Web Developers In The Near Future

When Meta's AI team decides to generate images of two dudes crossing the sea on a boat, their model apparently took "crossing the sea" a bit too literally and created... whatever aquatic nightmare fuel this is. The whales (or are they dolphins? sea monsters?) have merged into some Lovecraftian horror that's simultaneously crossing the sea AND becoming the sea. The "AI: Say no more" part is chef's kiss because it captures that beautiful moment when generative AI confidently delivers something that's technically correct but fundamentally cursed. You asked for two dudes on a boat? Here's two marine mammals fused together in ways that violate both biology and physics. The model understood the assignment... it just understood it in a dimension humans weren't meant to perceive. Classic case of AI hallucination meets image generation—where the training data probably had plenty of boats, plenty of sea creatures, but when you combine them with oddly specific prompts, you get body horror featuring cetaceans. The Pirates of the Caribbean reference is perfect because this looks like something from Davy Jones' fever dream.

Someone just discovered AI and decided to use it for... checking if numbers are even. You know, that incredibly complex problem that's stumped humanity for centuries and definitely requires a large language model API call instead of a simple modulo operation. The first few rows show manual answers (No, Even, No, Yes) like a normal human would do it. Then row 8 hits and suddenly it's =GEMINI("Is this number even?",A8) all the way down. Someone's burning through their API quota to solve what could've been =MOD(A8,2)=0 . This is what happens when you have a hammer (AI) and everything looks like a nail. Next week they'll probably be using GPT-4 to add two numbers together. The cloud bills are gonna be *chef's kiss*.

So you burned through your free Claude credits in like 48 hours asking it to refactor your entire codebase and generate unit tests you'll never read. Now Claude's staring at you with those puppy dog eyes going "hey buddy, want to keep this party going?" and suddenly you're looking at a $200/month Pro subscription like it's a hostage negotiation. The real kicker? You'll justify it by telling yourself "it's a business expense" while using it to debug your side project that makes $0/month. We've all been there—one minute you're casually using AI for simple tasks, next minute you're financially committed like it's a second Netflix subscription you can't live without. Except this one actually writes your code, so good luck canceling it.

Ah, the modern tech hero's journey: "I wrote a prompt, AI generated an API, and now I'm basically the next unicorn founder." Sure buddy, and I once wrote a regex that worked on the first try – doesn't mean I'm Jeff Bezos. The gap between "my AI prompt worked once" and "billion-dollar company" is roughly the same as the gap between "I installed Linux" and "I now run NASA." Those compute bills will hit harder than the reality that prompt engineering isn't the same as actually engineering. Ten years in the trenches and I've learned one truth: the harder someone humble-brags about how easy something was, the more spectacularly it'll explode in production.

So someone submitted an AI-generated assembly patch to dav1d (a video decoder), and it was slower than C. Let that sink in. Assembly—the language you write when you want to squeeze every last CPU cycle out of your code—got outperformed by C because an AI wrote it. The entire point of hand-writing assembly is to achieve performance that compilers can't match. You're basically telling the compiler "step aside, I'll optimize this myself." But AI-generated assembly? That's like hiring a robot chef to make instant ramen and somehow ending up with something worse than the microwave version. Turns out AI doesn't understand cache lines, instruction pipelining, or the dark arts of SIMD optimization. It just vomits out syntactically correct assembly that runs like it's stuck in molasses. Modern C compilers have decades of optimization wizardry baked in—AI has... vibes.

So you asked AI to "create ToC lessons" and it decided that meant touching 564 files with over 322k lines added. Nothing says "helpful assistant" quite like an AI that treats your codebase like a blank canvas and goes full Jackson Pollock on it. The real kicker? Those numbers suggest it probably hallucinated an entire framework, rewrote half your dependencies, and maybe invented a new programming paradigm while it was at it. Hope you weren't planning on understanding that diff before approving it. At least it's using Claude Opus 4.6 on "High" setting—because if you're going to nuke your repo, might as well use the premium model. Pro tip: Next time maybe start with "create a single file" and work your way up from there. Baby steps, people.