Back To The Prompt Future

Ah yes, the terrifying AI revolution that's going to replace us all... with a locally saved HTML file. Nothing says "cutting-edge web development" quite like sending someone a file path that only works on your machine. The future of tech is clearly C:\Users\ben\Downloads\index.html — accessible to literally no one but Ben. Sleep tight, fellow developers. The robots aren't coming for our jobs until they figure out what a web server is.

Future playground insults just got upgraded from "Your mom" jokes to "Your mom codes in VibeCoder" — implying she uses some fictional 2045 programming language that's so outdated or cringe it's basically the equivalent of coding COBOL on punch cards while wearing socks with sandals. The real burn is that by 2045, we'll probably all be begging AI to fix our legacy React code while it silently judges our primitive syntax.

The classic tech panic bait-and-switch! First half: "AI is coming for your jobs, web devs! DSA knowledge? Useless. MERN stack? Dead. Only learn ML and chase whatever shiny new tech appears on the horizon!" Then the punchline drops: "The more terrified everyone is, the fewer people will compete for jobs... which means more job security for me ." It's the programming equivalent of telling kids the ice cream truck only plays music when it's out of ice cream. Pure psychological warfare disguised as career advice!

Ah yes, the mythical beast of modern development - half dog, half ostrich, all ChatGPT. Your codebase is about to experience the "uncanny valley" indeed. One end barks confidently about solutions it doesn't understand while the other buries its head in the sand when debugging time comes. The "OH REALLY?" at the top is what your senior developer mutters when you claim your AI-generated monstrosity is "original work." Next edition will feature a creature that's half Stack Overflow, half deadline panic.

Behold the modern developer experience! Claude 4 AI just swooped in like a digital Marie Kondo, completely restructuring this poor dev's codebase with surgical precision. 25 tool invocations, 3,000+ new lines, 12 brand new files – all to create a beautiful, modular masterpiece that... doesn't actually work. It's the classic "aesthetics over functionality" trap that every developer secretly falls for. We'll spend hours making our code architecturally gorgeous while completely breaking the actual functionality. Because nothing says "senior developer" like admiring non-functional code at 5:55 AM and thinking "but damn, it's beautiful."

That first hit of AI-generated code feels like pure magic. "Look at all this productivity!" Then reality sets in. What AI gives you in quantity, you pay back with interest in quality control. Sure, it wrote 10,000 lines in minutes, but now you're the poor soul who has to untangle that algorithmic spaghetti, patch the security holes big enough to drive a truck through, and explain to management why the project timeline just went from "done" to "we're just getting started." The hidden tax of instant code is always paid in developer tears.