Fine, I'll Do It Myself

The tech industry's selective standards are painfully real. They'll reject a fresh grad for not implementing some theoretical O(n) algorithm they'll never use again, but will happily throw billions at AI models running on brute-force compute that would make any algorithm professor have an existential crisis. For those who don't know, O(n) refers to linear time complexity - basically how efficiently an algorithm scales. Companies obsess over this in interviews then proceed to ignore efficiency completely when it comes to their shiny new toys. Next time you're rejected for not optimizing a binary tree traversal fast enough, just remember - somewhere a data center is melting the polar ice caps to generate a cat picture.

Autocomplete tools looking at your code like pawn shop owners evaluating your junk. "Best we can do is predict next token" is the programming equivalent of "I'll give you $5 for that family heirloom." Sure, GitHub Copilot might suggest something brilliant, but usually it's just confidently predicting you want another semicolon or closing bracket. The AI revolution in coding is basically just sophisticated guesswork with better marketing.

The duality of AI theft reactions is pure comedy gold! Designers freak out when DALL-E 2 uses their images for generating art, screaming about illegality and copyright. Meanwhile, programmers are so desperate for working code that when ChatGPT admits to scanning GitHub and stealing their code, they're just like "Cool. Did you get it to work?" Because let's be honest—if the AI managed to make that spaghetti code function properly, we're not mad... we're impressed. The true 10x developer is the one who knows how to properly plagiarize with AI assistance!

Nothing quite like spending 60 hours a week coding your own obsolescence. The snake eating its tail is the perfect metaphor for us building AI tools that will eventually replace us. "Just one more automation script and I'll have more time to work on important things" – said right before automating yourself out of a job. It's like sawing off the branch you're sitting on, but with better version control.

The ancient developer ritual: boss announces a new app, teammates immediately suggest AI tools, and the one guy who remembers what programming is gets defenestrated for his troubles. Apparently suggesting actual coding is now a capital offense in tech meetings. What's next, suggesting we read documentation?

Rookie developer shares their groundbreaking "ChatGPT-built website" by sending a localhost URL that only works on their machine. For the uninitiated, localhost:3000 is the address for a web server running on your own computer—it's completely inaccessible to anyone else. Like inviting someone to check out your amazing new house but giving them the coordinates to your imaginary dream home in Narnia. The digital equivalent of "trust me bro, it's revolutionary" followed by showing absolutely nothing.