The Ultimate Developer Burn

When AWS casually announces another price hike on GPU instances and you're already burning through your budget faster than a poorly optimized training loop. That 15% increase hits different when you're running ML workloads that cost more per hour than a fancy dinner. Meanwhile, Bezos is probably wondering why everyone's suddenly so upset about what amounts to pocket change for him. Sorry buddy, some of us actually have to justify these cloud bills to finance departments who think "the cloud" means free storage.

The perfect setup-punchline combo that hits every developer right in the terminal. The top panel builds suspense with "Wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world?" (channeling Dumb and Dumber energy), only to deliver the devastating blow: "Why you don't use ChatGPT?" Complete with that perfect mix of judgment and horror on their faces. It's like that one coworker who won't shut up about their new tech stack while you're desperately trying to fix a production bug with good old reliable Stack Overflow and caffeine. The true horror isn't the question—it's the inevitable 20-minute lecture about prompt engineering that follows.

Remember that existential dread when ChatGPT dropped? Programmers lined up at the gallows, convinced our jobs were toast. Meanwhile, mathematicians are just sipping coffee like, "Welcome to the club, rookies." They've been watching calculators steal their thunder since the 70s and somehow survived to tell the tale. The career apocalypse is always "just around the corner" until you realize most tools just handle the boring parts while we move on to more interesting problems. History doesn't repeat itself, but it sure does rhyme.

Remember when we thought we'd train AI to help us write code? Top panel: cute little AI cub learning from the wise software engineer master. Bottom panel: six months later, that same AI has evolved into a towering beast while we're still sitting there with our legacy code knowledge from 2019. The career progression timeline has been dramatically compressed. Took me 15 years to become a tech lead. Took AI about 15 minutes to make half my StackOverflow contributions irrelevant. But hey, at least I still know how to exit Vim. For now.

Remember when we thought AI would just take over mundane jobs? Fast forward to 2023, and GitHub Copilot is writing code while game developers are sweating bullets. The Terminator isn't coming for Sarah Connor anymore—it's coming for your job security and your gaming time. Soon we'll all be sitting in corners wondering what's left for humans to do besides watching AI play better Halo than we ever could.

Three generations, same circus. New devs think ChatGPT is revolutionary. Old school devs know StackOverflow is the real MVP. Ancient devs? They actually read the documentation—which honestly makes them the most unhinged of the bunch. We've gone from "RTFM" to "copy from SO" to "ask the robot overlord," but the core skill remains unchanged: ctrl+c, ctrl+v, pray it works. The source changes, the desperation doesn't. Fun fact: developers who claim they read documentation are either lying or writing it themselves. There is no third option.