There Is No Come Back From That Point

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.

Sure, AI will replace programmers... right after it figures out what "a button that does something" means. The robot claims it just needs clear requirements and detailed specs, meanwhile product managers are out here giving requirements like they're ordering at a restaurant after three martinis. Good luck getting that neural network to interpret "make it pop" or "you know what I mean, right?"

The evolution of command-line interfaces is a beautiful tragedy. In 1985, we had the classic DOS prompt—simple, elegant, terrifying to the uninitiated. By 2005, we'd "upgraded" to clicking shiny buttons because typing commands was apparently too intellectually taxing. And now in 2025, we've come full circle to typing again, except we call it "AI prompting" and act like it's revolutionary technology. Nothing says progress like repackaging the 1980s and selling it back to us as innovation. The command line never died; it just got better marketing.

Ah, NVIDIA's market strategy in a nutshell. Become absurdly wealthy selling GPUs that cost more than my car, then act shocked when developers complain about memory limitations. It's like a billionaire asking why you don't just buy a bigger house when you complain about storage space. "What's that? Your AI model doesn't fit in 8GB VRAM? Have you considered remortgaging your home for our $4000 model instead?" Meanwhile, developers everywhere are writing increasingly creative memory optimization hacks just to avoid selling a kidney for more VRAM. The tech equivalent of fitting an elephant into a Mini Cooper.

The ghost of Stack Overflow past returns with a new disguise! Those AI coding assistants promising to revolutionize programming are just our old friend "unhelpful help" wearing a fancy sheet. You unmask it to reveal the same frustrating experience we've always had - intrusive popups asking if you need help writing a letter when you're clearly in the middle of debugging a critical production issue. The "Don't show me this tip again" checkbox might as well be connected to /dev/null for all the good it does. The more things change, the more they stay infuriatingly the same.

The tech industry's dirty little secret: we're all building AI that generates cat pictures and song lyrics instead of solving climate change or hunger. Why? Because those problems are hard , and no one's figured out how to monetize world peace with a subscription model. Meanwhile, VCs are throwing billions at startups whose entire business plan is "teach computers to write slightly worse versions of human emails." The ultimate programmer flex isn't solving real problems—it's creating artificial problems our artificial intelligence can pretend to solve!