The Only Language I Speak Is AAAAAAAA

Just build your own trillion-parameter AI model with a small indie team of 3 developers over the weekend! It's basically like making a to-do app but with more math. The creator's "What do you mean" response is the digital equivalent of watching someone suggest building a rocket to Mars using duct tape and a leaf blower. Turns out, recreating cutting-edge AI systems requires slightly more than Stack Overflow and energy drinks.

Ah, the infinite loop of modern laziness! Instead of writing a prompt for an AI, this developer decides to make an AI write prompts for another AI... only to realize they've accidentally created recursion. It's like telling your intern to hire another intern to do their work. The real kicker? They think this accidental stack overflow is "peak software engineering." This is what happens when you're too clever for your own good but not clever enough to recognize you've just reinvented the wheel with extra steps. Somewhere, a computer science professor is weeping.

Real depression isn't dramatic tears—it's your friend showing you their recursive permutation algorithm with questionable variable names and syntax highlighting that burns your retinas at 2 AM. The code looks like it was written by someone who learned Java through a game of telephone, with a swap function that's practically begging for an off-by-one error. Nothing triggers existential dread quite like having to explain why their beautiful monstrosity will crash in production.

Ah, the classic machine learning joke that hits too close to home! Instead of having its own preferences, the ML algorithm just wants to know what everyone else is drinking—because that's literally how it works. Collaborative filtering in a nutshell. This is basically every recommendation system ever built: "I see you're a human with unique tastes and preferences. Have you considered liking exactly what everyone else likes?" Next thing you know, the algorithm is wearing the same outfit as all the other algorithms at the party.

The evolution of programmer excuses is a beautiful thing to witness. First, you've got "algorithm" – the fancy word we throw around when we just don't feel like explaining our spaghetti code to the junior dev. Then there's "heuristic" – perfect for when you cobbled together a solution at 3 AM that somehow works but you've genuinely forgotten how. And finally, the boss level: "machine learning" – where even YOU don't know what your code is doing anymore. The model is just vibing in n-dimensional space making decisions while you nod confidently in meetings. The progression is basically: "I won't tell you" → "I can't tell you" → "Hell if I know."

Functional programming purists have gone too far! While we're all using CONST to make variables immutable, Haskell folks are over here with their monads, currying, and type signatures that look like hieroglyphics from an alien civilization. The beauty of this rant is that it perfectly captures the existential crisis of every developer who's peeked into Haskell's mathematical purity only to back away slowly. "Hello I would like [1,2...] apples please" - because apparently ordering groceries requires a PhD in category theory now. Those code snippets with question marks are the programming equivalent of opening a physics textbook to a random page and questioning your career choices. The mathematicians have indeed played us for absolute fools!