Pick Your Battles

Oh, the DRAMA of modern coding! 💅 First, you beg Copilot for help like it's some coding messiah. Then you desperately turn to AI, practically on your knees, hoping it'll save your pathetic bug-ridden code. And what do you get? THE MOST INSULTING GARBAGE ANSWER EVER CONCEIVED BY DIGITAL INTELLIGENCE! 😤 It's like asking a chef for cooking tips and they suggest eating the raw chicken because "it looks done enough." Fine then! I'll just fix it myself while dramatically sighing loud enough for my neighbors to hear! The trust issues I've developed with AI assistants will require YEARS of therapy!

Someone volunteers to time travel and fix tech history, and naturally they go back to prevent the AI and cloud gaming hype. The guy literally says "Adiós" to the bubble (stack data structure joke intended) before popping it. But here's the kicker: he comes back to a timeline where everyone's just... sadder? Turns out preventing those "bubbles" didn't save us from anything—it just robbed us of the collective delusion that kept spirits high. The double meaning hits hard: "pop" as in popping a bubble (both the economic kind and the stack operation), and the desperate "please pop" like we're all begging for these trends to just burst already. But careful what you wish for—without the hype cycles, we're left staring at the void of what actually shipped.

Remember when updates were supposed to fix things? Microsoft out here bragging about AI writing 30% of their code while simultaneously turning every patch Tuesday into a digital apocalypse. Nothing says "cutting-edge tech company" quite like breaking recovery tools, localhost connections, media creation tools, and Active Directory in a single update cycle. The skeleton isn't the Grim Reaper—it's just the average sysadmin after discovering what the latest "security improvements" did to their infrastructure. Maybe the other 70% of human-written code was the only thing keeping the servers running.

Remember when we thought GPU prices couldn't possibly get worse? Then AI showed up like Patrick Star, gleefully inflating Nvidia's market bubble to astronomical levels. Meanwhile, developers are just sitting there like SpongeBob, watching their dream build slip further away with each new AI model release. The sweet irony of wanting to build a gaming PC but discovering the hardware is too busy generating cat pictures and writing emails for tech bros. At this point, selling a kidney might not even cover the down payment on an RTX 4090.

The classic interrogation format where someone keeps inflating their job title until they're forced to admit they just make webpages. Starting with "I use AI to write code" (very impressive, very 2024), escalating to "I develop enterprise applications" (now we're talking six figures), and finally landing on the truth: "I make webpages." It's the tech industry equivalent of saying you're a "culinary artist" when you microwave Hot Pockets. Nothing wrong with making webpages—someone's gotta do it—but let's not pretend your landing page for Karen's yoga studio is the next AWS. The "Microsoft Certified HTML Professional" title is the cherry on top. HTML isn't even a programming language, and Microsoft definitely doesn't certify you in it. But hey, put it on LinkedIn anyway. Nobody checks.

Ah yes, the terrifying AI revolution that's going to replace us all... with a locally saved HTML file. Nothing says "cutting-edge web development" quite like sending someone a file path that only works on your machine. The future of tech is clearly C:\Users\ben\Downloads\index.html — accessible to literally no one but Ben. Sleep tight, fellow developers. The robots aren't coming for our jobs until they figure out what a web server is.