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If you backed Hollow Knight on Kickstarter in late 2014, developer Team Cherry has confirmed that you will receive a download code for Hollow Knight: Silksong. This promise also marks the first Kickstarter update in six years for the upcoming metroidvania game.

The only caveat is that keys for Hollow Knight: Silksong will only be available on PC, Switch, and Switch 2. The game will also launch September 4 on PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbox Series X|S, and Game Pass. “We’ll be reaching out in the (very) near future to find out your platforms of choice and the best email addresses to send your copy/s. Keys will be provided as either PC (Steam and DRM free) or Nintendo Switch (Nintendo Switch and Nintendo Switch 2),” Team Cherry said in the Kickstarter update.

For those curious, the previous Kickstarter update was a post right after E3 2019 talking about a demo for Hollow Knight: Silksong. Funnily enough, the Gamescom demo playable this week seems to be nearly identical to the experience from E3 2019 (an event that no longer exists). GameSpot did get hands-on time with Hollow Knight: Silksong at Gamescom.

Kickstarter backers receiving Hollow Knight: Silksong codes was foreshadowed yesterday when Bloomberg’s Jason Schreier posted on social media that reviews probably wouldn’t be ready before the game’s launch. That’s reportedly because Team Cherry would find it unfair for critics to play the game earlier than original backers.

The anticipation for Hollow Knight: Silksong’s upcoming launch feels pretty tangible. For instance, Hollow Knight just hit an all-time concurrent-players peak on Steam with over 22,000 people. In addition, at least three indie games are pushing back their release dates now to avoid coming out near Hollow Knight: Silksong.

If you backed Hollow Knight on Kickstarter in late 2014, developer Team Cherry has confirmed that you will receive a download code for Hollow Knight: Silksong. This promise also marks the first Kickstarter update in six years for the upcoming metroidvania game.

The only caveat is that keys for Hollow Knight: Silksong will only be available on PC, Switch, and Switch 2. The game will also launch September 4 on PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbox Series X|S, and Game Pass. “We’ll be reaching out in the (very) near future to find out your platforms of choice and the best email addresses to send your copy/s. Keys will be provided as either PC (Steam and DRM free) or Nintendo Switch (Nintendo Switch and Nintendo Switch 2),” Team Cherry said in the Kickstarter update.

For those curious, the previous Kickstarter update was a post right after E3 2019 talking about a demo for Hollow Knight: Silksong. Funnily enough, the Gamescom demo playable this week seems to be nearly identical to the experience from E3 2019 (an event that no longer exists). GameSpot did get hands-on time with Hollow Knight: Silksong at Gamescom.

Kickstarter backers receiving Hollow Knight: Silksong codes was foreshadowed yesterday when Bloomberg’s Jason Schreier posted on social media that reviews probably wouldn’t be ready before the game’s launch. That’s reportedly because Team Cherry would find it unfair for critics to play the game earlier than original backers.

The anticipation for Hollow Knight: Silksong’s upcoming launch feels pretty tangible. For instance, Hollow Knight just hit an all-time concurrent-players peak on Steam with over 22,000 people. In addition, at least three indie games are pushing back their release dates now to avoid coming out near Hollow Knight: Silksong.

I’ve been quietly outsourcing more and more of my life to AI. It started with work tasks and writing prompts. AI even helped me land my latest job. Now, with “agentic AI” and autonomous agents making headlines, the possibilities have multiplied.

So, I started to wonder: if AI is so good at optimizing my professional life, could it do the same for my personal one? Could ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, or Grok plan my week better than I could? Would it make me more connected or just more robotic? Would people notice a difference? Would I care?

I decided to run the experiment, fully prepared for things to get weird.

Laying down the ground rules for my AI takeover

Out of all the main AI players, I picked ChatGPT, partly because it already knew me — maybe a little too well — and because it’s the only AI subscription I pay for. My chat history includes everything from therapy-adjacent venting and restaurant scouting to career planning, creative brainstorming, and fashion advice.

The kicker: I’d just been granted access to OpenAI’s Agent feature, essentially an AI that can take action on your behalf. It can book reservations, pull live data, and organize tasks without you pasting in every detail.

At first, it was unsettling. The idea of a chatbot having conversations for me felt like handing my personality to a stranger. Following instructions about where to eat or what to wear felt alien. We even spoke through ChatGPT’s voice mode to give it more context, which was weirdly intimate, like confiding in a personal assistant who never blinked.

The upside? My account usually gives me a couple of options when I ask for something, so I still had some say. And soon, the weirdness faded.

The warm-up: errands, Netflix picks, and borrowed small talk

The first few days were low-stakes. My focus was work, so ChatGPT handled the easy-to-outsource stuff: building my grocery list, finding a new Netflix series that actually matched my taste, and answering a few casual text messages from friends.

Things got interesting on Thursday, when weekend messages started trickling in. A good friend texted: “What are you doing this weekend?” Normally, I’d give a vague “not sure yet” and figure it out later. This time, I showed ChatGPT the text.

Seconds later, my friend had a cheerful, fully formed plan that I hadn’t even thought about, and I’d barely lifted a finger.

From tourist traps to compliments on my shirt

Saturday night’s AI-chosen “top-rated” Italian restaurant was a miss: laminated menus, bored waiters, and a room packed with tourists snapping photos of their food. It was not terrible, but it did not have the hidden gem energy I like.

Sunday’s brunch, though, was a win. At brunch, one friend raised an eyebrow.

“Since when do you book places more than five minutes in advance?” she asked. I admitted the reservation came from my new personal assistant, and by the time the pancakes arrived, she was pitching ways to outsource our entire social calendar to it.

Also, I asked ChatGPT to pick my outfit on Saturday, based on male fashion trends and what it already knew about my wardrobe. Interestingly, it chose a bold patterned shirt I’d normally shove to the back of the closet. I wore it, got more compliments than I’ve had in months, and started to wonder if maybe AI knows something about my confidence that I don’t.

Letting AI plan my week showed me what I actually value

What surprised me most was how much I overthink the simplest plans. With the busywork handled, I felt lighter and freer to be present instead of mentally juggling what’s next.

It wasn’t flawless. AI can’t tell the difference between “highly rated” and “actually worth going to,” and some of its messages had a faint uncanny valley vibe. But its mistakes — the tourist-trap dinner and the overly enthusiastic RSVPs — became moments of genuine connection among friends. We laughed about them. We improvised.

There was also a strange intimacy in letting AI into my social life. I noticed patterns I hadn’t before: I often delay responding to invitations, default to the same three restaurants, and am more adventurous with clothing when someone else makes the call. Those nudges made me aware of my own habits in a way that felt oddly personal.

In the end, outsourcing my week didn’t strip away my humanity. It highlighted it. By handling the logistics, AI left me with more bandwidth to listen, to laugh at the awkward bits, and to embrace the unpredictability that makes social life worth having.

Would I let AI run my personal life forever? No. But for one week, it didn’t just make my life more efficient. It reminded me of what’s actually human about being social: showing up, enjoying the company, and letting the unexpected make the best memories.

I’ve been quietly outsourcing more and more of my life to AI. It started with work tasks and writing prompts. AI even helped me land my latest job. Now, with “agentic AI” and autonomous agents making headlines, the possibilities have multiplied.

So, I started to wonder: if AI is so good at optimizing my professional life, could it do the same for my personal one? Could ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, or Grok plan my week better than I could? Would it make me more connected or just more robotic? Would people notice a difference? Would I care?

I decided to run the experiment, fully prepared for things to get weird.

Laying down the ground rules for my AI takeover

Out of all the main AI players, I picked ChatGPT, partly because it already knew me — maybe a little too well — and because it’s the only AI subscription I pay for. My chat history includes everything from therapy-adjacent venting and restaurant scouting to career planning, creative brainstorming, and fashion advice.

The kicker: I’d just been granted access to OpenAI’s Agent feature, essentially an AI that can take action on your behalf. It can book reservations, pull live data, and organize tasks without you pasting in every detail.

At first, it was unsettling. The idea of a chatbot having conversations for me felt like handing my personality to a stranger. Following instructions about where to eat or what to wear felt alien. We even spoke through ChatGPT’s voice mode to give it more context, which was weirdly intimate, like confiding in a personal assistant who never blinked.

The upside? My account usually gives me a couple of options when I ask for something, so I still had some say. And soon, the weirdness faded.

The warm-up: errands, Netflix picks, and borrowed small talk

The first few days were low-stakes. My focus was work, so ChatGPT handled the easy-to-outsource stuff: building my grocery list, finding a new Netflix series that actually matched my taste, and answering a few casual text messages from friends.

Things got interesting on Thursday, when weekend messages started trickling in. A good friend texted: “What are you doing this weekend?” Normally, I’d give a vague “not sure yet” and figure it out later. This time, I showed ChatGPT the text.

Seconds later, my friend had a cheerful, fully formed plan that I hadn’t even thought about, and I’d barely lifted a finger.

From tourist traps to compliments on my shirt

Saturday night’s AI-chosen “top-rated” Italian restaurant was a miss: laminated menus, bored waiters, and a room packed with tourists snapping photos of their food. It was not terrible, but it did not have the hidden gem energy I like.

Sunday’s brunch, though, was a win. At brunch, one friend raised an eyebrow.

“Since when do you book places more than five minutes in advance?” she asked. I admitted the reservation came from my new personal assistant, and by the time the pancakes arrived, she was pitching ways to outsource our entire social calendar to it.

Also, I asked ChatGPT to pick my outfit on Saturday, based on male fashion trends and what it already knew about my wardrobe. Interestingly, it chose a bold patterned shirt I’d normally shove to the back of the closet. I wore it, got more compliments than I’ve had in months, and started to wonder if maybe AI knows something about my confidence that I don’t.

Letting AI plan my week showed me what I actually value

What surprised me most was how much I overthink the simplest plans. With the busywork handled, I felt lighter and freer to be present instead of mentally juggling what’s next.

It wasn’t flawless. AI can’t tell the difference between “highly rated” and “actually worth going to,” and some of its messages had a faint uncanny valley vibe. But its mistakes — the tourist-trap dinner and the overly enthusiastic RSVPs — became moments of genuine connection among friends. We laughed about them. We improvised.

There was also a strange intimacy in letting AI into my social life. I noticed patterns I hadn’t before: I often delay responding to invitations, default to the same three restaurants, and am more adventurous with clothing when someone else makes the call. Those nudges made me aware of my own habits in a way that felt oddly personal.

In the end, outsourcing my week didn’t strip away my humanity. It highlighted it. By handling the logistics, AI left me with more bandwidth to listen, to laugh at the awkward bits, and to embrace the unpredictability that makes social life worth having.

Would I let AI run my personal life forever? No. But for one week, it didn’t just make my life more efficient. It reminded me of what’s actually human about being social: showing up, enjoying the company, and letting the unexpected make the best memories.

I’ve been quietly outsourcing more and more of my life to AI. It started with work tasks and writing prompts. AI even helped me land my latest job. Now, with “agentic AI” and autonomous agents making headlines, the possibilities have multiplied.

So, I started to wonder: if AI is so good at optimizing my professional life, could it do the same for my personal one? Could ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, or Grok plan my week better than I could? Would it make me more connected or just more robotic? Would people notice a difference? Would I care?

I decided to run the experiment, fully prepared for things to get weird.

Laying down the ground rules for my AI takeover

Out of all the main AI players, I picked ChatGPT, partly because it already knew me — maybe a little too well — and because it’s the only AI subscription I pay for. My chat history includes everything from therapy-adjacent venting and restaurant scouting to career planning, creative brainstorming, and fashion advice.

The kicker: I’d just been granted access to OpenAI’s Agent feature, essentially an AI that can take action on your behalf. It can book reservations, pull live data, and organize tasks without you pasting in every detail.

At first, it was unsettling. The idea of a chatbot having conversations for me felt like handing my personality to a stranger. Following instructions about where to eat or what to wear felt alien. We even spoke through ChatGPT’s voice mode to give it more context, which was weirdly intimate, like confiding in a personal assistant who never blinked.

The upside? My account usually gives me a couple of options when I ask for something, so I still had some say. And soon, the weirdness faded.

The warm-up: errands, Netflix picks, and borrowed small talk

The first few days were low-stakes. My focus was work, so ChatGPT handled the easy-to-outsource stuff: building my grocery list, finding a new Netflix series that actually matched my taste, and answering a few casual text messages from friends.

Things got interesting on Thursday, when weekend messages started trickling in. A good friend texted: “What are you doing this weekend?” Normally, I’d give a vague “not sure yet” and figure it out later. This time, I showed ChatGPT the text.

Seconds later, my friend had a cheerful, fully formed plan that I hadn’t even thought about, and I’d barely lifted a finger.

From tourist traps to compliments on my shirt

Saturday night’s AI-chosen “top-rated” Italian restaurant was a miss: laminated menus, bored waiters, and a room packed with tourists snapping photos of their food. It was not terrible, but it did not have the hidden gem energy I like.

Sunday’s brunch, though, was a win. At brunch, one friend raised an eyebrow.

“Since when do you book places more than five minutes in advance?” she asked. I admitted the reservation came from my new personal assistant, and by the time the pancakes arrived, she was pitching ways to outsource our entire social calendar to it.

Also, I asked ChatGPT to pick my outfit on Saturday, based on male fashion trends and what it already knew about my wardrobe. Interestingly, it chose a bold patterned shirt I’d normally shove to the back of the closet. I wore it, got more compliments than I’ve had in months, and started to wonder if maybe AI knows something about my confidence that I don’t.

Letting AI plan my week showed me what I actually value

What surprised me most was how much I overthink the simplest plans. With the busywork handled, I felt lighter and freer to be present instead of mentally juggling what’s next.

It wasn’t flawless. AI can’t tell the difference between “highly rated” and “actually worth going to,” and some of its messages had a faint uncanny valley vibe. But its mistakes — the tourist-trap dinner and the overly enthusiastic RSVPs — became moments of genuine connection among friends. We laughed about them. We improvised.

There was also a strange intimacy in letting AI into my social life. I noticed patterns I hadn’t before: I often delay responding to invitations, default to the same three restaurants, and am more adventurous with clothing when someone else makes the call. Those nudges made me aware of my own habits in a way that felt oddly personal.

In the end, outsourcing my week didn’t strip away my humanity. It highlighted it. By handling the logistics, AI left me with more bandwidth to listen, to laugh at the awkward bits, and to embrace the unpredictability that makes social life worth having.

Would I let AI run my personal life forever? No. But for one week, it didn’t just make my life more efficient. It reminded me of what’s actually human about being social: showing up, enjoying the company, and letting the unexpected make the best memories.

One of the long-awaited changes with the Pixel Watch 4 is that, finally, the smartwatch can actually be repaired. In an interview, Google details how that was made possible, and is also teasing that more third-party chargers are in the pipeline.

For the first three generations of Pixel Watch, a broken smartwatch meant that you were out of luck. Unless you were paying for an extended warranty, your only option was to just buy a new one. Even if Google replaced it, it was a full replacement, not a repaired device. It was a gaping hole in the brand’s sustainability goals, and it’s great to see that, with Pixel Watch 4, it’s been fixed.

With the help of a “tremendous collaboration” between its design and engineering teams, Google has finally cracked the case on making its Pixel Watch 4 repairable as Wired reports. Through a pair of T2 screws found inside of the mounting location for bands, the Pixel Watch 4 can be disassembled to access its internals. There’s no adhesive to mess around with, which seems like a pretty huge accomplishment given the Pixel Watch 4 retains 5ATM / IP68 water resistance.

This allows for both battery and display replacements which, again, was not possible on past generations, and does so using a simple T2 Torx screwdriver. At the Made by Google event, 9to5Google was also able to see the insides of a disassembled Pixel Watch 4, with the easy-to-access screws clearly visible (pictured above).

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The interview describes the process of tearing down Pixel Watch 4 as follows:

There are two T2 screws located under the watch band pocket—unscrew those, and you can access the internals of the Pixel Watch 4, no need to fuss with any adhesives. At this stage, the Biosensor Hub, which houses the heart rate monitor and other sensors on the back of the watch, is still connected. Google intentionally made it so that this connector doesn’t need to be removed for battery replacements.

To remove the battery, remove the haptic motor with the T2 head on a Torx screwdriver. Two more screws hold the battery, but once they’re out, you can disconnect the battery from the board and be done. You’ll notice that Google used T2 screws throughout that entire process. This is intentional, as you can use the same Torx screwdriver for battery replacements, reducing the number of tools needed for repairs.

To replace the display, you’ll need to unplug the Biosensor Hub. Then disconnect the battery brackets, unplug the display connector, and unscrew the four screws that hold the glass to the housing.

Spare parts for Pixel Watch 4 will be sold through iFixit. It’s mentioned that a demo of the process detailed above took just 13 minutes to complete, showing how easy it is to repair the Pixel Watch 4.

In that same interview, Google confirms that “we’ll see more options” in terms of third-party Pixel Watch 4 chargers.

For the past couple of generations of Pixel Watch, charging accessories have been almost nonexistent. You might find something here or there, but quality is often lacking. There’s nothing available just yet, but it seems that Google has plans to work with partners in releasing new charging accessories for its smartwatch. Hopefully, that includes some 2-in-1 or 3-in-1 docks, as that’s something that’s common for Apple Watch owners.

Pixel Watch 4 starts shipping in October.

More on Pixel Watch:

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I’ve been quietly outsourcing more and more of my life to AI. It started with work tasks and writing prompts. AI even helped me land my latest job. Now, with “agentic AI” and autonomous agents making headlines, the possibilities have multiplied.

So, I started to wonder: if AI is so good at optimizing my professional life, could it do the same for my personal one? Could ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, or Grok plan my week better than I could? Would it make me more connected or just more robotic? Would people notice a difference? Would I care?

I decided to run the experiment, fully prepared for things to get weird.

Laying down the ground rules for my AI takeover

Out of all the main AI players, I picked ChatGPT, partly because it already knew me — maybe a little too well — and because it’s the only AI subscription I pay for. My chat history includes everything from therapy-adjacent venting and restaurant scouting to career planning, creative brainstorming, and fashion advice.

The kicker: I’d just been granted access to OpenAI’s Agent feature, essentially an AI that can take action on your behalf. It can book reservations, pull live data, and organize tasks without you pasting in every detail.

At first, it was unsettling. The idea of a chatbot having conversations for me felt like handing my personality to a stranger. Following instructions about where to eat or what to wear felt alien. We even spoke through ChatGPT’s voice mode to give it more context, which was weirdly intimate, like confiding in a personal assistant who never blinked.

The upside? My account usually gives me a couple of options when I ask for something, so I still had some say. And soon, the weirdness faded.

The warm-up: errands, Netflix picks, and borrowed small talk

The first few days were low-stakes. My focus was work, so ChatGPT handled the easy-to-outsource stuff: building my grocery list, finding a new Netflix series that actually matched my taste, and answering a few casual text messages from friends.

Things got interesting on Thursday, when weekend messages started trickling in. A good friend texted: “What are you doing this weekend?” Normally, I’d give a vague “not sure yet” and figure it out later. This time, I showed ChatGPT the text.

Seconds later, my friend had a cheerful, fully formed plan that I hadn’t even thought about, and I’d barely lifted a finger.

From tourist traps to compliments on my shirt

Saturday night’s AI-chosen “top-rated” Italian restaurant was a miss: laminated menus, bored waiters, and a room packed with tourists snapping photos of their food. It was not terrible, but it did not have the hidden gem energy I like.

Sunday’s brunch, though, was a win. At brunch, one friend raised an eyebrow.

“Since when do you book places more than five minutes in advance?” she asked. I admitted the reservation came from my new personal assistant, and by the time the pancakes arrived, she was pitching ways to outsource our entire social calendar to it.

Also, I asked ChatGPT to pick my outfit on Saturday, based on male fashion trends and what it already knew about my wardrobe. Interestingly, it chose a bold patterned shirt I’d normally shove to the back of the closet. I wore it, got more compliments than I’ve had in months, and started to wonder if maybe AI knows something about my confidence that I don’t.

Letting AI plan my week showed me what I actually value

What surprised me most was how much I overthink the simplest plans. With the busywork handled, I felt lighter and freer to be present instead of mentally juggling what’s next.

It wasn’t flawless. AI can’t tell the difference between “highly rated” and “actually worth going to,” and some of its messages had a faint uncanny valley vibe. But its mistakes — the tourist-trap dinner and the overly enthusiastic RSVPs — became moments of genuine connection among friends. We laughed about them. We improvised.

There was also a strange intimacy in letting AI into my social life. I noticed patterns I hadn’t before: I often delay responding to invitations, default to the same three restaurants, and am more adventurous with clothing when someone else makes the call. Those nudges made me aware of my own habits in a way that felt oddly personal.

In the end, outsourcing my week didn’t strip away my humanity. It highlighted it. By handling the logistics, AI left me with more bandwidth to listen, to laugh at the awkward bits, and to embrace the unpredictability that makes social life worth having.

Would I let AI run my personal life forever? No. But for one week, it didn’t just make my life more efficient. It reminded me of what’s actually human about being social: showing up, enjoying the company, and letting the unexpected make the best memories.

If you backed Hollow Knight on Kickstarter in late 2014, developer Team Cherry has confirmed that you will receive a download code for Hollow Knight: Silksong. This promise also marks the first Kickstarter update in six years for the upcoming metroidvania game.

The only caveat is that keys for Hollow Knight: Silksong will only be available on PC, Switch, and Switch 2. The game will also launch September 4 on PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbox Series X|S, and Game Pass. “We’ll be reaching out in the (very) near future to find out your platforms of choice and the best email addresses to send your copy/s. Keys will be provided as either PC (Steam and DRM free) or Nintendo Switch (Nintendo Switch and Nintendo Switch 2),” Team Cherry said in the Kickstarter update.

For those curious, the previous Kickstarter update was a post right after E3 2019 talking about a demo for Hollow Knight: Silksong. Funnily enough, the Gamescom demo playable this week seems to be nearly identical to the experience from E3 2019 (an event that no longer exists). GameSpot did get hands-on time with Hollow Knight: Silksong at Gamescom.

Kickstarter backers receiving Hollow Knight: Silksong codes was foreshadowed yesterday when Bloomberg’s Jason Schreier posted on social media that reviews probably wouldn’t be ready before the game’s launch. That’s reportedly because Team Cherry would find it unfair for critics to play the game earlier than original backers.

The anticipation for Hollow Knight: Silksong’s upcoming launch feels pretty tangible. For instance, Hollow Knight just hit an all-time concurrent-players peak on Steam with over 22,000 people. In addition, at least three indie games are pushing back their release dates now to avoid coming out near Hollow Knight: Silksong.

If you backed Hollow Knight on Kickstarter in late 2014, developer Team Cherry has confirmed that you will receive a download code for Hollow Knight: Silksong. This promise also marks the first Kickstarter update in six years for the upcoming metroidvania game.

The only caveat is that keys for Hollow Knight: Silksong will only be available on PC, Switch, and Switch 2. The game will also launch September 4 on PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbox Series X|S, and Game Pass. “We’ll be reaching out in the (very) near future to find out your platforms of choice and the best email addresses to send your copy/s. Keys will be provided as either PC (Steam and DRM free) or Nintendo Switch (Nintendo Switch and Nintendo Switch 2),” Team Cherry said in the Kickstarter update.

For those curious, the previous Kickstarter update was a post right after E3 2019 talking about a demo for Hollow Knight: Silksong. Funnily enough, the Gamescom demo playable this week seems to be nearly identical to the experience from E3 2019 (an event that no longer exists). GameSpot did get hands-on time with Hollow Knight: Silksong at Gamescom.

Kickstarter backers receiving Hollow Knight: Silksong codes was foreshadowed yesterday when Bloomberg’s Jason Schreier posted on social media that reviews probably wouldn’t be ready before the game’s launch. That’s reportedly because Team Cherry would find it unfair for critics to play the game earlier than original backers.

The anticipation for Hollow Knight: Silksong’s upcoming launch feels pretty tangible. For instance, Hollow Knight just hit an all-time concurrent-players peak on Steam with over 22,000 people. In addition, at least three indie games are pushing back their release dates now to avoid coming out near Hollow Knight: Silksong.