The Heresy Of Manual Coding

Two doors. One leads to "Working on Real-World Projects" and stands completely empty. The other leads to "Next AI/Data Bootcamp" with a line stretching to the horizon. Everyone's rushing to become the next AI guru while actual project experience collects dust. The tech industry's version of a Black Friday sale – except what they're fighting for is just another certificate to add to their LinkedIn profile.

Grammar correction in the wild. King declares himself "the dumbest man alive," only to be immediately dethroned when someone mentions "AI prompt engineering is the future." The true champion of ignorance has been found. Happens to the best of us—one minute you're the dumbest person in the room, then someone walks in talking about their revolutionary prompt that just says "make it good" with fifteen exclamation points.

Foreign intelligence agencies are having their easiest day ever. Nothing says "career suicide" quite like uploading Department of Defense codebase to a random AI app with a blue whale logo. The intern's about to learn why security clearances exist and why "helpful" free apps are sometimes just fancy honeypots. Next week's headline: "Former intern seeks asylum in country with no extradition treaty."

Ah, the classic LinkedIn clickbait switcheroo! Someone's proudly announcing their addiction to the "PORN stack" - which turns out to be P ostgreSQL, O penAI, R eact, and N ext.js. The perfect tech stack for your resume and guaranteed heart attacks for HR departments everywhere. Bonus points for the 703 reactions from developers who nearly spat out their coffee before realizing it's just another tech acronym. Job recruiters must be having a field day with their keyword searches!

Rookie developer shares their groundbreaking "ChatGPT-built website" by sending a localhost URL that only works on their machine. For the uninitiated, localhost:3000 is the address for a web server running on your own computer—it's completely inaccessible to anyone else. Like inviting someone to check out your amazing new house but giving them the coordinates to your imaginary dream home in Narnia. The digital equivalent of "trust me bro, it's revolutionary" followed by showing absolutely nothing.

That first hit of AI-generated code feels like pure magic. "Look at all this productivity!" Then reality sets in. What AI gives you in quantity, you pay back with interest in quality control. Sure, it wrote 10,000 lines in minutes, but now you're the poor soul who has to untangle that algorithmic spaghetti, patch the security holes big enough to drive a truck through, and explain to management why the project timeline just went from "done" to "we're just getting started." The hidden tax of instant code is always paid in developer tears.