The 15,000 Traitors

Ah, the sweet innocence of AI coding assistants. You ask them to fix one simple bug, and they happily fly away while your codebase explodes in the background. Twenty years in this industry and I've learned one truth: the only thing more dangerous than a junior dev with admin access is an AI confidently "helping" your code. The smug little face says it all - "My work here is done!" Meanwhile, you're left explaining to the product manager why the login button now launches nuclear missiles. Classic case of the cure being worse than the disease.

Oh. My. GAWD. The absolute BETRAYAL of every AI enthusiast right here! 💔 You spend MONTHS drooling over fancy machine learning algorithms, only to have pure mathematics saunter by with that knowing smirk that says "honey, I was here first." The AUDACITY of math to just show up and remind everyone that all those neural networks are just glorified calculus in a trench coat! And don't even get me started on how we've all abandoned our first love (mathematics) for the hot new thing that's basically just... math with extra steps. The DRAMA! The SCANDAL!

The modern developer's apocalypse: your code is on fire, production is crashing, and ChatGPT just responded with "I'm sorry, but I don't have enough context to debug your specific issue." Meanwhile you're just sitting there, surrounded by flames, eerily calm like SpongeBob, because this is the third time this week and you've transcended panic into a state of zen-like acceptance.

What you're witnessing is the digital equivalent of rehearsing a conversation in the shower. This AI is having an existential crisis over how to respond to a simple greeting, overthinking every social nuance like it's defusing a bomb. Six seconds of computational anxiety just to say "Hi" back. Honestly, more relatable than most of my human interactions.

The classic Dunning-Kruger effect in its natural habitat. When someone's outside your domain, you nod along with the crowd. But the moment they step into your territory? The emperor's new clothes suddenly look like a Halloween costume from the dollar store. Every dev who's had to sit through a non-technical CEO's "revolutionary" ideas about coding knows this feeling. "Let's rewrite everything in a new language!" Sure, and let's also replace oxygen with cotton candy while we're at it. Trust me, if someone's software takes are garbage, their self-driving cars probably aren't making the best runtime decisions either.

The irony is palpable! A job posting demanding "50% of code must be done by AI" while simultaneously requiring you to sacrifice your firstborn to the startup gods. Let me translate this corporate poetry: "We want cutting-edge AI integration, but also need you in an overpriced SF apartment, grinding weekends away while jet-setting to client sites. Your work-life balance? Sorry, that's not in our Jira board." The "vibe coding experience" requirement is just chef's kiss perfection. Because nothing says "we understand modern development" like demanding both AI automation AND soul-crushing overtime in the same breath.