Wing Tech Corner is your go-to site for grounded tech talk, honest reviews, and setup guides that don’t assume you’ve got a team of interns or a rack of sponsor gear.
Whether you’re a digital creative, a tech hobbyist, or someone who just wants their stuff to work better—this place is built for you.
I’m Wing. I build, tinker, test, and write. This site isn’t chasing trends—it’s trying to build a working relationship with the stuff we use every day.
“Leaving Cupertino feels like leaving a dream that got too clean. San Jose’s messier—but it’s mine again.”
— Wing
I’ve packed the last box.
Unplugged the desktop.
Took one last late-night walk past identical tech offices and empty sidewalks.
Cupertino served its purpose:
But by the end of 2024, I realized… I was orbiting the center, not living in it.
“2023 was the warm-up. 2024 is when the floor dropped out and the ceiling rose too fast to see.”
— Wing
By mid-2024, we’re no longer pretending this is experimental.
And it’s all starting to feel… inevitable.
“By February 2024, ChatGPT was my second monitor. CursorIDE became my third hand. But even prosthetics get tired.”
— Wing
This February wasn’t about hearts or roses. It was about prompts, diffs, and the quiet frustration of watching AI almost do what I needed—again.
CursorIDE entered my workflow with promises of tight integration, inline prompting, and smart code rewrites.
It was sleek. Fast. Magic, at first.
“In 1999, I built a Windows tower so I could play Quake. In 2024, I’m doing it so I can own something again.”
— Wing
While the world counted down with TikTok filters and AI-generated fireworks, I was unpacking anti-static bags and clicking RAM sticks into place.
No champagne. Just cable ties.
Because this year—for the first time in a long time—I got myself a Windows desktop.
“There was a time you could build a whole synth from a parts bin at Halted. Now I need a VPN just to find an ATmega chip that isn’t counterfeit.”
— Wing
Remember when you could order a dev board from SparkFun, slap in a few passives from Digi-Key, and have your blinking prototype up by the weekend?
Now it’s:
And half the eBay listings look like someone printed a screenshot of a datasheet and sold it as a module.
“Back in 1994, AX smelled like VHS tapes, stale carpet, and freedom. In 2023? It smells like LED panels, QR codes, and brand deals.”
— Wing
For a certain breed of fan, July 4th doesn’t mean fireworks.
It means AX. Anime Expo.
A pilgrimage to SoCal for sweat, panels, prints, and people who get it.
But AX 2023 is a far cry from AX 1994.
The soul’s still there… if you know where to look.
“June used to mean letting go. Now it feels like one more upload queue.”
— Wing
June used to have a shape.
Long shadows across sidewalks. The smell of plastic binders shoved into cardboard boxes. The static buzz of CRTs fading as schools powered down. You knew what June meant—an exhale.
But in 2023? The line between months is blurry. You don’t log off. You optimize.
Remember when “summer break” was a thing?
“They gave their lives. You get 15% off patio furniture.”
— Wing
Memorial Day, 2023.
For some, it’s the quietest morning of the year. Flags at half-mast. Graves visited. Names whispered.
For others, it’s promo code: FREEDOM23.
Originally called Decoration Day, it started after the Civil War—families placing flowers on graves. It wasn’t fireworks and grilling. It was silence. Stillness. A long look at the cost of conflict.
“In 2020 we clapped from balconies. In 2023, they’re still wearing trash bags in some hospitals.”
— Wing
It’s May 2023. National Nurses Week again.
The hashtags are back. The HR newsletters. The “thank you” banners with softly lit group photos.
But if you talk to an actual nurse today—really talk to one—you’ll find something sharper beneath the surface: fatigue, anger, and the quiet ache of betrayal.
Remember those first weeks?
“In 2003 we set our IM status to ‘LOL FACE’ as a joke. In 2023, we created impossible AI pets and watched them go viral.”
— Wing
April Fool’s Day 2023 wasn’t just jokes—it was a showcase of how far generative AI had come, and how easily it could blur reality.
A prankster using AI art tools created a convincing New Zealand website advertising “Bungee Jumping Babies”—complete with photorealistic imagery and safety disclaimers. It felt authentic enough to make folks do a double-take :contentReference[oaicite:1]{index=1}.