Before The Beginning Of Time

The classic corporate bait-and-switch! Manager gleefully announces "no more daily standups" like he's bestowing a gift from the heavens, only to reveal the true horror: writing detailed Slack messages every morning instead. The final panels show the developers' brilliant malicious compliance—using ChatGPT to auto-generate those meaningless status updates. This is peak modern workplace evolution: replacing a 15-minute meeting with an hour of typing, then automating away the busywork with AI. The circle of corporate life is complete. The manager thinks he's won, but the devs are playing 4D chess while he's still figuring out how to open Excel.

Ah, the sweet innocence of AI coding assistants. You ask them to fix one simple bug, and they happily fly away while your codebase explodes in the background. Twenty years in this industry and I've learned one truth: the only thing more dangerous than a junior dev with admin access is an AI confidently "helping" your code. The smug little face says it all - "My work here is done!" Meanwhile, you're left explaining to the product manager why the login button now launches nuclear missiles. Classic case of the cure being worse than the disease.

Remember when we actually had to memorize algorithms and syntax? Now my brain's shrinking faster than my will to whiteboard during interviews. The top image shows Homer Simpson's brain scan before ChatGPT, all plump and functional. The bottom shows what's left after outsourcing our thinking to AI - just enough neurons to type "write me a function that..." and hit enter. Evolution in reverse, folks - soon we'll just be fingers attached to a coffee mug.

Ah yes, nothing says "efficient solution" like using a machete labeled "Deep learning" to slice through a tiny piece of bread labeled "Simple problem." The classic case of computational overkill. Why use a simple if-statement when you could train a 500-layer neural network that requires a small power plant to run? Next week: using quantum computing to calculate a 15% tip.

That moment when your revolutionary AI startup's tech stack is just a fancy wrapper around someone else's API. The shocked cat perfectly captures the existential crisis of realizing you're not building the future—you're just paying OpenAI's bills while adding a markup for your investors. But hey, that Series A funding hit your bank account, so who's really winning here?

The robot overlord declares AI will replace programmers if it gets "clear customer needs and detailed specs" while below, a product manager sits calmly stating "the customer want a button that does stuff." Plot twist: programmers' job security isn't threatened by AI but protected by the eternal vagueness of requirements. The mythical "detailed spec" is rarer than a bug-free first commit. Even quantum computers couldn't parse "make it pop" or "just like Amazon but better."