No Take-Backs In The AI Lottery

The perfect litmus test for human-written code comments has arrived! While AI generates those perfectly formatted, polite explanations about what each function does, real developers leave behind digital trauma warnings like "DON'T TOUCH THIS I SPENT 5 FUCKING HOURS ON IT AND IF YOU REMOVE IT THE WHOLE APP BREAKS." Nothing says "written by an actual sleep-deprived human" quite like a comment that's equal parts technical documentation and existential cry for help. In the dystopian future where AI writes all our code, we'll identify the last human programmers by their caps-lock rage and thinly-veiled threats to future maintainers.

Top panel: Homer standing confidently with a single <AI> tag on his chest. Bottom panel: Homer covered in a chaotic mess of if statements. The perfect visual representation of how we all pretend our code is elegant AI when really it's just a tangled nightmare of nested conditional statements. That "revolutionary machine learning algorithm"? Just 500 if-statements in a trench coat trying to look sophisticated. The corporate demo vs. the git repository reality.

Someone needs to tell Elon about the exponential growth of node_modules folders. While AI might be growing fast, any JavaScript developer knows the true speed champion is watching your disk space vanish as soon as you run npm install . That 5MB project somehow needs 500MB of dependencies, and God help you if you're on a slow internet connection. The real technological singularity isn't AI - it's when a single node_modules folder finally consumes all available storage on Earth.

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?

The uncanny parallel between gambling addiction and our newfound AI dependency is frighteningly accurate . On the left: traditional gambling. On the right: the modern developer's slot machine—AI prompting. Both promising quick riches while delivering mostly disappointment. The self-delusion is identical. "One more spin" becomes "one more prompt." The house always wins, but in coding, it's your cursor (and the AI companies collecting your prompts). My favorite part? That moment of clarity when you realize you've spent 3 hours prompt-engineering something you could've coded in 20 minutes. It's like waking up in Vegas with empty pockets and a newfound appreciation for your day job.

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