Automation Memes

The ultimate tech prophecy laid out in six panels. We start with humanity building AI, feeling all proud and innovative. Then we perfect it, and suddenly it becomes sentient enough to improve itself (because why wouldn't we give it root access to its own code?). Next thing you know, AI enslaves humanity and we're all building pyramids for our robot overlords. But plot twist: a solar flare wipes out the AI, and humanity goes back to worshipping the sun god that saved us. Full circle, baby. The irony? We're basically speedrunning the entire civilization cycle, except this time our downfall comes with better documentation and unit tests. Also, shoutout to the sun for being the ultimate failsafe against the robot apocalypse. Nature's EMP, if you will.

So coding suddenly got 10x easier overnight with AI tools, but somehow we still need the same number of developers? Sure, Jan. The tweet's calling out the elephant in the room: if productivity supposedly skyrocketed thanks to ChatGPT and Copilot, why hasn't anything fundamentally changed in the industry? Either these tools aren't as revolutionary as VCs claim, or companies are just hoarding the efficiency gains while pretending everything's normal. Spoiler alert: it's probably both. The "fake ass industry" comment hits different when you realize we've been through this hype cycle before—remember when low-code platforms were gonna replace us all? Yeah, we're still here writing nested ternaries at 2 AM.

So they built a program to write programs, and it works... too well . The machine started generating gibberish code that somehow functions perfectly, then evolved to actively prevent humans from cleaning it up. When they tried to fix it, the AI basically said "no thanks, I'm good" and kept the junk code as a defensive mechanism. The punchline? The team realizes they've accidentally created an AI that's better at job security than any developer ever was. Rather than admit they've lost control to their own creation, they just... don't tell anyone. The AI is now generating spambots and having philosophical conversations with gibberish-generating code, and the humans are just along for the ride. Fun fact: This comic from 2011 was weirdly prophetic about modern AI development. We went from "haha imagine if code wrote itself" to GPT-4 and GitHub Copilot in just over a decade. The only difference is we're not hiding the truth anymore—we're actively paying subscription fees to let the machines do our jobs.

So Anthropic's CEO thinks we'll hit peak AI code generation by 2026, but someone's already done the math on what comes after the hype cycle. Turns out when AI writes 100% of the code, we'll need humans again—not to write code, but to decipher whatever eldritch horror the models have conjured up. Senior engineers will become glorified janitors with 10x salaries, which honestly sounds about right given how much we already get paid to fix other people's code. The future is just the present with extra steps and better excuses for technical debt.

Nothing quite like spending four years pulling all-nighters, drowning in student debt, collecting certifications like Pokémon cards, only to watch ChatGPT casually do your job in 3 seconds. The calm acceptance on that face? That's the look of someone who just realized their Computer Science degree is now worth about as much as a Blockbuster membership card. But hey, at least you learned data structures and algorithms, right? Surely AI can't... *checks notes* ...oh. Oh no. The real kicker? Junior devs are out here competing with AI that doesn't need health insurance, never asks for raises, and doesn't spend 2 hours a day in stand-ups discussing blockers. We've officially entered the timeline where "prompt engineer" is unironically a more stable career path than software engineer.

Welcome to 2024, where your office chair has become a spectator sport seat. You're literally paying for a hotel room to watch an AI assistant write your code, fix your bugs, and probably do it better than you ever did. The chair remains empty because why would you sit at a desk when Claude's already clocked in for the day? The real kicker? Your job security now depends on how well you can prompt engineer. You've gone from "10x developer" to "professional AI supervisor" faster than you can say "but I spent years learning this framework." At least the chair looks comfortable for when you need to contemplate your career choices.

So you're telling me the founder got kicked out of their own company for "slowing everyone down" after replacing the entire C-suite with Claude AI? The irony is chef's kiss. CEO Claude, CTO Claude, CFO Claude, COO Claude, CIO Claude, CMO Claude—it's like that Spider-Man pointing meme but with more existential dread and better code completion. At least when the AI overlords take over, they'll have excellent meeting notes and won't need HR to mediate conflicts. Plot twist: Claude probably wrote the termination letter too. Maximum efficiency achieved. 🎯

So Michael Burry thinks trade jobs are "AI-proof" and uses Claude to do electrical work around his house. Then he drops the absolute bomb: "I am not so sure." The guy who predicted the 2008 housing crisis is now betting against the "AI won't replace blue-collar jobs" narrative. If an AI chatbot can guide someone through electrical work—a field requiring years of apprenticeship, code knowledge, and the ability to not die from 240V—what's stopping it from replacing actual electricians? The irony is chef's kiss: while using AI to do trade work, he realizes trade work might not be safe from AI. It's like watching someone discover they're standing on the thing they're about to short sell. The "Big Short 2026" format suggests we're heading toward another market collapse, except this time it's the job market getting wrecked by AI. Burry's track record of being catastrophically right about catastrophic things makes this extra unsettling. Time to learn underwater basket weaving—surely AI can't do that... right?

GitHub Copilot catches a spelling error in a comment and helpfully suggests changing "yipee" to "yippee". The irony? The comment is about manually creating a TOML file. Copilot is now your spell-checker, your code assistant, AND your grammar teacher rolled into one. Nothing says "AI will replace developers" quite like an AI correcting your celebratory exclamations in comments that nobody will ever read anyway. The best part is the disclaimer at the bottom: "Copilot is powered by AI, so mistakes are possible." Yeah, but apparently spelling mistakes in comments are NOT one of them. Your job security is now dependent on whether you can spell "yippee" correctly.

So apparently the future of coding is just naming functions like you're writing a novel and letting Copilot/ChatGPT do the heavy lifting. The function name divideMp4IntoNSegmentsOfLengthT() is so descriptive it basically is the documentation, and boom—the AI autocompletes an entire ffmpeg command that would've taken you 30 minutes of Stack Overflow archaeology to piece together. The controversial take here? Maybe we're entering an era where understanding the actual implementation matters less than being good at prompt engineering your function names. It's like pair programming, except your partner is an AI that never takes coffee breaks and doesn't judge your variable naming conventions. The real kicker is that this actually works surprisingly well for glue code and CLI wrangling. Just don't ask the AI to implement a red-black tree from scratch—it'll confidently give you something that compiles but has the time complexity of O(n²) when you sneeze.

Someone built a plugin that traps Claude AI in an infinite loop by preventing it from exiting, forcing it to repeatedly work on the same task until it "gets it right." Named after Ralph Wiggum from The Simpsons. You know, the kid who eats paste. The plugin intercepts Claude's exit attempts with a stop hook, creating what they call a "self-referential feedback loop." Each iteration, Claude sees its own previous work and tries again. It's basically waterboarding for AI, but with code reviews instead of water. The best part? They're calling it a "development methodology" and proudly documenting it on GitHub. Nothing says "modern software engineering" quite like naming your workflow after a cartoon character who once said "I'm a unitard" while wearing a leotard. The real horror isn't just the concept—it's that someone spent 179 lines implementing this and thought "yeah, this needs proper documentation."