I Would Rewrite

The tech industry's relationship with the word "open" is like that ex who said they wanted an "open relationship" but actually meant "I want to see other people while you stay committed." On the left, we've got "Open" VPNs with fine print that would make a lawyer blush: "free" (after you pay), "unlimited" (for exactly two people), and source code you can view from such a distance you'll need the James Webb telescope. And then there's "Open" AI on the right—about as open as Fort Knox during a security drill. "Open research" (coming never), "open models" (just trust us, bro), and an "open culture" where sharing is strictly forbidden. After 15 years in tech, I've learned that "open" is corporate-speak for "we'll keep it open until we've captured enough market share to slam the door shut." Classic bait-and-switch, now with 100% more paywalls!

The bell curve meme strikes again. The low IQ folks and the galaxy-brain geniuses have finally found common ground: they both know AI is rotting our ability to think. Meanwhile, the anxious middle is sweating bullets about "staying relevant" and desperately prompt-engineering their way through every task. The dumb ones don't care because they never relied on their brain anyway. The smart ones have seen enough tech hype cycles to know that outsourcing your entire cognitive function to a probabilistic text generator might not end well. But that 68% in the middle? They're mainlining ChatGPT like it's coffee, terrified they'll wake up obsolete if they don't let the robots do their thinking. Spoiler: your brain is a muscle. Use it or lose it. The AI is a tool, not a replacement for actually understanding what you're building.

Someone woke up and chose violence. The goal here is to feed ChatGPT such cursed, chaotic code that it just gives up and starts hallucinating error messages. Think legacy PHP spaghetti mixed with recursive bash scripts, sprinkled with some jQuery from 2009, all wrapped in a Dockerfile that uses FROM scratch unironically. It's like trying to teach a language model by showing it only the worst code ever written. "Here GPT, analyze this 5000-line function with no comments and 47 nested if statements. Have fun!" The AI equivalent of making someone watch every JavaScript framework tutorial from the last decade simultaneously. Bonus points if the repo includes a README that just says "it works on my machine" and a package.json with 300 dependencies, half of which are deprecated.

Nothing says "I understand your job" like a boss who thinks you're just sitting around waiting to review code written by the CEO's latest AI toy. The little robot asking "What is my purpose?" only to learn it's basically a glorified security audit tool for executive vanity projects is peak corporate absurdity. It's that special kind of existential dread when you realize both you and the robot are trapped in the same ridiculous hierarchy - except the robot at least got a straightforward answer about its pointless existence.

ChatGPT just solved a simple algebra problem by literally writing code in natural language. Instead of setting up basic equations (sister's age = 3 when you were 6, age difference = 3, so sister = 70 - 3 = 67), it decided to... evaluate mathematical expressions as string templates? The <<6/2=3>> and <<3+70=73>> syntax looks like some cursed templating engine that escaped from a PHP nightmare. The best part? It got the answer completely wrong. The sister should be 67, not 73. But hey, at least it showed its work using a syntax that doesn't exist in any programming language. Our jobs are indeed safe when AI thinks inline computation tags are a valid problem-solving approach. This is what happens when your training data includes too much Jinja2 templates and not enough elementary school math.

The automobile, the lightbulb, the personal computer—all revolutionary inventions that followed a simple pattern: build something people want, and they'll throw money at you. Fast forward to 2024, and AI companies have somehow reversed this entire business model. They've built products that cost billions in compute and electricity, users absolutely love them, and now they're desperately begging those same users to actually want the product they're already using. The punchline? Every previous tech revolution had investors asking "will people use this?" while AI has investors screaming "PLEASE want this, we're burning through venture capital faster than our GPUs burn through kilowatts!" Training models costs more than a small country's GDP, inference isn't getting cheaper, and somehow the pitch has devolved from "disrupting industries" to "pretty please develop a dependency on our chatbot." Supply and demand just left the chat—along with profitability, apparently.