I think you’re conflating 'conciseness' with 'correctness.' The 'clutter' you're describing in Swift like, having to explicitly define an Enum instead of using a vertical bar |, is exactly what makes it more robust than TS for large-scale systems.
In TypeScript a union like string | number is structural and convenient, but it lacks semantic meaning. In Swift, by defining an Enum, you give those states a name and a purpose. This forces you to handle cases exhaustively and intentionally. When you're dealing with a massive codebase 'easy' type bridging is often how you end up back in 'id' or 'any' hell. Swift’s compiler yelling at you is usually it trying to tell you that your logic is too ambiguous to be safely compiled which, in a safety first language, is the compiler doing its job.
I mean there should be _some_ sugar in a language like swift, no? It has sugar in many parts of the language, being able to define a simple type union should not require custom declaration of every forwarding accessor, a protocol, an enum, bridging back and forth between them, etc.
It would be one thing to say that the vertical bar is a shortcut for these more exhaustive constructs (setting aside whether these constructs are actually exhaustive - they're not really for the purposes they're used for in practice), but as it is right now, you have no bar! If it were simple and easy to use you'd have enums dictate the state of every app which, as any app developer knows, is not how its currently done! Swift enums are so hard to use you have just a mess of optionals on view state instead of how it should formally be done, where almost every non-trivial view has a single state that's an enum of all possible configurations of valid states.
Indeed, if you put in a ton of effort to try and go down this route defining views "properly" with something like Swift TCA, you're not going to be able to get there even if you break up your app into 40 different targets because incremental recompilation will take a few minutes for something as simple as a color change.
I think we are talking past each other because we are optimizing for different domains.
You seem to want the ergonomics of a structural type system like TypeScript where data shapes are fluid but explicitly unsound [1]. In that paradigm requiring a named Enum feels like clutter because it forces you to pause and define a relationship that you just want to infer.
But Swift is a nominal static language designed for long lived binary compiled applications [2]. In this context that clutter is actually architectural definition. The friction is a feature not a bug because it discourages passing around anonymous bags of data and forces you to model what that data represents.
Swift actually has plenty of sugar but it puts it in places that don't compromise static analysis. It is designed to be expressive without being loose.
Complaining that Swift doesn't handle anonymous unions as easily as TS is like complaining that a tank handles worse than an F1 car. It is true but the tank is built to survive a direct hit whereas the F1 car trades that safety for raw speed.
I agree that you should evaluate languages in their domains. At the end of the day, Swift is mainly used for systems and iOS apps. In this, it is inadequate, as you can tell by, again, most apps not using the type system to enumerate valid views but instead (because enums and union types more broadly are so clunky to use!) masses of uncoupled types in their views, allowing for many, many implicitly invalid states.
SwiftUI is almost certainly the biggest application of Swift; even if we relax it to just iOS applications you'll see the same issues appear with invalid state combinations.
This is just cope. Swift's compiler doesn't choke because your logic is too ambiguous, it chokes because it's simply too slow at inferring types in certain cases, including a very common case where you write a normal Swift UI view. There is nothing ambiguous about that.
Secondly, I'm not sure why you think the mountains of boilerplate to replace | leads to semantic meaning. The type identifier itself is sufficient.
| is a massive footgun because it's usually exclusive in practice and occasionally silently inclusive. Having it in a language is a mistake, even if it superficially seems to make things easier, just like e.g. null.
I know it might sound cliche but walking is an easy habit to start and keep up with. I tend to walk when I get stuck on a problem and try to distract my mind with something else. Usually this turns into my subconscious working through the problem until I get an idea to try out.
The health benefits are very nice too if you’re just starting out. There are diminishing returns as your body gets used to it.
15 minutes in the morning/afternoon is my usually habit while at work. But on particularly tough days or just ones with nice weather I’d go for much longer walks.
It’s nice to explore the spaces around you when on these walks. You’ll end up discovering more of your surroundings than you’d ever expect. One nice benefit I’ve found is that I can do a 35ish minute walk to the movie theater I’d normally drive to. Doing this lets me just go see a movie on a whim, eat at one of the many restaurants near it. Maybe get a little drunk and be able to walk off a meal/buzz on the way back. I’ve had many epiphanies in this state of mind. You’ll just be a more relaxed individual if you adopted this.
I think you might be mistaken on the height of the card, if you look at the ports they are mini-DP on a low profile bracket. The picture also states that it includes both types of brackets.
Great catch, Serve The Home has a stacked picture of the two cards and they are indeed both low profile https://www.servethehome.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/NVID.... If your SFF box/1u server has a 2-thick NIC slot it may well be great for that use case then!
While not 100% what you were used to downloaded, I think you should be able to use these ISO’s for you needs.
You’ll need to setup everything up from scratch, luckily it’s not too much. I’d suggest capturing the post configured state of the machine and save it so you can reuse as needed.
that's exactly the thing I'm trying to avoid. since I really don't need windows very often I prefer to change win-vms like underpants (allowing me to deactivate defender/winupdates fearless) and would not like to spend hours for setting up win from scratch. I had to set up win11 for a friend a few days ago and - let me tell you - that experience sucked hard
Thank you for this suggestion. Here’s what Mr. Gippity came up with: *Title: The Loops of Eternity*
In the heart of a Gödel-type universe, the Eternal Voyager drifted along its predestined closed timelike curve, a path that looped through space and time. Captain Alyssa Raines stared out at the swirling axially symmetric stars, her reflection caught in the reinforced glass. For as long as she could remember, she had lived this voyage, though memory itself was a fickle thing here.
Time aboard the Voyager was peculiar. Every cycle through the curve, entropy reset itself. Memories, once etched into her mind, dissolved at the journey's endpoint, leaving only fragments. She wrote notes obsessively in a battered journal, hoping to tether herself to some semblance of continuity. Yet, each "new" cycle, she found the same journal waiting, her handwriting foreign, the pages detailing lives she did not remember living.
The ship itself obeyed the laws of quantum mechanics in this bizarre space. Energy levels within the Voyager spontaneously discretized, ensuring that after each loop, all systems—including Alyssa herself—reset to their initial state. It was as if the universe conspired to erase the ship’s passage, preserving the self-consistency of history.
Yet Alyssa began to suspect something was different this time. She had found a sketch in her journal—an intricate design of a watch. It was labeled "the clock outside time." She didn't recall drawing it, but the annotations intrigued her: “To break free, entropy must not reverse.”
Determined, she poured herself into constructing the clock. Using the ship's limited resources, she crafted a device meant to measure time independent of the curve. If her hypothesis was correct, the clock would retain its state even after the loop's reset. It was a desperate hope to escape the recursive prison.
As the ship neared the curve's maximal entropy point—a moment she called "the entropy mirror"—the clock’s hands trembled. For the first time, Alyssa felt something unusual: a visceral sense of causality breaking apart. The clock ticked steadily as the Voyager looped. And when the curve closed, the clock did not reset.
Alyssa awoke in her cabin. The journal was still there, her memories still fragmented. But the clock was ticking. It was no longer bound by the curve.
She realized the truth: if she could detach herself from the curve's entropic cycle, she could chart a path out of this endless loop. But as she stared at the clock, another thought struck her—a chilling possibility. What if breaking free meant unraveling the ship, herself, and the delicate balance of this universe?
Would she risk the fabric of existence for freedom? Or was she merely another iteration of herself, destined to face the same question, time and time again?
---
Alyssa decided to test the clock further. She placed it next to the ship’s chronometers and watched their synchronization fail. The Voyager’s clocks dutifully reset as the loop neared its close, but her device ticked on, untouched by the curve’s bizarre physics.
“This isn’t just a clock,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s an anchor.”
For weeks—or what she perceived as weeks—she studied the ship’s systems, using the clock to track the curve’s progress. The Voyager was designed to be self-sustaining, powered by the same quantum mechanics that bound it to the loop. But Alyssa discovered a flaw: a subtle energy fluctuation near the engine core. It was faint, like a whisper of resistance against the curve’s grip.
She theorized that if she amplified this anomaly, she could destabilize the ship’s entanglement with the curve. The ship might escape. But the consequences were unknowable. What happened to matter and entropy outside the loop’s boundaries? Would the ship be torn apart? Would she cease to exist, or would she find herself in a world where time flowed freely?
Her journal, with its fragmented entries and cryptic diagrams, offered no answers. But one entry stood out, written in bold, shaky letters:
"If you’re reading this, you’ve made it further than I ever did. Trust the clock. Trust yourself."”
Alyssa clutched the journal to her chest, her heartbeat echoing in the silent cabin. “I’ve tried this before,” she murmured. “But this time, it’s different. The clock proves it.”
She worked tirelessly, modifying the engine core to channel the energy fluctuation. She rerouted quantum stabilizers, recalibrated entropic dampeners, and rewired the naviga tion array. Each adjustment brought the ship closer to instability, the hum of the engines growing erratic.
As the loop approached its endpoint, the Voyager shuddered violently. Alyssa strapped herself into the captain’s chair, the clock clutched in her hand. “If this fails,” she said to no one, “I won’t remember. But if it works…” She couldn’t finish the thought.
The engines roared. The ship’s lights flickered. The clock ticked faster, its hands spinning wildly. A deafening crack reverberated through the Voyager as reality itself seemed to fracture.
And then…
Silence.
---
Alyssa opened her eyes to find herself floating in a void. The ship was gone, the stars replaced by an endless expanse of swirling light. The clock lay in her hand, its hands still, yet glowing faintly.
A voice echoed through the void, neither male nor female, yet familiar. “You have broken the loop.”
“Who are you?” Alyssa asked, her voice shaking.
“I am the possibility you created, the sum of all your choices. You have untethered yourself from the curve, but at great cost.”
“What happens now?” she whispered.
The light around her coalesced into a single point, growing brighter. “You may step into the unknown or return to the loop. Choose.”
Alyssa hesitated, the weight of countless lifetimes pressing down on her. She looked at the clock, its faint glow a reminder of her defiance. “I’ve spent eternity trapped in the same cycle,” she said. “I’ll take the unknown.”
The light enveloped her, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, Alyssa felt truly free. Where she emerged, she did not know. But she carried with her the knowledge that she had broken free of eternity’s loop—and that, for now, was enough.
In TypeScript a union like string | number is structural and convenient, but it lacks semantic meaning. In Swift, by defining an Enum, you give those states a name and a purpose. This forces you to handle cases exhaustively and intentionally. When you're dealing with a massive codebase 'easy' type bridging is often how you end up back in 'id' or 'any' hell. Swift’s compiler yelling at you is usually it trying to tell you that your logic is too ambiguous to be safely compiled which, in a safety first language, is the compiler doing its job.