

We're really proud of this one, the sloth is starting to feel really useable and good!

Please read the migration notes carefully for instructions on how to upgrade to this version. Bear in mind there are a few big-ish database migrations in this one, which may take somewhere between a minute or 20+ minutes to run (depending on your hardware). Be patient, backup your database first, and don't interrupt the migrations.

Release highlights

• Domain Limits: You can now create domain limits in the admin section of the settings panel, in order to do things like limit + mute all accounts on a domain (except ones you follow), add content warnings to posts from limited domains, mark media as sensitive (or don't download it at all).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/admin/domain_limits/
• Indexable support: You can now mark your account as "indexable" by full-text search, in the settings panel. This will federate your preference to other servers, so that servers with full-text search functionality can include your posts in search results.
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#mark-accounts-posts-as-full-text-indexable
• Show reblogs on the web view of your profile (opt-in): A new setting in the settings panel allows you to opt-in to showing posts that you've boosted/reblogged on the web view of your profile. The default setting retains existing behavior (don't show boosts on the web view).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#include-boosts-on-the-web-view-of-your-profile
• Better caching behavior for timelines. The number of database calls when browsing local + public timelines and lists should be significantly reduced.
• Store + show reason for undownloaded media: When media fails to be downloaded from a remote instance, the reason why will be shown next to the post.
• Include canQuote property on outgoing posts: Currently, this is always set to author-only, but it paves the way (and signals intent) for GtS to implement quote toots at some point.
• Much improved OpenGraph previews: Whitespace is now preserved in OpenGraph previews, and media + formatting was rejigged, so linking to GoToSocial posts should result in much better OpenGraph-generated preview cards.
• Expand/collapse all spoilers button on web view of threads: when viewing threads in the web view, you can now expand/collapse all spoilers at the click of a button.
• S3 Object Info Caching: you can now configure cache.s3-object-info in order to mitigate expensive S3 info calls when doing nightly media cleanup.
• Preserve significant whitespaces in incoming + outgoing posts: previously we were squashing a lot of whitespace together, which meant that, for example, indentation could get lost on posts federated into a GoToSocial instance. This is now fixed, so you can post poetry and whatnot without worrying about it looking like hot crap.
• Millions of fucking bugfixes: we squashed a lot of them!

Hello nerds!

We've just created the first release candidate version of #GoToSocial v0.21.0 Sacrilegious Sloth!

https://codeberg.org/superseriousbusiness/gotosocial/releases/tag/v0.21.0-rc1

Adventurous admins can try updating to this release candidate, and let us know if there's any new and interesting bugs to be found.

We're really proud of this one, the sloth is starting to feel really useable and good!

Please read the migration notes carefully for instructions on how to upgrade to this version. Bear in mind there are a few big-ish database migrations in this one, which may take somewhere between a minute or 20+ minutes to run (depending on your hardware). Be patient, backup your database first, and don't interrupt the migrations.

Release highlights

• Domain Limits: You can now create domain limits in the admin section of the settings panel, in order to do things like limit + mute all accounts on a domain (except ones you follow), add content warnings to posts from limited domains, mark media as sensitive (or don't download it at all).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/admin/domain_limits/
• Indexable support: You can now mark your account as "indexable" by full-text search, in the settings panel. This will federate your preference to other servers, so that servers with full-text search functionality can include your posts in search results.
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#mark-accounts-posts-as-full-text-indexable
• Show reblogs on the web view of your profile (opt-in): A new setting in the settings panel allows you to opt-in to showing posts that you've boosted/reblogged on the web view of your profile. The default setting retains existing behavior (don't show boosts on the web view).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#include-boosts-on-the-web-view-of-your-profile
• Better caching behavior for timelines. The number of database calls when browsing local + public timelines and lists should be significantly reduced.
• Store + show reason for undownloaded media: When media fails to be downloaded from a remote instance, the reason why will be shown next to the post.
• Include canQuote property on outgoing posts: Currently, this is always set to author-only, but it paves the way (and signals intent) for GtS to implement quote toots at some point.
• Much improved OpenGraph previews: Whitespace is now preserved in OpenGraph previews, and media + formatting was rejigged, so linking to GoToSocial posts should result in much better OpenGraph-generated preview cards.
• Expand/collapse all spoilers button on web view of threads: when viewing threads in the web view, you can now expand/collapse all spoilers at the click of a button.
• S3 Object Info Caching: you can now configure cache.s3-object-info in order to mitigate expensive S3 info calls when doing nightly media cleanup.
• Preserve significant whitespaces in incoming + outgoing posts: previously we were squashing a lot of whitespace together, which meant that, for example, indentation could get lost on posts federated into a GoToSocial instance. This is now fixed, so you can post poetry and whatnot without worrying about it looking like hot crap.
• Millions of fucking bugfixes: we squashed a lot of them!

Hello nerds!

We've just created the first release candidate version of #GoToSocial v0.21.0 Sacrilegious Sloth!

https://codeberg.org/superseriousbusiness/gotosocial/releases/tag/v0.21.0-rc1

Adventurous admins can try updating to this release candidate, and let us know if there's any new and interesting bugs to be found.

We're really proud of this one, the sloth is starting to feel really useable and good!

Please read the migration notes carefully for instructions on how to upgrade to this version. Bear in mind there are a few big-ish database migrations in this one, which may take somewhere between a minute or 20+ minutes to run (depending on your hardware). Be patient, backup your database first, and don't interrupt the migrations.

Release highlights

• Domain Limits: You can now create domain limits in the admin section of the settings panel, in order to do things like limit + mute all accounts on a domain (except ones you follow), add content warnings to posts from limited domains, mark media as sensitive (or don't download it at all).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/admin/domain_limits/
• Indexable support: You can now mark your account as "indexable" by full-text search, in the settings panel. This will federate your preference to other servers, so that servers with full-text search functionality can include your posts in search results.
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#mark-accounts-posts-as-full-text-indexable
• Show reblogs on the web view of your profile (opt-in): A new setting in the settings panel allows you to opt-in to showing posts that you've boosted/reblogged on the web view of your profile. The default setting retains existing behavior (don't show boosts on the web view).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#include-boosts-on-the-web-view-of-your-profile
• Better caching behavior for timelines. The number of database calls when browsing local + public timelines and lists should be significantly reduced.
• Store + show reason for undownloaded media: When media fails to be downloaded from a remote instance, the reason why will be shown next to the post.
• Include canQuote property on outgoing posts: Currently, this is always set to author-only, but it paves the way (and signals intent) for GtS to implement quote toots at some point.
• Much improved OpenGraph previews: Whitespace is now preserved in OpenGraph previews, and media + formatting was rejigged, so linking to GoToSocial posts should result in much better OpenGraph-generated preview cards.
• Expand/collapse all spoilers button on web view of threads: when viewing threads in the web view, you can now expand/collapse all spoilers at the click of a button.
• S3 Object Info Caching: you can now configure cache.s3-object-info in order to mitigate expensive S3 info calls when doing nightly media cleanup.
• Preserve significant whitespaces in incoming + outgoing posts: previously we were squashing a lot of whitespace together, which meant that, for example, indentation could get lost on posts federated into a GoToSocial instance. This is now fixed, so you can post poetry and whatnot without worrying about it looking like hot crap.
• Millions of fucking bugfixes: we squashed a lot of them!

Hello nerds!

We've just created the first release candidate version of #GoToSocial v0.21.0 Sacrilegious Sloth!

https://codeberg.org/superseriousbusiness/gotosocial/releases/tag/v0.21.0-rc1

Adventurous admins can try updating to this release candidate, and let us know if there's any new and interesting bugs to be found.

We're really proud of this one, the sloth is starting to feel really useable and good!

Please read the migration notes carefully for instructions on how to upgrade to this version. Bear in mind there are a few big-ish database migrations in this one, which may take somewhere between a minute or 20+ minutes to run (depending on your hardware). Be patient, backup your database first, and don't interrupt the migrations.

Release highlights

• Domain Limits: You can now create domain limits in the admin section of the settings panel, in order to do things like limit + mute all accounts on a domain (except ones you follow), add content warnings to posts from limited domains, mark media as sensitive (or don't download it at all).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/admin/domain_limits/
• Indexable support: You can now mark your account as "indexable" by full-text search, in the settings panel. This will federate your preference to other servers, so that servers with full-text search functionality can include your posts in search results.
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#mark-accounts-posts-as-full-text-indexable
• Show reblogs on the web view of your profile (opt-in): A new setting in the settings panel allows you to opt-in to showing posts that you've boosted/reblogged on the web view of your profile. The default setting retains existing behavior (don't show boosts on the web view).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#include-boosts-on-the-web-view-of-your-profile
• Better caching behavior for timelines. The number of database calls when browsing local + public timelines and lists should be significantly reduced.
• Store + show reason for undownloaded media: When media fails to be downloaded from a remote instance, the reason why will be shown next to the post.
• Include canQuote property on outgoing posts: Currently, this is always set to author-only, but it paves the way (and signals intent) for GtS to implement quote toots at some point.
• Much improved OpenGraph previews: Whitespace is now preserved in OpenGraph previews, and media + formatting was rejigged, so linking to GoToSocial posts should result in much better OpenGraph-generated preview cards.
• Expand/collapse all spoilers button on web view of threads: when viewing threads in the web view, you can now expand/collapse all spoilers at the click of a button.
• S3 Object Info Caching: you can now configure cache.s3-object-info in order to mitigate expensive S3 info calls when doing nightly media cleanup.
• Preserve significant whitespaces in incoming + outgoing posts: previously we were squashing a lot of whitespace together, which meant that, for example, indentation could get lost on posts federated into a GoToSocial instance. This is now fixed, so you can post poetry and whatnot without worrying about it looking like hot crap.
• Millions of fucking bugfixes: we squashed a lot of them!

Hello nerds!

We've just created the first release candidate version of #GoToSocial v0.21.0 Sacrilegious Sloth!

https://codeberg.org/superseriousbusiness/gotosocial/releases/tag/v0.21.0-rc1

Adventurous admins can try updating to this release candidate, and let us know if there's any new and interesting bugs to be found.

We're really proud of this one, the sloth is starting to feel really useable and good!

Please read the migration notes carefully for instructions on how to upgrade to this version. Bear in mind there are a few big-ish database migrations in this one, which may take somewhere between a minute or 20+ minutes to run (depending on your hardware). Be patient, backup your database first, and don't interrupt the migrations.

Release highlights

• Domain Limits: You can now create domain limits in the admin section of the settings panel, in order to do things like limit + mute all accounts on a domain (except ones you follow), add content warnings to posts from limited domains, mark media as sensitive (or don't download it at all).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/admin/domain_limits/
• Indexable support: You can now mark your account as "indexable" by full-text search, in the settings panel. This will federate your preference to other servers, so that servers with full-text search functionality can include your posts in search results.
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#mark-accounts-posts-as-full-text-indexable
• Show reblogs on the web view of your profile (opt-in): A new setting in the settings panel allows you to opt-in to showing posts that you've boosted/reblogged on the web view of your profile. The default setting retains existing behavior (don't show boosts on the web view).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#include-boosts-on-the-web-view-of-your-profile
• Better caching behavior for timelines. The number of database calls when browsing local + public timelines and lists should be significantly reduced.
• Store + show reason for undownloaded media: When media fails to be downloaded from a remote instance, the reason why will be shown next to the post.
• Include canQuote property on outgoing posts: Currently, this is always set to author-only, but it paves the way (and signals intent) for GtS to implement quote toots at some point.
• Much improved OpenGraph previews: Whitespace is now preserved in OpenGraph previews, and media + formatting was rejigged, so linking to GoToSocial posts should result in much better OpenGraph-generated preview cards.
• Expand/collapse all spoilers button on web view of threads: when viewing threads in the web view, you can now expand/collapse all spoilers at the click of a button.
• S3 Object Info Caching: you can now configure cache.s3-object-info in order to mitigate expensive S3 info calls when doing nightly media cleanup.
• Preserve significant whitespaces in incoming + outgoing posts: previously we were squashing a lot of whitespace together, which meant that, for example, indentation could get lost on posts federated into a GoToSocial instance. This is now fixed, so you can post poetry and whatnot without worrying about it looking like hot crap.
• Millions of fucking bugfixes: we squashed a lot of them!

Hello nerds!

We've just created the first release candidate version of #GoToSocial v0.21.0 Sacrilegious Sloth!

https://codeberg.org/superseriousbusiness/gotosocial/releases/tag/v0.21.0-rc1

Adventurous admins can try updating to this release candidate, and let us know if there's any new and interesting bugs to be found.

We're really proud of this one, the sloth is starting to feel really useable and good!

Please read the migration notes carefully for instructions on how to upgrade to this version. Bear in mind there are a few big-ish database migrations in this one, which may take somewhere between a minute or 20+ minutes to run (depending on your hardware). Be patient, backup your database first, and don't interrupt the migrations.

Release highlights

• Domain Limits: You can now create domain limits in the admin section of the settings panel, in order to do things like limit + mute all accounts on a domain (except ones you follow), add content warnings to posts from limited domains, mark media as sensitive (or don't download it at all).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/admin/domain_limits/
• Indexable support: You can now mark your account as "indexable" by full-text search, in the settings panel. This will federate your preference to other servers, so that servers with full-text search functionality can include your posts in search results.
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#mark-accounts-posts-as-full-text-indexable
• Show reblogs on the web view of your profile (opt-in): A new setting in the settings panel allows you to opt-in to showing posts that you've boosted/reblogged on the web view of your profile. The default setting retains existing behavior (don't show boosts on the web view).
  Documented here: https://docs.gotosocial.org/en/latest/user_guide/settings/#include-boosts-on-the-web-view-of-your-profile
• Better caching behavior for timelines. The number of database calls when browsing local + public timelines and lists should be significantly reduced.
• Store + show reason for undownloaded media: When media fails to be downloaded from a remote instance, the reason why will be shown next to the post.
• Include canQuote property on outgoing posts: Currently, this is always set to author-only, but it paves the way (and signals intent) for GtS to implement quote toots at some point.
• Much improved OpenGraph previews: Whitespace is now preserved in OpenGraph previews, and media + formatting was rejigged, so linking to GoToSocial posts should result in much better OpenGraph-generated preview cards.
• Expand/collapse all spoilers button on web view of threads: when viewing threads in the web view, you can now expand/collapse all spoilers at the click of a button.
• S3 Object Info Caching: you can now configure cache.s3-object-info in order to mitigate expensive S3 info calls when doing nightly media cleanup.
• Preserve significant whitespaces in incoming + outgoing posts: previously we were squashing a lot of whitespace together, which meant that, for example, indentation could get lost on posts federated into a GoToSocial instance. This is now fixed, so you can post poetry and whatnot without worrying about it looking like hot crap.
• Millions of fucking bugfixes: we squashed a lot of them!

How Daniel Stenberg, founder of #curl, is Navigating the AI Onslop

https://redmonk.com/videos/daniel-stenberg-ai-onslop/

How Daniel Stenberg, founder of #curl, is Navigating the AI Onslop

https://redmonk.com/videos/daniel-stenberg-ai-onslop/

How Daniel Stenberg, founder of #curl, is Navigating the AI Onslop

https://redmonk.com/videos/daniel-stenberg-ai-onslop/

How Daniel Stenberg, founder of #curl, is Navigating the AI Onslop

https://redmonk.com/videos/daniel-stenberg-ai-onslop/