This Shit Again

The eternal struggle of being the tech person at a social gathering. There you are, trying to enjoy dinner with your spouse when suddenly their friends ambush you with questions about some obscure tech they heard about on a podcast. DeepSeek-R1 is actually a large language model (like ChatGPT's cousin), but to non-tech people, it might as well be alien technology. Meanwhile, your spouse has seen this movie before and knows exactly how the next hour of conversation will go—you reluctantly explaining machine learning concepts while your food gets cold. Ten years in the industry and I'm still the default tech support/explainer at every gathering. The dog represents my inner self—just wanting to be petted and fed treats instead of discussing transformer architectures over appetizers.

The dystopian nightmare has arrived! Behold the new job title of our generation: "Prompt Engineer" – that poor soul desperately begging an AI to spit out valid JSON without hallucinating random garbage. Look at those tears! That's the face of someone who spent 6 years getting a Computer Science degree only to end up writing "bro please" and "I'm begging you" in their prompts. Their entire career now hinges on whether ChatGPT wakes up feeling cooperative or chaotic that day. We've gone from writing code to writing prayers to the AI gods! The ultimate career downgrade – from software developer to AI therapist/beggar.

Someone needs to tell Elon about the exponential growth of node_modules folders. While AI might be growing fast, any JavaScript developer knows the true speed champion is watching your disk space vanish as soon as you run npm install . That 5MB project somehow needs 500MB of dependencies, and God help you if you're on a slow internet connection. The real technological singularity isn't AI - it's when a single node_modules folder finally consumes all available storage on Earth.

Oh look, it's the modern developer's daily ritual! That moment when you check what you stepped in and discover it's not regular garbage—it's AI Generated SQL . The perfect representation of what happens when you let AI write your database queries. Sure, it looks like SQL from a distance, but examine it closely and you'll find a horrifying abomination that would make even the most battle-hardened DBA weep. Nothing says "I've made terrible life choices" quite like debugging code that was hallucinated by an algorithm with the database knowledge of a caffeinated squirrel. Next time just write the query yourself, unless you enjoy explaining to your boss why the production database is suddenly identifying as a toaster.

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.

The modern developer dichotomy in its full glory! Up top we've got the polished, well-groomed developers who just copy-paste from Stack Overflow, Google search results, and ask ChatGPT to fix their bugs. Meanwhile, the documentation readers below look like they've been coding for 72 hours straight, sustained purely by Monster Energy and sheer determination. Reading docs is apparently the programming equivalent of staring into the void until the void stares back. The best part? Those documentation demons probably write better code than the rest of us combined. Choose your fighter: pretty but dependent, or unhinged but powerful.