Heartwarming dramedy Shrinking has returned with season 3, bringing back its intoxicating blend of goofy humour and emotional moments. While making a funny show about grief is not easy, the Apple TV production proves that it can be masterfully done.
So much so that the series has been praised by critics every since it premiered. As long as the third season follows the same pattern, should we expect another follow-up somewhere down the line?
Shrinking Season 4 Release Date
Shrinking fans can breathe easy: the show has already scored a renewal. Apple TV recently shared the news, highlighting the fact that the show has been consistently celebrated as “one of TV’s best-written comedies.”
While there’s no official premiere date, we can expect Shrinking season 4 to arrive in early 2027.
Shrinking Cast
Jason Segel as Jimmy
Harrison Ford as Paul
Jessica Williams as Gaby
Luke Tennie as Sean
Michael Urie as Brian
Lukita Maxwell as Alice
Christa Miller as Liz
Ted McGinley as Derek
What Is Shrinking About?
Shrinking follows Jimmy, a therapist who decides to throw professional boundaries out the window. Still reeling from his wife’s death, he starts telling his patients exactly what he thinks they should do, regardless of ethics and consequences.
The show touches on grief, parenthood, friendship, and mental health. It balances sharp humor with emotional gut punches, exploring the messiness of trying to help others when you’re barely holding yourself together. Harrison Ford in particular shines as Paul, Jimmy’s blunt mentor, and the dynamic between the two is especially endearing.
If you need a refresh, the second season ended with Paul delivering a speech thanking everyone for their support as he navigates his Parkinson’s diagnosis. Jimmy also met up with Louis, the drunk driver responsible for his wife’s fatal car accident, and decided to give forgiveness a chance.
While it’s too early to speculate about Shrinking season 4, the third installment is likely to focus on moving forward. Jimmy and his daughter are in a better place, and the supporting cast also seems ready for personal growth.
There might even be romance sparks on the horizon. Cobie Smulders, who briefly appeared in a season 2 episode as a woman Jimmy had unexpected chemistry with, is set to return. Smulders and series lead Jason Segel previously starred together in popular sitcom How I Met Your Mother.
Whether or not that happens, we’ll have to wait and see. Season 3 episodes come out weekly on Apple TV, with the finale scheduled to drop in early April.
Are There Other Shows Like Shrinking?
If you love Shrinking, you might also enjoy Ted Lasso, also available on Apple TV+. Other similar series includes Scrubs, Cougar Town, Schitt’s Creek, The Good Place, Nobody Wants This, After Life, andDying for Sex.
Every map in ARC Raiders hides at least one Bastion, and while they’re easy to defeat, finding them can take some work. Bastions are slow, heavily armored ARC bots equipped with powerful miniguns capable of shredding shields in seconds. However, they’re easy to deal with once you know where to hit them and taking a Bastion bot out can reward you with Bastion Cells, ARC Powercells, Heavy Ammo, and other valuable loot. If you want to farm them efficiently or get the best loot, here are all the Bastion locations in ARC Raiders.
ARC Raiders: All Bastion Locations
Despite their firepower, Bastion bots in ARC Raiders are among the easier enemies to defeat if you target their weak points, like unarmored yellow leg joints and the rear canister that can be hit to stun them and deal massive damage. Moreover, you can use Blaze Grenades, Snap Blast Grenades, or deploy Deadline near the canister to quickly knock them down.
As we mentioned, every map in ARC Raiders has at least one Bastion spawn, although patrol routes can cause them to move around. Bastions appear on all maps, usually in wide open spaces, and you can typically hear a Bastion’s minigun from a distance. If you don’t spot one immediately at a spawn point, look around the surrounding area. Below are all the Bastion locations in ARC Raiders:
ARC Raiders Bastion Locations inDam Battlegrounds
On Dam Battlegrounds, Bastions can be found around Red Lakes Balcony and the wider lake area, as well as in the northern portion of the Hydroponics Dome Complex.
ARC Raiders Bastion Locations in Buried City
In Buried City, Bastions appear in Marano Park, usually along the edges of the trees, and in the clearing between Santa Maria House and Plaza Rosa.
ARC Raiders Bastion Locations in Spaceport
Spaceport has four known Bastion spawn points. These include the clearing near Control Tower A6, Container Storage and Vehicle Maintenance, the large field southwest of Rocket Assembly, the area around the Launch Towers, and the forested path northeast of Rocket Assembly.
ARC Raiders Bastion Locations in The Blue Gate
On The Blue Gate, Bastions are typically found in the car park just south of the Outer Gates near the Checkpoint. While they may wander in and out of underground areas, they generally stay close to the gate.
ARC Raiders Bastion Locations in Stella Montis
On Stella Montis, there is one known Bastion spawn in the northern section of the Loading Bay on the lower level.
Generally, Bastions patrol areas with ARC-protected resources and let out a loud screech before firing.
Michał Korta is an internationally recognised portrait and documentary photographer based in Poland. He studied photography and German literature and has worked professionally since the mid-2000s. Korta is known for his strong, nuanced portraits of creators, including writers, musicians and painters, alongside long-term documentary projects exploring identity, social context and the human experience across cultures. He has published multiple photobooks, including Balkan Playground, a nuanced journey through eight Balkan countries, and The Shadow Line, which examines human–animal relationships in an intuitive, subversive way. Both have been exhibited in major institutions.
His other projects span Europe, Central Asia, Israel, Africa and beyond. He has received numerous awards, with his images exhibited across Europe and featured in international publications. In addition to his photographic practice, Korta contributes to photography education through teaching and writing, and collaborates with cultural institutions, galleries and publishers.
What drew you to the world of photography?
I’m not entirely sure what drew me to photography. I think it was more a coincidence, or rather, a series of coincidences. But on a rational level, I was drawn to the closed form of photography. In a photograph, the world can appear complete, even perfect in its imperfections. The older I get, the more I appreciate those imperfections. I find it profound — the tension between chance and intention, imperfection and control. Photography, unlike many other mediums, allows this paradox to exist in a single frame: a frozen moment that is both completely shaped by the photographer and entirely subject to the unpredictability of life. That “closed form” is precisely what gives photography its power. Every detail and imperfection is codified and preserved, yet these imperfections aren’t flaws. Rather, they’re part of the authenticity and the texture of the reality captured.
Robert Frank’s work embodies this beautifully. His images are often raw, uneven, even casual at first glance, but within that apparent spontaneity there is an exactness of vision. Imperfection becomes a lens through which a deeper truth emerges — a social commentary, an emotional resonance. It’s as if the photograph itself embraces the chaos of life and arranges it into something coherent, something that can be revisited and reflected upon.
In this sense, my own path into photography mirrors the medium itself: a combination of chance and intention, randomness and structure. That duality, that balance of control and unpredictability, is central to why photography continues to captivate me.
Photo credit: Michał Korta
Your work is predominantly in black and white. Beyond the aesthetic, what does this choice allow you to express?
I work in both colour and black-and-white, but in recent years I’ve been increasingly drawn to black and white. Colour can be distracting; black and white simplifies the world, revealing only the grayscale and the power of illumination. Some surfaces reflect more light than others, human skin in particular, and I sometimes squint during a shoot to mentally strip away colour and better perceive the interplay of light and shadow.
I am a sun worshipper and deeply appreciate natural light. Even natural light can be modified; it can be a collaborator rather than just a given. In portrait photography, especially with today’s high-resolution cameras and advanced strobes, sheer brightness is no longer critical. Yet many young photographers confuse fully illuminated portraits with well-lit ones, producing bright, high-contrast images that don’t always use light effectively.
Lighting always has purpose, particularly in portraits. To sculpt a subject is not merely to place multiple light sources around them, which can conflict and dilute the effect. Light and shadow can be used creatively to emphasise form, define mood, and bring the subject to life. Mastering light and its direction, intensity, character, and interaction with surfaces requires observation, experimentation and patience.
You’ve photographed a diverse range of creatives, including musicians, painters, actors, and writers. What is it about fellow creators that compels you as a portrait photographer?
Knowing an actor or musician’s work doesn’t mean we truly know the person. It’s natural to admire their songs, paintings or performances, and meeting your idols can be exciting, but appreciation doesn’t automatically create a friendship. Sometimes connections happen when we share similar energy or worldviews, but that’s not guaranteed.
Creators are often people who take risks and aren’t afraid of failing. As the saying goes, “God loves a trier,” and this is a quality I deeply admire. Working with well-known individuals has its own challenges: their faces are familiar from magazines or social media, so the question becomes how to reveal something new, for instance, a hidden facet of their character or being. A good portrait, I believe, is a mixture of the sitter and the photographer. Ultimately, all cameras are the same; it’s the people on either side that make it unique.
A photoshoot is an exchange of energy. When we meet on the same level, we can inspire and elevate one another. It becomes a dynamic flow that can be greater than the sum of its parts.
Photo credit: Michał Korta
Your books, particularly Balkan Playground, have received critical acclaim. When you’re selecting images for a photobook, what criteria guides your choices?
When selecting images for a photobook, I focus on storytelling. I often use surreal moments drawn from reality, and I value understatement, leaving space for the viewer to interpret and fill in the blanks. Reality can be surprising — you just need to open yourself to it and wait.
The process of selecting and editing images is complex and demanding. I wouldn’t say I’m a master of it because there is always more to learn. Over time, I’ve learned to trust a few close friends and collaborators, as different perspectives can greatly enrich a project. From there, discussion begins, shaping the final narrative and helping the photobook find its voice.
You’ve written that “what is left unsaid speaks louder than what is clearly stated.” Has your relationship with silence and subtlety changed over the course of your career?
Of course, when I started, I wanted my pictures to scream, literally, and to hit the viewer like a punch in the face. Nowadays, I see that as just one tool among many. What matters most is using whatever serves the image’s purpose best, whether that’s silence or a strong statement. In today’s overflow of images, the quiet, subtle ones often have more impact than the obvious or loud ones.
What emotions do you feel when you capture a photograph that feels ‘perfect’ to you?
When I capture a photograph that feels ‘perfect,’ I feel like I’m learning something from it. It surprises me — the perfect imperfection. Today, with Photoshop and AI, we can manipulate everything, but real art often comes from leaving a margin open and from allowing reality to surprise you.
Sometimes I’ve been very happy with an image and thought it was perfect, only to find that over the years its effect fades, and I no longer connect with it. Meanwhile, imperfect images, ones that are slightly unsharp, crookedly cropped, or even with a blurred finger in the lens, often stay with me longer; they feel more authentic and natural.
Sometimes, you have to embrace the flaws. Beware what you wish for.
Photo credit: Michał Korta
Are there any specific themes or approaches you hope to explore more deeply in your work in 2026?
I always have several ongoing projects and countless imaginary ones in my head. Lately I’ve found myself daydreaming about selling all my equipment, cameras and lenses included, and stepping away from commercial photography entirely. With a single small camera and one fixed lens, I could dedicate myself to one personal project for the rest of my life. It probably won’t happen; I still have bills to pay, after all. But if I could do anything, that would be the dream: traveling for a year through Africa with just one fixed-lens camera. Perhaps this idea is already a kind of manifestation.
More realistically, in 2026 I hope to slow down, to see fewer images each day, and to resist the constant visual noise that surrounds us. I want to retreat into my own vision, to let it breathe and grow, and to continue perfecting a style of portraiture that is entirely my own. For me it’s less about producing and more about listening, noticing, and capturing what often goes unseen.
For years I’ve been making notes about photography, the philosophy of light and portraiture. In 2026 I’d love to begin shaping these reflections into a personal book. If there are publishers interested in thoughtful, reflective work on the craft and spirit of photography, I would be very curious to connect with them.
Considering all the lives you’ve observed and captured, what do you feel photography has ultimately taught you about being human?
I am still learning, but I often think of photography as a kind of wonderful university. It has taught me mindfulness, openness, attention to detail, sensitivity to light, and reflection on both myself as a human being and as a photographer. Sometimes, the moment I am fully focused on someone in the studio or on location matters more to me than the final image. For me, the process is more important than the result, even if the final image never existed. I am endlessly curious about people, both visually and spiritually.
I remember the first time I was at JFK Airport in New York: I felt like a little boy with his mouth agape, trying to take in everyone around him. So many faces, skin tones, ear shapes, pupils, hands, clothes, languages, even scents — it was overwhelming and exhilarating.
As a portrait photographer, I look at faces professionally, but that moment was a pure experience of human diversity, and it felt enlightening. I don’t know why, but I love working with people from different cultures and backgrounds. I often invite foreigners to my studio to talk, to hear their stories. I never stop wondering.
I am deeply grateful to photography for bringing me to this point, for opening my eyes and heart to the richness of humanity and for allowing me to keep learning, observing, and connecting every single day.
Schiaparelli’s Daniel Roseberry has become one of couture’s most established presences. Not because he’s been around forever, he hasn’t, but because so many of the people who were supposed to be here simply aren’t. With Giambattista Valli’s last minute cancellation and Giorgio Armani leaving us a few months back, Roseberry is what happens when the room thins out and someone keeps showing up strong.
The final say of the collection’s emotional center is all Roseberry’s, but the Sistine Chapel played a part, a big one too. “If you’ve been there, you know that the first thing you see isn’t the ceiling, but the walls, densely painted by an army of artists in the years before Michelangelo began his work in 1508. They’re decorated by ecclesiastical scenes: images meant to tell, to educate. But crane your neck skyward, and thought stops. Feeling begins,” the maison’s director pressed on. “He didn’t tell us what happened, but instead gave his audience permission on how to feel when they looked at art. It woke up the world. And 500 years later, it woke me up, too.”
Scorpions, snakes, birds, if it bites it’s in the collection. The ateliers layered feathers, lace, and tulle until each piece felt like it could crawl off the runway. Α nod to Elsa Schiaparelli’s lifelong obsession with animals, still alive in spikes, claws, and keyholes, though no lobster, or anything else, was harmed in the process. Think trompe-l’oeil effects, 3D feelings playing with depth and shadow, resin and crystals, structured volumes, fringe layers, horns born from the back ending inches over the head, and 25,000 silk thread feathers paired with 4000 hours of work just for one bustier.
The collection had me hooked from start to finish, but there were three looks that really made me stare, eyes glued and all. Look no. 6 was the first one. A black wool crepe bustier dress, featuring a front satin-stitch trick that makes a crocodile tail appear. And if the front wasn’t enough, the back steals the show with a cloud of white tulle dotted with delicate black silk mimosas. And seven looks later, no. 14 came, and it went by the name “Isabella Blowfish”. A structured skirt suit layered in tulle and organza, spikes at the top and crystals all over that added just the right shadowing. A little tip of the hat to Isabella Blow and her wonderfully eccentric taste. My final stare went to no. 17, a skirt and a jacket. To be clear, a reptilian-looking jacket with two curved horns emerging from the breasts, drenched in pearls and sparkling bullion lace, paired with a translucent, gradient skirt that carried everything the jacket did, minus the horns. Add a hint of turquoise, or Elsa’s “sleeping blue”, her second signature color, first introduced in 1940. Should I ever reincarnate as some kind of creature, I’m coming back as this one.
In the end, it’s the wildness and the precision, the claws and the crystals, that make this Schiaparelli show feel alive. You can see the hand of the ateliers everywhere, but you can also see Daniel Roseberry playing with tradition, and letting the collection breathe in its own strange glory. Some looks bite, some fly, some just make you stare, sometimes at your own feelings. And with that, the Sistine Chapel did its job. Someone book Roseberry a trip to Sagrestia Nuova next.
“And I was dreaming, dreaming, about movie stars, dreaming about everything beautiful in the world. My mother said, you are a dreamer. You always dream, dream, dream, about stupid things. I was always so attracted to magazines, to films. I had a sister and she took me for the first time to see some films, and to me it was the dream of my life to see those beautiful ladies of the silverscreen. You know for me, a young guy of thirteen, to see this sort of beauty… I think, from that moment, I decided I wanted to create clothes for ladies.” Valentino Garavani’s voice, which we lost a few days before the show, was the one to open it.
Who would’ve thought, back in the 1940s, when Valentino’s dresses were still just an idea in the head of a 13-year-old boy, that those silverscreen stars would one day become iPhone stars, dressed in Valentino red and awkwardly peeking through a hole in the wall, all in the name of the maison’s craftsmanship, 64 creative years later? About those holes… ever heard of a Kaiserpanorama? Don’t worry if you haven’t, it’s a late 1800s invention. Michele built intricate wooden orbs with “windows” for the guests’ eyes all around, the model standing in the center. Then the lights went down, the model shifted behind another hole, and suddenly you had a new one to peek at. You had no choice but to slow down and actually look. No rushing, no distractions, just a moment to lean in and appreciate like a polite little spy.
And what would a couture spy see at an Alessandro Michele for Valentino Couture show, you ask? To start, Valentino rosso, 1920s feathers on the head, a mythic queen’s crown, 1940s Old Hollywood glam, Medieval sculptural shapes, 1980s shoulder pads at full drama, sequins flirting with sheerness, sheerness flirting with volumes, volumes flirting with drapes. Basically, everything bold you can imagine, and then some. Fashion really does still draw from films.
People argue that Michele’s work doesn’t look like Valentino’s. Of course it doesn’t. If it did, fashion’s Last Emperor wouldn’t be the last one. Heritage is great, nostalgia is fun, stories are lovely, but a maison can’t be frozen in time. Respect it, love it, take notes, then let it breathe. The world moves, fashion moves, and after 2025, it’s pretty clear that creative directors move too. Here’s to new talent honoring the past, and the familiar ones finding the right way forward. A storied house grows with its people, not just its seams.
“Today, Valentino’s absence is real, tangible. It tears open a deep and painful void. Nevertheless, his presence is still warmly felt.” […] “His passing does not stop the movement he set in motion. Rather, it calls on us to live up to what remains. And we continue to work within this space: not to fill an absence, but to preserve it. Only by accepting such a void, with no intention to fill it, can Valentino’s legacy remain what has always been: an idea of beauty conceived as a noble form of responsibility toward time, bodies and the world we are given to cross.”
The cocaine-caked, boozed-soaked hamster wheel of rock laughs mirthlessly at those who can’t keep up with its constant rotations. Gig. Party. Repeat is the deliciously enticing recipe that can turn into a destabilising prison sentence and knock a mere mortal into the deep weeds.
After touring for their debut Fear Is a Funny Thing, Now Smile Like a Big Boy, Belgian speedmetal quartet Ronker were ready to write about their experiences on the knife-edge of their rock and roll dream. Ecstatically received live show (with the revved-up, scissor-kicking energy of The Hives in their prime) and a Hard Days Night sense of mischief (see the synchronised dance moves in the gym kink video for No Sweat) are one thing. The fading out of another reality is another. “We’re in our thirties and all our friends are having kids and buying houses,” says hound-dog-moustached leader Jasper De Petter over Zoom. “We missed our life – because we did everything for rock and roll.”
The mirror had two faces: sex, drugs and rock and roll. But also overwhelm, exhaustion and burnout. Both were funhouse distortions. Recorded almost live, the Belgian band’s second album Respect the Hustle, I Won’t Be Your Dog Forever is a wild and visceral examination of those dualities. Written over 8 months in between playing 40 shows and recorded relatively quickly, it’s an album that attacks you with vigilant chords, hysterical delivery, and street poetry that cuts to the quick. “They say rock and roll’s a lifestyle…I’m a slut for the game,” De Petter sings in his hair-standing-up-on-the-ends-of-your-arms bark on the joyride thrash of sort of title track ‘Respect the Hustle’, while on the My Chemical Romance-esque pelt ‘Tall Stories’ he shrieks on burning out “like a fast flame.” There’s a manic, fevered energy to the songs and a little bit of vaudevillian mischief evidenced in the videos for ‘Limelighter’ and ‘No Sweat’, playing on the metaphors of music biz as circus and gym, respectively. Let’s get physical…
“The first half of the album is this beating heart, rock and roll monster. Like ‘I want to taste it all, let’s go!,'” he says. The hideous hustle was real but going scorched earth was only half the tale. “It’s really praising this hedonistic lifestyle,” says De Petter, “and the second half is distancing yourself from it. Like my body can’t go on like this and my mental state is deteriorating.”
The band tapped into this side by writing these songs sober. “We put the brakes on,” he says. “We weren’t drinking. We weren’t doing any narcotics. We’d get in a room, talk and play these ‘songy’ tunes. A different kind of aggression came up. It’s more like a frustration.”
Recent single, the bare boned Snuff which could be from a musical set in hell, is the most raw of these ‘songy’ tunes. “The bottle is hard to ignore,” De Petter sings, where the morning after beer fear has become the clarity of a naked desperation. While the Kyuss-meets-Bloc Party breakneck descent of ‘Disco Dust’ is even balder in its assessments that: “addiction doesn’t discriminate…addiction it doesn’t give a fuck.” It’s a cold slap in the face after the ratatat of what’s come before.
Reality and fiction blur, as the band conceptualised a soft narrative for the album, in the style of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars and Jesus Christ Superstar. “You have this Messiah type of figure at the centre,” explains De Petter, “and at the end of the story they realise ‘the joke’s on me.'”
But the joke’s definitely not on Ronker. Respect the Hustle, I Won’t Be Your Dog Forever is electrifying and raw, alive with spiked intensity. The cinematic quality is visible, not over-egged and it feels like a modern classic. Reality dipped in the hazy honey of a fiction.
After intense gigging and recording, De Petter says the making of it brought the band closer together. “I think we know what our band’s about now,” he says. “We talked a lot while we were making music. There was some health stuff going on for family members of the band. And it became a safe space for us.”
The morning of the first show of the new era, De Petter admits it’s “a little bit terrifying” to be playing the new songs for a crowd. But, he says “I think it’ll be fun,” and we can’t imagine it being anything but that.
Map crypto to familiar buckets: store of value, cash/cash-like, growth tech, yield/credit, commodities, venture, collectibles, and infrastructure.
Bitcoin = “digital gold.” Low long-term correlation to equities (~0.2–0.3, regime-dependent), hard-capped supply, halving cycles. Volatile, yes. But scarcity is the thesis.
Stablecoins and tokenized T‑Bills = cash equivalents/FX. Think money-market rails with 24/7 settlement. What if liquidity moved at internet speed?
Ethereum and major Layer 1s = software platforms. Like owning an OS with fees (gas) tied to usage. Narrative is network effects, not cash flow certainty.
ETH gas/staking = commodity + yield. Staking resembles a variable “dividend” with slashing/tech risks. Not risk-free. Not a bond.
DeFi lending = high-yield credit without intermediaries. Smart contract risk replaces bank risk. Would you trust code over a balance sheet?
NFTs = art/IP/collectibles. Illiquid. Narrative-driven. Treat as passion capital.
Small-cap tokens = venture/EM beta. Big upside. Big drawdowns.
Picks-and-shovels = exchanges, custodians, miners (equities). Cleaner governance, clearer audits. Environmental footprint? Improving with renewables and methane capture, but still debated.
Which crypto categories matter for utility over hype?
Utility lives where crypto reduces friction: stablecoins, Bitcoin, smart-contract platforms, tokenized real‑world assets, and core DeFi rails. Many users start with USDT and sometimes exchange usdt to usdc to access a fully-backed, regulated stablecoin, reducing issuer risk while keeping funds ready for payments, DeFi, or staking.
Need 24/7 dollars that move at email speed? Stablecoins settle in minutes and already move trillions monthly. Bitcoin offers censorship-resistant collateral, deep liquidity, and derivative markets, while Ethereum and PoS peers (plus rollups) enable contracts, identity, and compliance tooling—fast and programmable, but exposed to smart-contract and governance risks.
Looking for yield without exotic tokens? Tokenized T‑Bills and money‑market funds bring on‑chain cash management, with KYC and custody trade‑offs. Need market plumbing? DeFi AMMs, lending, and on‑chain oracles provide transparent price discovery, though liquidation and oracle risk remain.
Cross‑border remittances and NGO aid? Stablecoins deliver inclusion and speed, if local laws allow. Freedom to move value. Responsibility to manage risk.
What does Bitcoin’s store-of-value and payments role mean for allocation?
Treat Bitcoin primarily as a high-volatility store‑of‑value sleeve—1–3% core—with only a small, optional 0–1% “payments optionality” overlay. Not a payments bet. Not yet.
Why? Today’s adoption is “digital gold”: 21 million supply cap, halving-driven scarcity, deep liquidity via spot ETFs, and improving (but variable) correlations to gold and risk assets. Looking for an inflation hedge with equity‑like drawdowns? Size it like venture‑tier gold.
Payments is upside, not baseline. On‑chain settlement remains slow and fee‑sensitive; Lightning Network and other Layer‑2 rails are growing but unproven at global scale. Curious about remittances and cross‑border independence? Keep it small until throughput, security, and UX harden.
Risk first: 60–80% peak‑to‑trough drawdowns happen; rebalance with bands (e.g., 25–50% drift) and stress test against liquidity crunches. Track Sharpe, rolling correlations, and ETF flows.
ESG matters: mining is shifting toward renewables, waste‑heat reuse, and methane abatement, but scrutiny persists. Comfortable with that trajectory? Allocate. If not, keep exposure minimal or indirect.
How do Ethereum, Solana, and Layer-2 ecosystems create value?
Value accrues by selling scarce blockspace and compounding network effects into fees, staking returns, and app-driven demand for ETH and SOL.
Why does blockspace matter? Every DeFi trade, NFT mint, or on-chain game buys it. Ethereum converts demand into fee revenue and token scarcity via EIP-1559 burns; net issuance can turn deflationary when activity spikes. Stakers (or via Lido) earn yield from priority fees and MEV—akin to a dividend with variable cash flows and tech risk.
Layer-2s—Arbitrum, Optimism, Base, zkSync, Polygon zkEVM—scale Ethereum with rollups. They cut gas costs, widen the funnel, and remit value back through ETH used for security and data availability. Shared security, EVM composability, OP Stack flywheels—network effects in action.
Solana bets on high throughput and fast finality. Lower fees, monolithic design, growing DeFi/NFT/consumer apps. But outages happened; concentration risk exists.
Environmental angle? Ethereum’s proof-of-stake slashed energy use ~99%. Solana’s emissions are offset programs. Freedom to build. Freedom to exit. Still, smart-contract risk, sequencer centralization, and regulatory uncertainty remain.
Where do stablecoins and DeFi generate real cash-like utility in crypto?
Stablecoins already deliver cash-like utility: 24/7 dollars and instant, low-cost settlement at global scale.
Need dollars on a Sunday? Want to pay a supplier in minutes, not days? Stablecoins like USDC and USDT move trillions annually on-chain, enabling cross-border payroll, B2B settlement, and remittances often under 1% fees. In inflation-hit markets, self-custodied dollars mean independence from local currency risk.
DeFi turns that liquidity into functional money markets. Aave and Compound offer overcollateralized lending for working capital and treasury management. Curve and Uniswap enable tight-spread stable swaps—think on-chain FX. MakerDAO channels reserves into short-duration Treasuries, passing yield via the DAI Savings Rate, while tokenized T-bill products (e.g., OUSG, USDY, BUIDL) provide transparent, cash-like yield with on-chain settlement.
Honest risks: depegs (see USDC–SVB), reserve opacity, blacklisting, smart-contract exploits, and liquidity vanishing in stress. Regulation is evolving. Due diligence is non-negotiable.
Which crypto infrastructure and middleware have durable moats?
Durable moats are rare; they cluster where network effects, compliance, and deep integrations meet.
Where are they strongest? Oracles (Chainlink) with multi-chain integrations and high-stakes SLAs. Indexing (The Graph) embedded across dApps. Institutional custody and on/off-ramps (Coinbase, Anchorage, Fireblocks) where licenses, bank rails, and audits create switching costs. Liquidity-based staking middleware (Lido) locking user habits and integrations. Developer platforms (Infura, Alchemy) powering wallets like MetaMask. Sequencing/MEV infrastructure (Flashbots) with builder-relay ecosystems. Data availability layers (Celestia) if rollup adoption compounds. Feels centralized? That’s the trade-off for reliability and compliance.
What about L2 rollups? Moats hinge on sequencer neutrality, liquidity, and app distribution—watch Optimism’s Superchain and Arbitrum’s ecosystem grants. Bridges (Wormhole, LayerZero) win if they secure the most flows and partners.
Risks? Open-source commoditization, regulator dependence, cloud outages, MEV centralization. Opportunity? Own the picks-and-shovels. Cleaner footprints via proof-of-stake and efficient data centers. Want independence from single vendors? Favor multi-client, multi-cloud infra and credibly neutral governance.
How should you value crypto by use case, not just price action?
Value crypto by what it does and what it earns, not just what it trades at.
What problem is solved, for whom, and at what unit cost? For “digital gold” (Bitcoin), test durability: hash rate, security spend, holder distribution, and energy mix. For “programmable money” (Ethereum, Solana), examine cash flows: protocol revenue (gas/fees), net issuance after burns (EIP‑1559), staking yields after inflation, and Layer‑2 take rates. For DeFi, demand real economics: fee share to tokenholders, TVL stability vs “mercenary” liquidity, MEV capture, default/loss history. For oracles (Chainlink), price the data economy: paying integrations, update frequency, and margins. For payments and remittances, compare all‑in costs and settlement speed to Visa or SWIFT. For storage (Filecoin/Arweave), benchmark $/TB, durability, and enterprise uptake.
Ask: are users real? Active addresses, retained cohorts, developer activity. Beware token dilution, governance capture, wash trading, and regulatory overhang. Freedom is utility: lower fees, open access, censorship resistance. Environmental? Prefer miners using stranded or renewable energy; measure, don’t assume.
Relocating to California is a major life decision, and choosing the right city can shape your finances, career, and overall happiness for years. In 2026, many people are rethinking what “best” really means. Instead of chasing famous cities, smart relocators are looking for places that offer balance. The goal is not perfection. It is finding a city where daily life feels manageable and rewarding at the same time.
What Most People Need When They Relocate
When people move to California, they usually face the same challenges. Housing costs feel overwhelming. Commute times can eat into personal life. Job security matters more than scenery once the move is complete. A good place to live solves these problems instead of adding new ones.
The best cities are those where income aligns better with expenses, neighborhoods are clearly defined, and newcomers can settle in without constant financial stress. This matters even more in 2026, as people are prioritizing stability and quality of life over status.
Why San Diego Stands Out Overall
San Diego is often considered the best place to live because it performs well across many important areas without extreme tradeoffs. The job market is diverse, with opportunities in healthcare, biotech, education, tourism, defense, and professional services. This variety helps people who relocate without a guaranteed role or those who may want flexibility in the future.
The city is also easier to navigate compared to larger metros. Neighborhoods feel distinct, and it is possible to choose an area that fits your lifestyle rather than forcing yourself into one expensive zone. While housing is not cheap, it feels more predictable. Many newcomers find success by renting first, exploring inland neighborhoods, and avoiding rushed decisions. This approach often leads to better long-term satisfaction.
Lifestyle Matters More Than You Expect
One reason San Diego works well for relocators is how it supports everyday life. Good weather, outdoor access, and a calmer pace make it easier to build routines that reduce stress. This is especially helpful when you are new and trying to create a sense of home.
Unlike cities where entertainment always costs money, San Diego offers simple ways to enjoy free time. Walkable areas, parks, beaches, and community events help newcomers meet people without pressure. These details may seem small, but they make a big difference when adjusting to a new city.
Comparing Other Popular Relocation Options
Not everyone will find San Diego to be the perfect fit. Sacramento appeals to people who want more space and a realistic path to homeownership. It works well for those in government, healthcare, logistics, and education, and it often provides lower monthly pressure on household budgets.
Irvine attracts families and professionals who value structure, safety, and strong schools. It is well planned and consistent, which helps people who want predictability. The tradeoff is cost, but smaller homes or longer-term rentals can make it workable.
San Jose fits people focused on career acceleration, especially in tech. The income potential is high, but so are expenses. Relocators here usually need a clear financial plan and flexibility with housing choices.
How to Relocate With Confidence
A successful move starts with setting clear limits before you arrive. Decide on a maximum housing budget that includes utilities and transportation. Be honest about commute tolerance, because traffic affects quality of life more than most people expect. Visit neighborhoods during regular weekdays to see how they really function.
Many people find it helpful to secure short-term housing first. This gives you time to explore and prevents costly mistakes. Planning ahead turns a stressful move into a controlled transition.
The idea of Living In California often comes with high expectations, but the reality depends on preparation and location choice. In 2026, San Diego remains the best overall place to live for most people because it balances opportunity, lifestyle, and livability. With realistic planning and the right city, relocating can become a fresh start instead of a financial burden.
Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever are back with a new song, their first new music since 2022’s Endless Rooms. The glimmering ‘Sunburned in London’ arrives with a video shot at Melbourne’s Northcote Theatre, featuring Stella Donnelly, Sophie Ozard, and Julia Wallace on backing vocals and keys. Check it out below.
“As a band, we have always made songs about cities,” the band’s Tom Russo said in a statement. “I was thinking about sensory overload and relentless beauty, and the creeping feeling in the streets that the party’s winding up and the lights are about to come on.”
Ever prone to alliteration, I considered using “mildest” as the first superlative in the title of this 2026 Grammys recap, but let’s face it: Mildness is a defining quality of music’s biggest night, not a momentary one. To sit through eight hours of the Recording Academy handing out awards (including the pre-telecast Premiere ceremony, where the majority of the awards are given), you have to be either contractually obligated, financially invested, or nominated, and for those of us who have to pull an all-nighter in order to do so, it is especially hard not to lose interest. What’s the point of singling out the blandest parts of a ceremony – Trevor Noah’s insufferable jokes, Pharrell’s corny advice, Billie Eilish snagging a trophy two years after her last album was released, an Alex Warren performance that somehow made you miss Benson Boone – whose aftertaste is normally a resounding “Meh”?
What, you may add, is the point in caring about any of it? The Grammys have always skirted the line between celebratory and self-congratulatory, and veering too far to the wrong side has a way of undercutting their occasional significance. Sabrina Carpenter, who walked away empty-handed despite proving that she should be on the performers list every year, got a chuckle out of me when she asked everyone looking for a little validation to stand up during ‘Manchild’. (Unlike Noah, she understands that a good roast should always reflect back on one’s own frailty.) Whether in a genuine attempt to recognise excellence in music, correct past wrongs, or stay relevant, however, the Recording Academy gets some things right. And sometimes, when it does, you get the sense that it’s worth the spectacle.
This feeling was ignited in me early on, when the Cure won their first Grammy. And then when FKA twigs pulled a surprise win in a male-dominated Best Dance/Electronic Album field, even though presenter Darren Criss hilariously butchered the pronunciation of EUSEXUA. And then when Turnstile, sincere as ever, accepted their awards. But there was always room for the Grammys to mess up in the main ceremony. Yet despite the inevitable messiness, there was something genuine that reverberated through the pageantry of it all, a reminder that the people behind today’s most popular recordings are more important than celebrities breaking records.
Let’s sort out the most bizarre, chaotic, and commendable parts of the night, shall we? (Sorry, Rap Album of the Year GNX just isn’t that wordplay-friendly.) I’ll let you draw the line wherever you want.
First-Time Winners the Cure, Kehlani, Turnstile, and… His Holiness the Dalai Lama
This year’s first-time winners were a weird, cross-generational mix that included the Cure, Kehlani, Turnstile, Clipse, FKA twigs, and Tyler Childers. Rufus Wainwright, accepting the Dalai Lama’s award for Best Audio Book, Narration, and Storytelling, offered one of the most quotable lines of the night: “Obviously, I’m not the Dalai Lama.” I’ll be using it next time I’m about to give someone advice.
We all had the same thought when Justin Bieber stepped onto the stage: Why is he only wearing boxers and socks? The more the stripped-down performance dragged on, the more I was convinced there was a think piece there about the disarming intimacy of it all, and I don’t even care for ‘Yukon’. As the camera shifted between him and his wife, it was somehow refreshingly unceremonious, definitely earnest, even raw. Everything happening at the Grammys is bogged down by the fact that it’s happening at the Grammys, somewhere called the Crypto.com arena, but this seemed to exist outside of that realm. We were all stunned there for a little bit.
The Best New Artist Whirlwind
The Grammys are not a fast-moving event, a fact sneakily underlined by how many of the performances were set in the liminal spaces of transportation: airport terminals, parking lots, gas stations. But that Best New Artist medley was a lot to digest at once, and the quality plummeted quickly. The Marías delivered a touching, oh-so-blue performance that had Billie Eilish loudly cheering (her Hit Me Hard and Soft is no doubt aesthetically aligned), Addison Rae’s magnetic appearance on the back of a truck got Drag Race fans typing, the transition to Katseye was smooth, Leon Thomas was solid – but the overbearing ballads of Alex Warren and Lola Young (‘Messy’ did not need to be stripped down), not to mention sombr’s hamfisted disco, were too much too handle. Thankfully, they were offset by the effortlessly breezy Olivia Dean, ultimately a safe and deserving recipient of the award.
Lola Young, Duh
“I very much relate to this song,” Charli XCX said when announcing Lola Young’s ‘Messy’ as the winner of Best Pop Solo Performance. It would be one of the biggest surprises had the song not received a standing ovation earlier, an example of how charming messiness can be.
The Grammys are often chaotic bad, but Tyler, the Creator’s performance – the best of the night – was on the other end of the spectrum. His medley of ‘Thought I Was Dead’, ‘Like Him’, and ‘Sugar on My Tongue’ was seamless and electrifying, as much proof of his magnetism as the aesthetic sensibilities that made him the inaugural Best Album Cover winner. That much was expected, but seeing him blow up the building and collapse on the floor was hair-raising entertainment.
Cher’s Surprise Appearance
The only thing more iconic than Joni Mitchell’s “Oh, I won?” last night was Cher showing up, offering some words of wisdom, then walking off before announcing Record of the Year. After Noah called her back, she said the winner was Luther Vandross, whom Kendrick Lamar sampled on the winning ‘Luther’. Her silliness near the event’s supposed climax was enlightening. If they’d let her ramble for a few more minutes without revealing the winner, how many of us would notice they’d skipped a category?
A certain section of the internet may have been upset that a hardcore band won in a Best Metal Category featuring Spiritbox, Sleep Token, and Ghost, while another reignited debates around Turnstile’s hardcore status. But to the average viewer, the more immediate takeaway was that this year’s Grammys were particularly guitar-forward. I mean, Bruno Mars didn’t have to shred on the guitar while performing ‘APT.’, but it ended up feeling like an apt way to kick off a ceremony that also included a rocked-out version of ‘Abracadabra’ featuring drummer Josh Freese. (Maybe they felt the need to up the ante after last year’s just-fine ‘Die With a Smile’.) Lady Gaga’s extravagant performance was not only a full-circle moment after the song’s music video premiered during the 2025 Grammys, but a much-needed jolt of energy after Jelly Roll’s depressing win.
The Sprawling In Memoriam Segment
Although weirdly segmented by genre and chaotic in its own way, the sprawling In Memoriam segment got pretty much everything right. Post Malone’s vibrato stunned during his Ozzy tribute alongside Slash, Duff McKagan, Chad Smith, and Andrew Watt, while Lauryn Hill’s first Grammys appearance since 1999 did not disappoint – paying tribute to D’Angelo and Roberta Flack, it soared through several moods before rejoicing in Fugees’ take on ‘Killing Me Softly’.
“ICE OUT” and Bad Bunny’s AOTY
From Justin Bieber to Joni Mitchell, numerous artists wore “ICE OUT” pins while appearing onstage, culminating in Bad Bunny’s declaration as he accepted the Album of the Year trophy. Grammy voters sometimes surprise us by making the correct choice for the most coveted award, but rarely does it carry such a strong sense of urgency and weight, amplifying a message that was reiterated in unambiguous and varyingly personal terms throughout the ceremony – from Billie Eilish’s “No one is illegal on stolen land” to Olivia Dean’s “I’m a product of bravery.” For Bunny, bravery looked like soaking in the gravity of the moment and getting the words out as lovingly as he could: “We’re not savages. We’re not animals. We’re not aliens. We are humans, and we are Americans.” It looked like speaking in his native tongue before dedicating his award “to all the people that had to leave their homeland, their country, to follow their dreams.” As the coffee wore off and the sun was coming up, his conviction was the only thing keeping my heart pounding.
