When you purchase through links on our site, we may earn an affiliate commission. Here’s how it works. Microsoft accidentally replaced Windows 11 startup sound with one from Vista Taras Buria Neowin @TarasBuria · Jun 14, 2025 14:46 EDT The recently released Windows 11 Dev and Beta builds introduced some welcome changes and improvements. However, those preview builds are not flawless and have a pretty long list of known issues. One of those issues, though, is a rather delightful one: Windows 11's default startup jingle has been accidentally replaced with one from 2006. After Windows Insiders discovered that Windows 11 now plays the Windows Vista startup sound and reported it to Microsoft, the company acknowledged it and added it to the list of known bugs in the latest Windows 11 Dev and Beta builds: This week’s flight comes with a delightful blast from the past and will play the Windows Vista boot sound instead of the Windows 11 boot sound. We’re working on a fix. Although Windows Vista is nearly two decades old, it was brought to everyone's attention this week after Apple introduced macOS 26 Tahoe with its controversial "Liquid Glass" redesign, which many consider a rather miserable remix of Windows Aero from Windows Vista and Windows 7. While it is definitely an interesting coincidence, Microsoft did not intentionally replace the startup sound in Windows 11 preview builds. Brandon LeBlanc from the Windows Insider team confirmed in his X that that is a bug after joking about everyone talking about Windows Vista once again in light of Apple's latest announcements: It is worth noting that if you miss the startup sound of Windows Vista, you can still use it in modern Windows versions. All it takes is the original WAV file and a few clicks in the Windows Registry and Sound settings. And for those who want a shot of nostalgia, here is the sound of Windows Vista startup: What startup jingle do you like more: Windows Vista or Windows 11? Share your thoughts in the comments. Tags Report a problem with article Follow @NeowinFeed

Inside Apple’s high-gloss standoff with AI ambition and the uncanny choreography of WWDC 2025There was a time when watching an Apple keynote — like Steve Jobs introducing the iPhone in 2007, the masterclass of all masterclasses in product launching — felt like watching a tightrope act. There was suspense. Live demos happened — sometimes they failed, and when they didn’t, the applause was real, not piped through a Dolby mix.These days, that tension is gone. Since 2020, in the wake of the pandemic, Apple events have become pre-recorded masterworks: drone shots sweeping over Apple Park, transitions smoother than a Pixar short, and executives delivering their lines like odd, IRL spatial personas. They move like human renderings: poised, confident, and just robotic enough to raise a brow. The kind of people who, if encountered in real life, would probably light up half a dozen red flags before a handshake is even offered. A case in point: the official “Liquid Glass” UI demo — it’s visually stunning, yes, but also uncanny, like a concept reel that forgot it needed to ship.https://medium.com/media/fcb3b16cc42621ba32153aff80ea1805/hrefAnd that’s the paradox. Not only has Apple trimmed down the content of WWDC, it’s also polished the delivery into something almost inhumanly controlled. Every keynote beat feels engineered to avoid risk, reduce friction, and glide past doubt. But in doing so, something vital slips away: the tension, the spontaneity, the sense that the future is being made, not just performed.Just one year earlier, WWDC 2024 opened with a cinematic cold open “somewhere over California”:https://medium.com/media/f97f45387353363264d99c341d4571b0/hrefPhil Schiller piloting an Apple-branded plane, iPod in hand, muttering “I’m getting too old for this stuff.” A perfect mix of Lethal Weapon camp and a winking message that yes, Classic-Apple was still at the controls — literally — flying its senior leadership straight toward Cupertino. Out the hatch, like high-altitude paratroopers of optimism, leapt the entire exec team, with Craig Federighi, always the go-to for Apple’s auto-ironic set pieces, leading the charge, donning a helmet literally resembling his own legendary mane. It was peak-bold, bizarre, and unmistakably Apple. That intro now reads like the final act of full-throttle confidence.This year’s WWDC offered a particularly crisp contrast. Aside from the new intro — which features Craig Federighi drifting an F1-style race car across the inner rooftop ring of Apple Park as a “therapy session”, a not-so-subtle nod to the upcoming Formula 1 blockbuster but also to the accountability for the failure to deliver the system-wide AI on time — WWDC 2025 pulled back dramatically. The new “Apple Intelligence” was introduced in a keynote with zero stumbles, zero awkward transitions, and visuals so pristine they could have been rendered on a Vision Pro. Not only had the scope of WWDC been trimmed down to safer talking points, but even the tone had shifted — less like a tech summit, more like a handsomely lit containment-mode seminar. And that, perhaps, was the problem. The presentation wasn’t a reveal — it was a performance. And performances can be edited in post. Demos can’t.So when Apple in march 2025 quietly admitted, for the first time, in a formal press release addressed to reporters like John Gruber, that the personalized Siri and system-wide AI features would be delayed — the reaction wasn’t outrage. It was something subtler: disillusionment. Gruber’s response cracked the façade wide open. His post opened a slow but persistent wave of unease, rippling through developer Slack channels and private comment threads alike. John Gruber’s reaction, published under the headline “Something is rotten in the State of Cupertino”, was devastating. His critique opened the floodgates to a wave of murmurs and public unease among developers and insiders, many of whom had begun to question what was really happening at the helm of key divisions central to Apple’s future.Many still believe Apple is the only company truly capable of pulling off hardware-software integrated AI at scale. But there’s a sense that the company is now operating in damage-control mode. The delay didn’t just push back a feature — it disrupted the entire strategic arc of WWDC 2025. What could have been a milestone in system-level AI became a cautious sidestep, repackaged through visual polish and feature tweaks. The result: a presentation focused on UI refinements and safe bets, far removed from the sweeping revolution that had been teased as the main selling point for promoting the iPhone 16 launch, “Built for Apple Intelligence”.That tension surfaced during Joanna Stern’s recent live interview with Craig Federighi and Greg Joswiak. These are two of Apple’s most media-savvy execs, and yet, in a setting where questions weren’t scripted, you could see the seams. Their usual fluency gave way to something stiffer. More careful. Less certain. And even the absences speak volumes: for the first time in a decade, no one from Apple’s top team joined John Gruber’s Talk Show at WWDC. It wasn’t a scheduling fluke — nor a petty retaliation for Gruber’s damning March article. It was a retreat — one that Stratechery’s Ben Thompson described as exactly that: a strategic fallback, not a brave reset.Meanwhile, the keynote narrative quietly shifted from AI ambition to UI innovation: new visual effects, tighter integration, call screening. Credit here goes to Alan Dye — Apple VP of Human Interface Design and one of the last remaining members of Jony Ive’s inner circle not yet absorbed into LoveFrom — whose long-arc work on interface aesthetics, from the early stages of the Dynamic Island onward, is finally starting to click into place. This is classic Apple: refinement as substance, design as coherence. But it was meant to be the cherry on top of a much deeper AI-system transformation — not the whole sundae. All useful. All safe. And yet, the thing that Apple could uniquely deliver — a seamless, deeply integrated, user-controlled and privacy-safe Apple Intelligence — is now the thing it seems most reluctant to show.There is no doubt the groundwork has been laid. And to Apple’s credit, Jason Snell notes that the company is shifting gears, scaling ambitions to something that feels more tangible. But in scaling back the risk, something else has been scaled back too: the willingness to look your audience of stakeholders, developers and users live, in the eye, and show the future for how you have carefully crafted it and how you can put it in the market immediately, or in mere weeks. Showing things as they are, or as they will be very soon. Rehearsed, yes, but never faked.Even James Dyson’s live demo of a new vacuum showed more courage. No camera cuts. No soft lighting. Just a human being, showing a thing. It might have sucked, literally or figuratively. But it didn’t. And it stuck. That’s what feels missing in Cupertino.Some have started using the term glasslighting — a coined pun blending Apple’s signature glassy aesthetics with the soft manipulations of marketing, like a gentle fog of polished perfection that leaves expectations quietly disoriented. It’s not deception. It’s damage control. But that instinct, understandable as it is, doesn’t build momentum. It builds inertia. And inertia doesn’t sell intelligence. It only delays the reckoning.Before the curtain falls, it’s hard not to revisit the uncanny polish of Apple’s speakers presence. One might start to wonder whether Apple is really late on AI — or whether it’s simply developed such a hyper-advanced internal model that its leadership team has been replaced by real-time human avatars, flawlessly animated, fed directly by the Neural Engine. Not the constrained humanity of two floating eyes behind an Apple Vision headset, but full-on flawless embodiment — if this is Apple’s augmented AI at work, it may be the only undisclosed and underpromised demo actually shipping.OS30 live demoMeanwhile, just as Apple was soft-pedaling its A.I. story with maximum visual polish, a very different tone landed from across the bay: Sam Altman and Jony Ive, sitting in a bar, talking about the future.https://medium.com/media/5cdea73d7fde0b538e038af1990afa44/hrefNo stage. No teleprompter. No uncanny valley. Just two “old friends”, with one hell of a budget, quietly sketching the next era of computing. A vision Apple once claimed effortlessly.There’s still the question of whether Apple, as many hope, can reclaim — and lock down — that leadership for itself. A healthy dose of competition, at the very least, can only help.Too big, fail too was originally published in UX Collective on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Not Ready Resident Evil 9 is real, arriving next year, and it's looking like it'll be amping up the horror once more Everyone hoped that Summer Game Fest would see the next Resident Evil finally revealed, and the show sure delivered. Image credit: Capcom/Summer Game Fest News by Sherif Saed Contributing Editor Updated on June 6, 2025 The impending announcement of Resident Evil 9 has been sort of hovering around for what felt like months. Insiders have been claiming for a while that we were about to see it at this or that show, but it somehow never materialised - and it looks like today's the day that's finally changed. During today’s Summer Game Fest kick-off showcase, Capcom delivered a brief message about the upcoming sequel in the legendary horror series. In a short video, Jun Takeuchi thanked fans for their support of the Resident Evil series and stated that there'll be more news soon, when the developer is ready. This lead most to believe that we wouldn't be seeing Resident Evil 9 today, but as the show closed, everyone was surprised. To see this content please enable targeting cookies. A horrifying brief trailer, Resident Evil 9 is being dubbed Resident Evil Requiem, and looks to be inviting players into a much scarier experience - akin to Resident Evil Biohazard - this time around. The better news? It'll be playable as of February 27, 2026. The game has actually been teased by Capcom in recent videos from the publisher, such as the one published to celebrate Resident Evil 4 selling 10 million copies. It was so subtle, however, you may not have spotted it. Resident Evil 9 is being said to represent a big step forward for the series, though maybe not quite to the degree earlier reports have made it out to be; time will only tell. There’s obviously plenty we still do not know, including how much of the final game will resemble those leaks. Either way, Capcom have been doing this a while now, and it'll no doubt be the survival horror-action romp all Resi fans have been waiting for. As it’s often the case, however, more will certainly be revealed between now Resident Evil 9’s launch next year. The game is in development for PC, PS5, and Xbox Series X/S.

“I want to make a big announcement,” said Faryar Shirzad, the chief policy officer of Coinbase, to a nearly empty room. His words echoed across the massive hall at the Bitcoin Conference, deep in the caverns of The Venetian Expo in Las Vegas, and it wasn’t apparent how many people were watching on the livestream. Then again, somebody out there may have been interested in the panelists he was interviewing, one of whom was unusual by Bitcoin Conference standards: Chris LaCivita, the political consultant who’d co-chaired Donald Trump’s 2024 presidential campaign. “I am super proud to say it on this stage,” Shirzad continued, addressing the dozens of people scattered across 5,000 chairs. “We have just become a major sponsor of the America250 effort.” My jaw dropped. Coinbase, the world’s largest crypto exchange, the owner of 12 percent of the world’s Bitcoin supply, and listed on the S&P 500, was paying for Trump to hold a military parade.No wonder they made the announcement in an empty room. Today was “Code and Country”: an entire day of MAGA-themed panels on the Nakamoto Main Stage, full of Republican legislators, White House officials, and political operatives, all of whom praised Trump as the savior of the crypto world. But Code and Country was part of Industry Day, which was VIP only and closed to General Admission holders — the people with the $199 tickets, who flocked to the conference seeking wisdom from brilliant technologists and fabulously wealthy crypto moguls, who believed that decentralized currency on a blockchain could not be controlled by government authoritarians. They’d have drowned Shirzad in boos if they saw him give money to Donald Trump’s campaign manager, and they would have stormed the Nakamoto stage if they knew the purpose of America250. America250 is a nonprofit established by Congress during Barack Obama’s presidency with a mundane mission: to plan the nationwide festivities for July 4th, 2026, the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. “Who remembers the Bicentennial in 1976?” the co-chair, former U.S. Treasurer Rosie Rios, asked the crowd. “I remember it like it was yesterday, and this one is going to be bigger and better.” But then Trump got re-elected, appointed LaCivita as co-chair, and suddenly, the party was starting earlier. The week before the conference, America250 announced that it would host a “Grand Military Parade” on June 14th to celebrate the U.S. Army’s 250th birthday, releasing tickets for prime seats along the parade route and near the Washington Monument on their website, hosting other festivities on the National Mall, and credentialing the press covering the event. (Their celebrations and events are a different operation from the U.S. Army, which had never planned for a parade to celebrate its 250th birthday, much less a military parade, but is now spending up to $45 million in taxpayer dollars to make the parade happen.) According to the most recent statements from Army officials, the parade will include hundreds of cannons, dozens of Black Hawk and Chinook helicopters, fighter jets, bombers, and 150 military vehicles, including Bradley Fighting Vehicles, Stryker Fighting Vehicles, Humvees, and if the logistics work out, 25 (or more) M1 Abrams tanks. Trump had spent years trying to get the government to throw a military parade — primarily because he’d attended a Bastille Day parade in France and became jealous — and now that he was back in office, he’d finally eliminated everyone in the government who previously told him that the budget didn’t exist for such a parade, that the tank treads would ruin the streets and collapse the bridges, that the optics of tanks, guns and soldiers marching down Constitution Avenue were too authoritarian and fascist. June 14th also happens to be Donald Trump’s birthday.And Coinbase, whose CEO once told his employees to stop bringing politics into the workplace, was now footing the bill — if not for this military parade watch party, then for the one inevitably happening next year, when America actually turns 250, or any other festivities between now and then that may or may not fall on Trump’s birthday. (This wasn’t the first party they helped fund, though. Earlier this year, Coinbase wrote a $1 million check to Trump’s inauguration committee. One month later, the SEC announced that it was dropping an investigation into Coinbase.) I had to keep reminding myself that I was at the Bitcoin Conference. I’d been desperately looking for the goofy, degenerate party vibes that my coworkers who’d covered previous crypto conferences told me about: inflated swans with QR codes. Multimillionaires strolling around the Nakamoto Stage in shiba inu pajamas. Folks who communicated in memes and acronyms. Celebrity athletes who were actual celebrities. “Bitcoin yoga,” whatever that was. Afterparties with drugs, lots of drugs, and probably the mind-bending designer kind. And hey, Las Vegas was the global capital of goofy, degenerate partying. But no, I was stuck in a prolonged flashback to every single Republican event I’ve covered over the past ten years – Trump rallies, conservative conferences, GOP conventions, and MAGA fundraisers, with Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA” playing on an endless loop. There was an emcee endlessly praising Trump, encouraging the audience to clap for Trump, and reminding everyone about how great it was that Trump spoke at the Conference last year, which all sounds even stranger when said in an Australian accent. In addition to LaCivita, there were four GOP Congressmen, four GOP Senators, one Trump-appointed SEC Commissioner, one Treasury Official, two senior White House officials (including David Sacks, the White House crypto and A.I. czar), and two of Trump’s sons. All of them, too, spent time praising Trump as the first “crypto president.” (Vice President J.D. Vance would be speaking the next day to the general admission crowd, but he was probably going to praise Trump, too.) The titles of the panels seemed to be run through some sort of MAGA generative AI system: The Next Golden Age of America. The American Super Grid. Making America the Global Bitcoin Superpower. The New Declaration of Independence: Bitcoin and the Path Out of the U.S. National Debt Crisis. (Speaker: Vivek Ramaswamy.) Uncancleable: Bitcoin, Rumble & Free Speech Technology. (Speaker: Donald Trump Jr.) The only difference was that this MAGA conference was funded by crypto. And if crypto was paying for a MAGA conference, and they had to play “God Bless the USA,” they were bringing in a string quartet.Annoyed that I had not yet seen a single Shiba Inu — no, Jim Justice’s celebrity bulldog was not the same thing — I left Nakamoto and went back to the press area. It hadn’t turned into Fox News yet, but I could see MAGA’s presence seeping into the world of podcasters and vloggers. A Newsmax reporter (great blowout, jewel-toned sheath dress, heels to the heavens, very camera-ready) was interviewing White House official Bo Hines (clean-cut, former Yale football player and GOP congressional candidate, nice suit), right before he was hustled onstage for a panel with a member of the U.S. Treasury. Soon, Rep. Byron Donalds (R-FL) was doing an interview gauntlet while his senior aides stood by, one wearing a pink plaid blazer that could have easily been Brooks Brothers. Over on the Genesis Stage, the CEO of PragerU, a right wing media company that attacks higher education, was interviewing the CEO of the 1792 Exchange, a right-wing nonprofit that attacks companies for engaging in “woke business practices” such as diversity initiatives. (Leveraging Bitcoin’s Values to Shift the Culture in America.) I walked into the main expo center, past a crypto podcaster in a sequined bomber jacket talking to a Wall Street Journal reporter. For some reason, his presence was a relief. Even though he was clearly a Trump supporter — his jacket said TRUMP: THE GOLDEN AGE on the back — there was something more janky and homegrown, less corporate, about him. But the moment I looked up and saw a massive sign that said STEAKTOSHI, the unease returned. A ghoulish-looking group of executives from Steak ‘n Shake, the fast food company with over 450 locations across the globe, had gathered under the sign in a replica of the restaurant. They were selling jars of beef tallow, with a choice of grass-fed or Wagyu, and giving out a MAKE FRYING OIL TALLOW AGAIN hat with every purchase an overt embrace of the right-wing conspiracy that cooking with regular seed oils would lower one’s testosterone. (Relevant to the conference: they were also advertising that their restaurants now accepted Bitcoin.)Andrew Gordon, the head of Main Street Crypto PAC, had been to five previous Bitcoin Conferences and worked on crypto tax policy since 2014. He’d seen Trump speak at the last conference in Nashville during the election, and the audience – not typically unquestioning MAGA superfans – had melted into adoring goo in Trump’s presence. But now that Trump was using his presidential powers to establish a Bitcoin reserve, roll back federal investigations into crypto companies, and order massive changes to financial regulatory policies — in short, changing the entire market on crypto’s behalf with the stroke of a pen — Gordon clocked a notable vibe shift this year. “There are people wearing suits at a Bitcoin conference,” he told me wryly back in the press lounge. (He, too, was wearing a suit). The change wasn’t due to a new breed of Suit People flooding in. It was the Bitcoin veterans the ones who’d been coming to the conference for years, dressed in loud Versace jackets or old holey t-shirts – who were now in business attire. “They’re now recognizing the level of formality and how serious it is.”According to the Bitcoin Conference organizers, out of the 35,000-plus attendees in Vegas this year, 17.1 percent of them were categorized as “institutional and corporate decision-makers” — a vague way to describe politicians, corporate executives, and the rest of the C-suite world. Whenever they weren’t speaking onstage, they were conducting interviews with outlets hand-selected from dozens of media requests that had been filtered through the conference organizers, or in Q&A sessions with people who’d bought the $21,000 Whale Pass and could access the VIP Lounge. (Yes, the industry-only day of the conference had an even more exclusive tier.) They were sidebarring with crypto CEOs outside the conference for round tables, privately meeting Senators for lunch and White House officials for dinner. Gordon himself had just held a private breakfast for industry insiders, with GOP Senators Marsha Blackburn and Cynthia Lummis as special guests. And for the very, very wealthy, MAGA Inc., Trump’s primary super PAC, was holding a fundraising dinner in Vegas that night, with Vance, Don Jr., and Eric Trump in attendance. That ticket, according to The Washington Post, cost $1 million per person.It was the kind of amoral, backroom behavior that would have sent the General Admission attendees into a rage — and they did the next day, when the convention opened to them. During one extremely packed talk at the Genesis Stage called Are Bitcoiners Becoming Sycophants of the State?, a moderator asked the four panelists what they’d like to say to Vance and Sacks and all the politicians who’d been there yesterday. And Erik Cason erupted.“‘What you’re doing is actually immoral and bad. You hurt people. You actively want to use the state to implement violence against others.’ 
That’s like, fucked up and wrong,” said Cason, the author of “Cryptosovereignty,” to a crowd of hundreds. “If you personally wanna like, go to Yemen and try to stab those people, that’s on you. But asking other people to go do that – it is a fucked up and terrible thing.” He grew more heated. “And also fuck you. You’re not, like, a king. You’re supposed to be liable to the law, too. 
And I don’t appreciate you trying to think that that you just get to advance the state however the fuck you want, because you have power.”“These are the violent thugs who killed hundreds of millions of people over the last century,” agreed Bruce Fenton of Chainstone Labs. “They have nothing on us. All we wanna do is run some code and trade it around our nerd money. Leave us alone.”The audience burst into cheers and applause. Bitcoin was the promise of freedom from the government, who’d murdered and stolen and tried to control their lives, and now that their wealth was on the blockchain, no one could take their sovereignty. “Personally, I don’t really care what they [the politicians] think,” said American HODL, whose title on the conference site was “guy with 6.15 bitcoin,” the derision clear in his voice. “They are employees who work for us, so their thoughts and opinions on the matter are irrelevant. Do what the fuck we tell you to do.
 I don’t work for you. I’m not underneath you. You’re underneath me.” But the politicians weren’t going to listen to them, much less talk to them. The politicians spent the conference surrounded by aides and security who stopped people from approaching – I’m sorry, the Senator has to leave for an engagement now – or safely inside the VIP rooms with the $21,000-dollar Whale Pass holders and the million-dollar donors. By the time American HODL said that the politicians worked for him, they were on flights out of Vegas, having gotten what they wanted from Code and Country, an event that was closed to General Admission pass holders.Coinbase’s executives were at Code and Country, however. Coinbase held over 984,000 Bitcoin, more coins than American HODL could mine in a lifetime. And Coinbase was now a sponsor of Donald Trump’s birthday military parade. The Nakamoto Stage during Code + Country at the Bitcoin Conference.After David Sacks and the Winklevoss twins finished explaining how Trump had saved the crypto industry from Sen. Elizabeth Warren (or as one Winklevoss called her, “Pocahontas”), I was jonesing for a drink. A few other reporters on the ground had told me about “Code, Country and Cocktails,” the America250 afterparty held at the Ayu Dayclub at Resort World, and I signed up immediately. Reporters at past Bitcoin Conferences had promised legendary side-event depravity, and I hoped I would find it there. As I entered the lush, tropical nightclub, I saw two white-gloved hands sticking out the side of the wall, each holding a glass of champagne at crotch level. I reached out for a flute, thinking it was maybe just a fucked-up piece of art, and gasped as the hand let go of the stem, disappeared into the hole, and emerged seconds later with another full champagne glass. Past the champagne glory hole wall — there was really no other way to describe it — was a massive outdoor swimming pool, surrounded by chefs serving up endless portions of steak frites, unguarded magnums of Moët casually stacked in ice buckets, the professional Beautiful Women of Las Vegas draped around Peter Schiff, the famous economist/podcaster/Bitcoin skeptic. When not booked for private events, the crescent-shaped pool at Ayu would be filled with drunk people in swim suits, dancing to DJ Kaskade. No one was in the pool tonight. Depravity was not happening here. In fact, there was more networking going on than partying, and it was somehow more engaging than Bone Thugs-N-Harmony suddenly appearing onstage to perform. And it was distinctly not just about making money in crypto. A good percentage of this crowd wore some derivative of a MAGA hat, and anyone who could show off their photos of them with Trump did so. This, I realized, was how crypto bros did politics — a new game for them, where success and influence was not necessarily quantifiable. “Crypto got Trump elected,” Greg Grseziak, an agent who manages crypto influencers, told me, showing me his Trump photo opp. “In four years, this is going to be the biggest event in the presidential race.”Grzesiak walked off to do more networking, I finished my glory hole champagne, and in the meantime, Bone Thugs had started performing “East 1999”. A fellow reporter leaned over. “Who do you think those guys are?” he asked, pointing to a group of extremely tall white men in suits and lanyards, standing behind a velvet rope to the left of the stage.I walked over to investigate. They looked like the group of Steak ‘n Shake executives I met at the Expo Hall — the ones with the beef tallow jars and derivative MAGA hats — and they were lurking next to the stage, watching the rappers like vultures but barely moving to the music. This scene was too preposterous to actually be real: Steak ‘n Shake executives, at the Bitcoin Conference, attending a party for America250, in the VIP section, during a Bone Thugs-n-Harmony set? “Shout out to Steak ‘n Shake for being the first fast food restaurant to accept Bitcoin!” announced one of the Bones. The company logo appeared on a screen above his head.No flashy Vegas magic (or dancers in cow costumes, now shimmying onstage with Steak ‘n Shake signs) could mask what I just saw. This party was co-sponsored by a MAGA-branded fast-food chain owned by Sardar Biglari, a businessman who had purchased Maxim, became its editor-in-chief, and used the smutty magazine to endorse Trump in 2024. So was Frax, the stablecoin exchange, and Exodus, one of the biggest crypto wallet companies in the market. Bitcoin Magazine’s logo flashed across the stage at one point, as editor-in-chief David Bailey, in his own derivative MAGA hat, tried to hype up the crowd for J.D. Vance’s speech the next day. (“You only get to live history once,” he said, to faint cheers.)For some unknown reason, these companies were all putting their money into America250, and as I had to keep reminding myself, America250 — the government nonprofit in charge of planning the country’s celebrations of the 250th anniversary of the Declaration’s signing — was currently working to get tanks in the streets of Washington DC for Donald Trump’s birthday. I went for one last champagne flute from the glory hole, just for the novelty, and as the hand disappeared back into the wall, I caught something I’d missed earlier: above the hole was a logo for TRON, the blockchain exchange run by billionaire Justin Sun. He had faced several fraud investigations from the SEC that magically disappeared after he invested $75 million in a Trump family crypto company, and seemed more than happy to keep throwing crypto money at Trump. Recently, he won the $TRUMP meme coin dinner, spending over $16 million on the token in exchange for a private and controversial dinner with the president.TRON was also cosponsoring the America250 party.Earlier, I’d run into the Australian emcee in the elevator of The Palazzo. She’d spent the day teetering across the Nakamoto Stage in dainty kitten heels, a pinstriped blazer and miniskirt suit set, and given the gratuitous Trump praising and the fact she was blonde, I had stereotyped her as MAGA to the core. But the program was over and she was holding her heels by their ankle straps, barefoot and sighing in relief. This was not her usual style, she told an attendee. She’d take a pair of sneakers over heels if she could. But the conference organizers had told her to dress up because there were senators in attendance. “Tomorrow, the real Bitcoiners are coming,” she said, and she’d get to wear flat shoes. And the next morning, on the day of Vance’s speech, I found myself stuck outside the conference with the “real Bitcoiners.” In spite of all the emails that the conference had sent me reminding me of how strict security measures would be, possibly to overcorrect from last year’s utter shitshow around Trump’s appearance, I’d woken up too late, eaten my bagel too leisurely, got sidetracked by a police officer-turned-Bitcoin investor excited I was wearing orange (whoops), and barely missed the cutoff for the Secret Service to let me in. But the conference had set up televisions with a live feed of Vance’s speech, and the rest of the general admission attendees were remarkably chill about it, opting to mingle in the hallways until the Secret Service left. I found myself in a smaller crowd near the expo hall door, next to a young man carrying a live miniature Shiba Inu (“It’s a tiny doge!” he said proudly), and the podcaster I’d seen earlier in the sequined bomber jacket. He introduced himself as Action CEO, and with nothing else to do but wait — “You can watch the [Vance] replay,” he reassured me, “these events are mainly about networking” — we got to talking. “I’m actually excited that Trump isn’t even here, I’ll be honest with you,” he said, speaking with a rapid cadence. Trump was ultimately just one guy, and the fact that he sent his underlings and political allies — the ones who could actually implement his grand promises for the crypto industry — proved he hadn’t just been paying lip service. That said, it had come with some uncomfortable changes, including the re-emergence of Justin Sun. “It’s a little bit concerning when you say, All right, we don’t care what you did in the past. Come on out, clean slate,” he continued. “That’s the concern right now for most people. Seeing people that did wrong by the space coming back and acting like nothing happened? That’s a little concerning.” And not just that: Sun was back in the United States, having dinner with Trump, and giving him millions of dollars. “If you’re sitting in a room and having a conversation, people are literally gonna go, yeah, it’s kind of sketch that this guy is back here after everything that’s happened. You’re not gonna see it published, because it’s not a popular opinion, but we’re all definitely talking about it.” If Action’s friends weren’t comfortable talking about it openly, that fraudsters with enough money were suddenly back in the mix, it was certainly not the kind of conversation the CEOs were going to have in front of the General Admission crowd. (Though it did mean that the emcee, looking much happier than she did the day before, got to wear low-heeled boots and shorts.) But behind closed doors — or at least at the Code and Country panels, where the base pass attendees couldn’t boo them — they gave a sense of what their backroom conversations with the Trump administration did look like.“I was actually at a dinner last night and one of the things that someone from the admin said was, What if we give you guys everything you want and then you guys forget? Because there’s midterms in 2026, and hopefully 2028, and beyond,” said Sam Kazemian, the founder and CEO of Frax, which had sponsored the America250 party. “But one of the things I said was: We as an industry are very, very loyal. The crypto community has a very, very, very strong memory. And once this industry is legalized, is transparent, is safe, all of the big players understand that this wasn’t possible without this administration, this Congress, this Senate. We’re lifelong, career-long allies.”“Loyalty” is a dangerous concept with this president, who’s cheated on his three wives, stopped paying the legal fees for employees who’d taken the fall for him, ended the careers of sympathetic MAGA Republicans for insufficiently coddling him, withdrew security for government employees experiencing death threats for the sin of contradicting him in public by citing facts. It was only weeks ago that he and Vance were publicly screaming at Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky, who was at the White House to request more aid in the war against Russia, for not saying “thank you” in front of the cameras. It would be less than a week before he began threatening to cancel all of Elon Musk’s government contracts when the billionaire criticized the size of Trump’s budget, even though Musk had given him millions and helped him purge the government. And if you were to find a photo of any political leader, billionaire or CEO standing vacant-eyed next to Trump and shaking his hand, the circumstances are practically a given: they had recently made him unhappy, either for criticizing him, making an imagined slight, or simply asserting themselves. The only way they could avoid public humiliation, or their businesses being crushed via executive order, was to go to Mar-a-Lago, tell the world that the president was wonderful, and underwrite a giant party for his birthday military parade. Maybe Kazemian knew he was being tested, or maybe the 32-year old Ron Paul superfan had no idea what the administration was asking of him. Either way, he responded correctly. At least one person at the conference was thinking about ways that the government could betray the Bitcoin community. As the panel on Bitcoiners becoming sycophants of the state wrapped up, and the other panelists finished telling the government pigs to go fuck themselves and keep their hands off their nerd money, the moderator turned to Casey Rodarmor, a software engineer-turned-crypto influencer, for the last question: “Tell everyone here why Bitcoin wins, regardless of what happens.”“Oh, man, I don’t know if Bitcoin wins, regardless of what happens,” he responded, frowning. He had already gamed out one feasible situation where Bitcoin lost: “If we all of a sudden saw a very rapid inflation in a lot of fiat currencies, and there was a plausible scapegoat in Bitcoin all over the world, and they were able to make a sort of marketing claim that Bitcoin is causing this — Bitcoin is making your savings go to zero, it’s causing this carnage to the economy — 
If that happens worldwide, I think that’s really scary.” The moderator froze, the crowd murmured nervously, and I thought about the number of times Trump had blamed a group of people for problems they’d never caused. An awful lot of them were now being deported. “I take that seriously,” Rodarmor continued. “I don’t know that Bitcoin will succeed. I think that Bitcoin is incredibly strong, it’s incredibly difficult to fuck up. But in that case… man, I don’t know.” I had asked Action CEO earlier if Kazemian, the Frax CEO, was right — if the crypto world was unquestioningly loyal to Trump, if their support of him was unconditional. “Oh, it’s definitely conditional,” he said without hesitation, as his Trump jacket glittered under the fluorescent lights. “It’s a matter of, are you going to be doing the right things by us, by the people who are here?” We walked down the expo hall, past booths promising life-changing technological marvels, alongside thousands of people flooding into Nakamoto Hall, ready to learn how to become unfathomably rich, who paid $199 to be there.The audience of “Are Bitcoiners Becoming Sychophants of the State?”, Day Two of the Bitcoin ConferenceSee More:

For the past two years, it’s been a ghost in the machine of American tech. Between 2022 and today, a little-noticed tweak to the U.S. tax code has quietly rewired the financial logic of how American companies invest in research and development. Outside of CFO and accounting circles, almost no one knew it existed. “I work on these tax write-offs and still hadn’t heard about this,” a chief operating officer at a private-equity-backed tech company told Quartz. “It’s just been so weirdly silent.”AdvertisementStill, the delayed change to a decades-old tax provision — buried deep in the 2017 tax law — has contributed to the loss of hundreds of thousands of high-paying, white-collar jobs. That’s the picture that emerges from a review of corporate filings, public financial data, analysis of timelines, and interviews with industry insiders. One accountant, working in-house at a tech company, described it as a “niche issue with broad impact,” echoing sentiments from venture capital investors also interviewed for this article. Some spoke on condition of anonymity to discuss sensitive political matters.Since the start of 2023, more than half-a-million tech workers have been laid off, according to industry tallies. Headlines have blamed over-hiring during the pandemic and, more recently, AI. But beneath the surface was a hidden accelerant: a change to what’s known as Section 174 that helped gut in-house software and product development teams everywhere from tech giants such as Microsoft (MSFT) and Meta (META) to much smaller, private, direct-to-consumer and other internet-first companies.Now, as a bipartisan effort to repeal the Section 174 change moves through Congress, bigger questions are surfacing: How did a single line in the tax code help trigger a tsunami of mass layoffs? And why did no one see it coming? For almost 70 years, American companies could deduct 100% of qualified research and development spending in the year they incurred the costs. Salaries, software, contractor payments — if it contributed to creating or improving a product, it came off the top of a firm’s taxable income.AdvertisementThe deduction was guaranteed by Section 174 of the IRS Code of 1954, and under the provision, R&D flourished in the U.S.Microsoft was founded in 1975. Apple (AAPL) launched its first computer in 1976. Google (GOOGL) incorporated in 1998. Facebook opened to the general public in 2006. All these companies, now among the most valuable in the world, developed their earliest products — programming tools, hardware, search engines — under a tax system that rewarded building now, not later.The subsequent rise of smartphones, cloud computing, and mobile apps also happened in an America where companies could immediately write off their investments in engineering, infrastructure, and experimentation. It was a baseline assumption — innovation and risk-taking subsidized by the tax code — that shaped how founders operated and how investors made decisions.In turn, tech companies largely built their products in the U.S. AdvertisementMicrosoft’s operating systems were coded in Washington state. Apple’s early hardware and software teams were in California. Google’s search engine was born at Stanford and scaled from Mountain View. Facebook’s entire social architecture was developed in Menlo Park. The deduction directly incentivized keeping R&D close to home, rewarding companies for investing in American workers, engineers, and infrastructure.That’s what makes the politics of Section 174 so revealing. For all the rhetoric about bringing jobs back and making things in America, the first Trump administration’s major tax bill arguably helped accomplish the opposite.When Congress passed the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act (TCJA), the signature legislative achievement of President Donald Trump’s first term, it slashed the corporate tax rate from 35% to 21% — a massive revenue loss on paper for the federal government.To make the 2017 bill comply with Senate budget rules, lawmakers needed to offset the cost. So they added future tax hikes that wouldn’t kick in right away, wouldn’t provoke immediate backlash from businesses, and could, in theory, be quietly repealed later.AdvertisementThe delayed change to Section 174 — from immediate expensing of R&D to mandatory amortization, meaning that companies must spread the deduction out in smaller chunks over five or even 15-year periods — was that kind of provision. It didn’t start affecting the budget until 2022, but it helped the TCJA appear “deficit neutral” over the 10-year window used for legislative scoring.The delay wasn’t a technical necessity. It was a political tactic. Such moves are common in tax legislation. Phase-ins and delayed provisions let lawmakers game how the Congressional Budget Office (CBO) — Congress’ nonpartisan analyst of how bills impact budgets and deficits — scores legislation, pushing costs or revenue losses outside official forecasting windows.And so, on schedule in 2022, the change to Section 174 went into effect. Companies filed their 2022 tax returns under the new rules in early 2023. And suddenly, R&D wasn’t a full, immediate write-off anymore. The tax benefits of salaries for engineers, product and project managers, data scientists, and even some user experience and marketing staff — all of which had previously reduced taxable income in year one — now had to be spread out over five- or 15-year periods. To understand the impact, imagine a personal tax code change that allowed you to deduct 100% of your biggest source of expenses, and that becoming a 20% deduction. For cash-strapped companies, especially those not yet profitable, the result was a painful tax bill just as venture funding dried up and interest rates soared.AdvertisementSalesforce office buildings in San Francisco.Photo: Jason Henry/Bloomberg (Getty Images)It’s no coincidence that Meta announced its “Year of Efficiency” immediately after the Section 174 change took effect. Ditto Microsoft laying off 10,000 employees in January 2023 despite strong earnings, or Google parent Alphabet cutting 12,000 jobs around the same time.Amazon (AMZN) also laid off almost 30,000 people, with cuts focused not just on logistics but on Alexa and internal cloud tools — precisely the kinds of projects that would have once qualified as immediately deductible R&D. Salesforce (CRM) eliminated 10% of its staff, or 8,000 people, including entire product teams.In public, companies blamed bloat and AI. But inside boardrooms, spreadsheets were telling a quieter story. And MD&A notes — management’s notes on the numbers — buried deep in 10-K filings recorded the change, too. R&D had become more expensive to carry. Headcount, the leading R&D expense across the tech industry, was the easiest thing to cut.AdvertisementIn its 2023 annual report, Meta described salaries as its single biggest R&D expense. Between the first and second years that the Section 174 change began affecting tax returns, Meta cut its total workforce by almost 25%. Over the same period, Microsoft reduced its global headcount by about 7%, with cuts concentrated in product-facing, engineering-heavy roles.Smaller companies without the fortress-like balance sheets of Big Tech have arguably been hit even harder. Twilio (TWLO) slashed 22% of its workforce in 2023 alone. Shopify (SHOP) (headquartered in Canada but with much of its R&D teams in the U.S.) cut almost 30% of staff in 2022 and 2023. Coinbase (COIN) reduced headcount by 36% across a pair of brutal restructuring waves.Since going into effect, the provision has hit at the very heart of America’s economic growth engine: the tech sector.By market cap, tech giants dominate the S&P 500, with the “Magnificent 7” alone accounting for more than a third of the index’s total value. Workforce numbers tell a similar story, with tech employing millions of Americans directly and supporting the employment of tens of millions more. As measured by GDP, capital-T tech contributes about 10% of national output.AdvertisementIt’s not just that tech layoffs were large, it’s that they were massively disproportionate. Across the broader U.S. economy, job cuts hovered around in low single digits across most sectors. But in tech, entire divisions vanished, with a whopping 60% jump in layoffs between 2022 and 2023. Some cuts reflected real inefficiencies — a response to over-hiring during the zero-interest rate boom. At the same time, many of the roles eliminated were in R&D, product, and engineering, precisely the kind of functions that had once benefitted from generous tax treatment under Section 174.Throughout the 2010s, a broad swath of startups, direct-to-consumer brands, and internet-first firms — basically every company you recognize from Instagram or Facebook ads — built their growth models around a kind of engineered break-even.The tax code allowed them to spend aggressively on product and engineering, then write it all off as R&D, keeping their taxable income close to zero by design. It worked because taxable income and actual cash flow were often notGAAP accounting practices. Basically, as long as spending counted as R&D, companies could report losses to investors while owing almost nothing to the IRS.But the Section 174 change broke that model. Once those same expenses had to be spread out, or amortized, over multiple years, the tax shield vanished. Companies that were still burning cash suddenly looked profitable on paper, triggering real tax bills on imaginary gains.AdvertisementThe logic that once fueled a generation of digital-first growth collapsed overnight.So it wasn’t just tech experiencing effects. From 1954 until 2022, the U.S. tax code had encouraged businesses of all stripes to behave like tech companies. From retail to logistics, healthcare to media, if firms built internal tools, customized a software stack, or invested in business intelligence and data-driven product development, they could expense those costs. The write-off incentivized in-house builds and fast growth well outside the capital-T tech sector. This lines up with OECD research showing that immediate deductions foster innovation more than spread-out ones.And American companies ran with that logic. According to government data, U.S. businesses reported about $500 billion in R&D expenditures in 2019 alone, and almost half of that came from industries outside traditional tech. The Bureau of Economic Analysis estimates that this sector, the broader digital economy, accounts for another 10% of GDP.Add that to core tech’s contribution, and the Section 174 shift has likely touched at least 20% of the U.S. economy.AdvertisementThe result? A tax policy aimed at raising short-term revenue effectively hid a time bomb inside the growth engines of thousands of companies. And when it detonated, it kneecapped the incentive for hiring American engineers or investing in American-made tech and digital products.It made building tech companies in America look irrational on a spreadsheet.A bipartisan group of lawmakers is pushing to repeal the Section 174 change, with business groups, CFOs, crypto executives, and venture capitalists lobbying hard for retroactive relief. But the politics are messy. Fixing 174 would mean handing a tax break to the same companies many voters in both parties see as symbols of corporate excess. Any repeal would also come too late for the hundreds of thousands of workers already laid off.And of course, the losses don’t stop at Meta’s or Google’s campus gates. They ripple out. When high-paid tech workers disappear, so do the lunch orders. The house tours. The contract gigs. The spending habits that sustain entire urban economies and thousands of other jobs. Sandwich artists. Rideshare drivers. Realtors. Personal trainers. House cleaners. In tech-heavy cities, the fallout runs deep — and it’s still unfolding.AdvertisementWashington is now poised to pass a second Trump tax bill — one packed with more obscure provisions, more delayed impacts, more quiet redistribution. And it comes as analysts are only just beginning to understand the real-world effects of the last round.The Section 174 change “significantly increased the tax burden on companies investing in innovation, potentially stifling economic growth and reducing the United States’ competitiveness on the global stage,” according to the tax consulting firm KBKG. Whether the U.S. will reverse course — or simply adapt to a new normal — remains to be seen.

Attendees at a screening for ReelShort's "Wings Of Fire." Tiffany Rose/Getty Images for ReelShort 2025-06-03T08:42:01Z Save Saved Read in app This story is available exclusively to Business Insider subscribers. Become an Insider and start reading now. Have an account? Mini-drama apps have grabbed Hollywood's attention as they've gained popularity in the US. The apps offer bite-sized, mobile-friendly episodes that people are paying to watch. They could be a low-cost alternative to traditional shows for Hollywood giants. Mini-drama apps made popular in Asia are surging in the US — and Hollywood is taking notice.These apps are best known for their soapy melodramas featuring princes, werewolves, and more, which are presented in bite-sized vertical episodes and meant for mobile phones. China-backed ReelShort is the most prominent purveyor of these, with typical titles like "The Double Life of My Billionaire Husband." Another top player is DramaBox.Hollywood has been trying to figure out how it can capitalize on the mini-drama craze, and studios like Lionsgate have been evaluating opportunities in the space."I get an overwhelming number of questions about this topic every week," said David Freeman, head of digital media at CAA. "Talent is actively exploring the space, creators are drawn to it due to the low cost of content production, and major companies are evaluating their strategic approach."Freeman said some key questions were which categories work well and whether the format could be expanded to the unscripted realm."In time, I anticipate that Netflix will find a way to successfully integrate vertical video and potentially make it part of their strategy to engage Gen Z audiences," he continued.As TV and streaming giants spend more money on sports at the expense of traditional TV and film, producers, studios, and other players are casting around for other entertainment markets and ways to serve audiences on the cheap.Social-media stars have already been getting a second look from Hollywood. And now, so are mini-dramas. Industry players said they'd taken note of the marketing on TikTok that the mini-drama apps are throwing behind their stars.App tracker Appfigures counts 215 short drama apps in the US and estimated US spending on them more than doubled in the past 12 months, to more than $100 million a month in gross revenue. Still from "Breaking the Ice" on ReelShort. ReelShort Hollywood is curious about mini-dramasAgents and others told Business Insider that while Hollywood is buzzing about mini-dramas, companies are generally still in the initial stages of exploring the format. One traditional player that's making concrete moves in the space is TelevisaUnivision. It's planning to debut 40 telenovela-style minidramas on ViX, its streaming platform, and intends to expand to other genres like docs and comedy.Others are at least mini-drama curious. Lionsgate, for one, has been in the early stages of exploring the format, a person familiar with the studio's plans said. Hallmark is another studio that's discussed the format internally, a person familiar with the company's thinking said.Select Management Group, an influencer talent management firm, is looking for mini-drama actors to sign, primarily those prominent on ReelShort.Select's Scott Fisher said verticals have "become another place you find talent," much like YouTube birthed digital stars like MrBeast and Emma Chamberlain.People have questionsDespite Hollywood's interest, it's unclear how these vertical dramas could fit into the traditional film and TV system, which emphasizes high production values and guild-protected talent.And people in Hollywood told BI they had plenty of questions.Here are a few:These mini-dramas often fall below the budget threshold that would trigger certain rules from the Hollywood guilds. But how can legacy companies take advantage of these productions' low costs without alienating the guilds and their members?Soapy melodramas are the most popular form of vertical series, but are they extendable to other genres such as reality TV, docs, and true crime? A+E Global Networks is taking the unscripted route, launching a slate of original series for mobile around its History brand in an effort to reach young viewers.Can they make real money? The appeal is that they're cheap to make, but how big of a business can they be? And what's the right mix of revenue between ads and viewer payments? ReelShort parent Crazy Maple Studio's founder Joey Jia said last year that viewers typically paid $5 to $10 a week.How should they distribute them? TelevisaUnivision has its own platforms to post such shows. But production companies that don't have their own distribution arms could use the likes of TikTok or YouTube and share the revenue with the platform.Are these dramas too far out of Hollywood's comfort zone for it to get right? Hollywood insiders remember how Quibi, Jeffrey Katzenberg's idea to make quick-bite shows, went down in ignominy. The big difference is that Quibi's episodes were more highly produced than today's vertical dramas and didn't employ a "freemium," pay-as-you-go model.'It's just a matter of time' Paramount's "Mean Girls" experiment on TikTok bore some resemblance to mini-dramas. Paramount Pictures Some media insiders think it's inevitable that big streamers and studios will at least test the format's potential.They've already shown some willingness to play with different formats and distribution platforms. For example, Paramount put "Mean Girls" on TikTok in 23 segments lasting one to 10 minutes. And YouTube and Amazon's Prime Video could make sense as distributors because they're already set up as platforms that allow people to rent or buy individual movies or shows."There's just a question of how far are they going to stray from doing what they normally do," Fisher said of the Hollywood players.Industry analyst Evan Shapiro sees mini, vertical-shot dramas as "toilet television," something made for watching on mobile phones and fitting the scrolling mentality. He added that he believes the format is a natural way for companies to incubate shows for TV."It's just a matter of time before you see a drama from one of these players and a fast follow into other formats," Shapiro said. "The big question is, how do we monetize that. But if it takes off, it converts to a premium, wide-screen format for TV."Geoff Weiss contributed reporting.

The Krusty Burger is a health inspector's nightmare, responsible for spawning the Krusty Burger, the Ribwich, The Clogger, and the Steamed Ham (per Principal Skinner). It comes with seven minifigures, including Krusty the Clown, Sideshow Bob, Homer Simpson, and Officer Lou. You can purchase it for $209.99 on June 4, although LEGO Insiders can order the set via Early Access beginning on June 1. You can sign up for free here.LEGO The Simpsons: Krusty BurgerOut June 1 for LEGO Insiders, and June 4 for everyone else.$209.99 at LEGO StoreTo learn more about the set and its creation, we interviewed its designer. Ann Healy is a 39-year-old Senior Model Designer who's worked with the LEGO Group for the past six years. Here, lightly edited for clarity, are her thoughts on creating LEGO The Simpsons: Krusty Burger, the first new LEGO Simpsons set in nearly a decade. What other LEGO sets have you had a hand in designing over the past six years? Healy: I worked for three years on the LEGO Friends line. A few years ago, I got the opportunity to work on a Disney favorite of mine: The Sanderson Sisters’ Cottage set from Hocus Pocus. That project took years in the making to come to market, and I’m quite proud of it. More recently, I have been working on the LEGO Icons team. From last year’s products, I designed the McLaren MP4/4 & Ayrton Senna set and the Poinsettia LEGO Botanicals set.What drove the decision to revive the Simpsons brand after such a long hiatus? Healy: We saw that even after a 10-year stretch since a new Simpsons set, there was still a lot of love for The Simpsons amongst LEGO fans. Our market research showed that there is huge brand loyalty for The Simpsons, appealing to people globally. Designing the Krusty Burger in LEGO brick form serves as a natural continuation of our Simpsons line and gives us the opportunity to make new, never-before-seen LEGO minifigures.LEGO designers often build in their free time, working towards builds that they hope will one day become sets.“Coincidentally, the original Simpsons House and Kwik-E-Mart LEGO sets were some of the last sets I purchased before I knew I would be coming to work at The LEGO Group. In my first week working here, I found an early prototype of the Krusty Burger set on a shelf in our office. For context, LEGO designers often build in their free time, working towards builds that they hope will one day become sets. It gave me hope that someday, I might get the chance to work on something like that. Five years later, to my surprise, our Head of Marketing pulled that same prototype off the shelf and said it was time to revisit The Simpsons! I volunteered right away as a lifelong fan of the Simpsons. I couldn’t believe my luck!Describe the process of designing and building this set as best you can. How many times did you have to build the entire model in the course of finalizing it?Healy: I started with refining and updating the old prototype, figuring out the general layout and developing a building-instruction flow. I worked digitally first, then built the model physically. From there, I would go back and forth between digital and physical, seeing if the model would work with real bricks. We have design team check-ins where I showed progress on the model and got suggestions from our Creative Lead and the other model designers. I had several check-ins with the IP partner, where I would show them the latest updates and they could give feedback on the model and mini figures. I also had internal review meetings with our Model Governance and Building Experience teams, where we build the model, review every construction step, evaluate the play experience and test the strength of the model.I did not keep track of every time I rebuilt the model, but I would estimate at least 20 times. The last time I built the Krusty Burger set was when the first production boxes arrived from the factory. I built it one last time for quality assurance!Krusty Burger isn't a fully realized location in the show in the same way that Moe's Tavern is, or the Kwik-E Mart is, or the Simpsons’ house is. Which TV episodes did you use to map out the Krusty Burger and determine how it's set up? Healy: Disney was a great partner in sending us reference images and layouts when available. Also, I watched as many episodes of The Simpsons as possible, so I could translate the TV animation into a real, physical, toy playset. Season 20, Episode 21, “Coming to Homerica,” is the episode we used the most in reference, because it features the Mother Nature Burger that we reference several times in this LEGO set. The “Ribwich” from Season 14, Episode 12, “I'm Spelling as Fast as I Can,” is also featured. Other referenced episodes of note include: Season 6, Episode 15, “Homie the Clown” – Homer performs at a Krusty Burger Season 12, Episode 13, “Day of the Jackanapes” – Bart and Sideshow Bob go to the Krusty Burger. Season 10, Episode 1, Lard of the Dance” – Homer tries to sell grease from the restaurant.Season 7, Episode 15, “Bart the Fink” – Features the IRS Burger takeover.Season 19, Episode 1, “He Loves to Fly and He D'ohs” – Homer hides in the Krusty Zone ball pit. Season 15, Episode 10, “Diatribe of a Mad Housewife” – Shows the Krusty Burger drive thru sign. Season 21, Episode 4, "Treehouse of Horror XX" – Features the Krusty Burger in “Don't Have a Cow, Mankind.”What's your favorite deep cut Easter Egg in the build? Healy: Above the Krusty Burger drive-thru window, there is a kitchen display screen, showing that someone has placed an order for 700 burgers. This is a reference to the Season 5 episode “Boy-Scoutz 'n the Hood,” in which Krusty has unwisely opened a Krusty Burger oil rig in the middle of the sea.What was the most challenging aspect of designing this build? How were you able to overcome it? Healy: The most rewarding challenge of designing this set was building the Krusty Burger Sign with LEGO bricks. The IP partner paid a lot of attention to the proportions of Krusty’s face within the sign, giving us reference material and tips on how to best capture his likeness. We even got hand-drawn doodles of the Krusty the Clown from them! One of my model-designer colleagues used to work as an illustrator and used his skills to capture Krusty’s features in brick-form even more accurately. In addition, it was challenging to get the heavy Krusty Burger sign to stand up and remain stable on a single axle. Our Element Lead on the design project suggested we use a new element she was developing, an axle sleeve, to increase the weight the rod could hold upright. This new element did the trick.The most rewarding challenge of designing this set was building the Krusty Burger Sign with LEGO bricks.“Is this a one-off revival of the Simpsons brand? Or is this the beginning of a longer partnership, where we can expect to see more LEGO Simpsons themed sets in the near future?Healy: I cannot speculate on future products, per the LEGO Group’s and our partners' policies. Nonetheless, as a huge Simpsons fan myself, I am hopeful that fans have a positive response to this set!LEGO The Simpsons: Krusty Burger, Set #10352, retails for $209.99, and it is composed of 1635 pieces. You can purchase it on June 4 for the general public, or starting on June 1 for LEGO Insiders. You can sign up for LEGO Insiders for free here. And stay tuned! We will be building, photographing, and reviewing LEGO Krusty Burger later this month,Kevin Wong is a contributing freelancer for IGN, specializing in LEGO. He's also been published in Complex, Engadget, Gamespot, Kotaku, and more. Follow him on Twitter at @kevinjameswong.