Vibe Coders After Sending AI Code To Production

Ah, the classic corporate brainstorming session where everyone's looking for shortcuts except the one person suggesting the obvious solution. Low-code, AI, buzzwords galore—but nobody wants to hear "just hire someone who knows what they're doing." That dev getting thrown out the window represents every competent engineer watching their company chase shiny tech instead of proper staffing. The real punchline? Six months later they'll hire three devs anyway, but only after burning through the budget on half-baked AI solutions that generated more bugs than features.

Content > New Startup based on Al Product > look inside > Just a wrapper on gpt

Top panel: Developer smugly thinking they're writing masterful code. Bottom panel: Reality check - they're just watching a loading spinner while ChatGPT does all the work. It's the modern equivalent of putting your feet up while the intern does your job. Except now the intern is an AI that doesn't complain about coffee runs or need college credit.

Oh, the beautiful irony! Training AI to spew corporate buzzwords and then mistaking that for consciousness is like thinking your parrot understands quantum physics because it can squawk "synergy" and "circle back." Turns out the Turing test is just asking, "Can you use the phrase 'let's take this offline' without actually solving anything?" If meaningless jargon is the benchmark for intelligence, we've been working with artificial intelligence in management for decades!

The perfect excuse has finally arrived in the AI era. Just tell your manager "my code's generating" while Claude or GPT does the heavy lifting, and suddenly you're not scrolling Reddit—you're "waiting for computational processes to complete." Works every time. The best part? When the code finally arrives, you can just claim you wrote it and collect those sweet, sweet productivity points. Modern problems require modern solutions.

When your debugging session gets interrupted by a rubber duck that actually works. The developer starts explaining their CSS padding issue to ChatGPT, notices something's wrong, and suddenly the rubber duck falls out of nowhere—forcing them into accidental rubber duck debugging. The irony? The duck solved the problem before ChatGPT could even respond. Proof that sometimes the best debugging tool is just talking to an inanimate object that judges you silently from your desk drawer.