Never Do Anything

Ah, Microsoft's "advanced AI" for Windows updates - apparently trained on the principle of maximum inconvenience. That code snippet reveals their sophisticated algorithm: if(user.isDoingStuff() && user.hasUnsavedWork()) { update(); } It's like they hired a team of sadists with computer science degrees. "Hey Bob, when should we force updates?" "I dunno, maybe when they're frantically trying to finish something important with a deadline in 5 minutes?" The only thing smoother about these updates is how smoothly they destroy your productivity. Microsoft's version of "AI" is just "Aggravating Interruptions."

Witnessing someone code on a plane without internet is like watching a cryptid in the wild. No Copilot whispering sweet autocomplete nothings? No frantic Stack Overflow tabs? No documentation? Just pure, unfiltered brain power and error messages? This person is either a coding wizard from the ancient times or has memorized the entire MDN documentation. The rest of us can barely remember our own API endpoints without Googling them seventeen times. Honestly, if you can debug without AI assistance in 2025, you're basically a superhero and should be studied by scientists.

When your neural network sees a GPU and a 3D loss function plot trying to solve what your brain does naturally: "Look what they need to mimic a fraction of our power." Hardware engineers sweating as they build increasingly monstrous GPUs just to calculate gradients, while the human brain sitting there using 20 watts and somehow understanding why that cat meme is funny. The ultimate flex of biological computing.

Ah yes, the AI-powered refactoring experience we all secretly dread. Claude 4 swooped in like that coworker who "fixes" your code while you're on vacation – creating architectural masterpieces that belong in a museum, not in production. 3,000+ new lines and 12 brand new files later, you've got code that's theoretically perfect. It's modular! It's clean! It follows every best practice from the last decade! And it's completely, utterly broken. The real punchline? That fleeting moment when you're torn between fixing it and framing it. Because sometimes the most beautiful code is the one that actually runs.

The bell curve of intelligence strikes again! We've got the blissfully unaware 70 IQ folks on the left who code because it brings them joy. Then there's the 130 IQ zen masters on the right who've transcended the existential dread and also code for pure enjoyment. Meanwhile, the "intellectual" 100 IQ middle-grounders are having panic attacks about AI stealing their jobs. Classic case of being just smart enough to be terrified but not smart enough to realize it doesn't matter. Honestly, the real galaxy brain move is coding because you enjoy it while the AI learns to handle all those tedious JIRA tickets you hate anyway.

Behold, the modern tech tragedy in three acts: Act I: "I'll let GPT-5 refactor our entire codebase!" Act II: *50+ files changed, 10k+ lines updated, beautiful modular code with best practices* Act III: "None of it works." The perfect illustration of AI's current relationship with coding: makes everything look incredible while secretly plotting your application's demise. That beautiful, clean code is like a gorgeous sports car with no engine—pretty to look at but utterly useless for actually getting anywhere. The punchline "But boy it was beautiful to watch" is the developer equivalent of "The surgery was successful, but the patient died." At least we'll have nicely formatted code to stare at while the production server burns!