Programming Is Googling

The modern developer's balancing act, visualized with stunning accuracy. That precarious tower of cans represents what's actually holding up your code—a foundation of ChatGPT at the bottom (let's be honest, it's writing half your functions), Google searches above it (for the errors ChatGPT creates), followed by pure dumb luck, ancient GitHub repositories you found at 3 AM, and tutorial videos from that one Indian guy who explains algorithms better than your $200K computer science degree. And finally, at the very top, desperately balancing on this tower of digital desperation? Your actual code—looking just as confused as that dog wondering how it got up there and how long before the whole thing collapses during the next sprint review.

Content CANDIDATE 1: 6 YEARS AT LAST POSITION AS FULL STACK DEV - IMPLEMENTED SEVERAL PROJECTS FROM THE GROUND UP ACROSS MANY TECHNOLOGIES CANDIDATE 2: 1YEAR AT AMAZON OR GOOGLE WORKING ON A TINY SUVER OF ONE PIECE OF A HIGHLY SPECIALIZED SYSTEM

Content Is programming all about copy-pasting these days? Vladislav Zorov, programming enthusiast. Answered 19h ago No, man, it's about pulling in 200MB of NPM packages for a function that pads a string to the left. And another 200MB for a function that pads it to the right. Then adding React, Angular and VueJS, because you couldn't decide which one to use, running that crap through WebPack, and deploying some sty website that needs more RAM than a triple-A game. 3.6k Views View Upvoters View Sharers Upvote 214 Share 000 ProdrammerHumor.io

Content IN THE BEGINNING, THERE WAS THE HEAVEN AND THE EaRTH BUT THe EARTH WAs FORMLESS AND BUGGY, wIThoUt DOCUMeNtaTIon AND THE PROGRAMMER SAW THAT IT WAS NOT GooD. THEN YOU SAID "LET THERE BE LIGHT!" BUT THE LIGHT DID NOT COMPILE. YOU CREATE A HACK SO THAT LIGHT IS PART OF THE LAND TO CREATE DARKNESS YOU NEED TO HIDE THE LAND, But That's OK Cause CREATURES WON'T BE ADDED UNTIL LATER.

Content Apple when foreign governments exploit a buffer overflow exploit in iOS for the 38284th time

Opening that GitHub repo after half a year feels like deep-sea archaeology. The code is some ancient artifact, buried under 3775.6 meters of mental context you've completely forgotten. You stare at your own comments thinking "What kind of sleep-deprived maniac wrote this?" before realizing it was you, at 2AM, fueled by energy drinks and misplaced confidence. The worst part? That brilliant architecture you were so proud of now looks like someone let a neural network write code after training it exclusively on Stack Overflow answers from 2011.