I Use Vim Btw

The glorious devolution of programmers in one perfect meme! Back in the day, developers were apparently coding demigods who wrote flawless code without AI assistance, built entire games in Assembly (because apparently pain was recreational), crafted mission-critical code for literal rocket science, and fixed memory leaks by manipulating pointers like digital surgeons. Fast forward to today's reality: we're all just brain-melted zombies Googling how to center divs, begging ChatGPT to fix our syntax errors, getting permanently trapped in Vim like it's some kind of developer purgatory, and introducing three new bugs while fixing one. The perfect representation of how we've gone from programming titans to helpless tech gremlins dependent on Stack Overflow life support. The most painful part? This is exactly the kind of self-deprecating humor we all share on LinkedIn while pretending we're still the "Devs Then" in our job applications.

The existential crisis of Vim is too real. Imagine being one of the most powerful text editors in existence only to discover your primary purpose is opening config files that other devs forgot how to exit from. The robot's enlightenment moment hits hard because let's face it - we've all installed Vim, struggled with it for 20 minutes, then used it exclusively for editing Docker configs and Git commit messages for the next 7 years. The true tragedy isn't that Vim lacks purpose - it's that its incredible power is wasted on us mere mortals who just want to change one line in our .bashrc without having to Google "how to quit vim" for the 600th time.

The perfect metaphor for the Vim user in every dev team. While everyone else is silently mourning the death of simplicity in text editors, that one developer just has to announce their undying loyalty to Vim. It's like a funeral for normal editing workflows, and the Vim enthusiast still can't resist the urge to tell everyone about their 47 custom keybindings and how they can delete a word with "diw" faster than you can reach for your mouse. The coffin might as well contain the remains of productive team discussions that don't devolve into editor wars.

Remember when programmers were basically digital demigods who could craft mission-critical code for lunar missions without breaking a sweat? Yeah, me neither. Today's reality is more like staring blankly at a screen, asking ChatGPT to fix our semicolon errors while we're trapped in Vim because apparently that's still a thing in 2024. And let's not forget the classic "fix one bug, spawn three more" - nature's way of keeping us humble. The golden age of programming never existed. We just replaced "I don't know how to do this" with "I don't know how to ask AI to do this for me."

Google's passive-aggressive suggestion is the digital equivalent of a parent saying "I'm not mad, just disappointed." The eternal editor war continues as Google clearly takes sides in the Vim vs. Emacs holy war. Searching for Emacs only to be met with "Did you mean: vim" is like telling a Star Wars fan you prefer Star Trek—fighting words in certain circles. The editor rivalry is practically ancient in tech years, with developers forming tribal identities around their text editor of choice. Clearly, Google's search algorithm has chosen the cult of Vim, and isn't afraid to evangelize even when you're explicitly looking for its sworn enemy.

Evolution of programmers: from creating their own compilers and bragging about government surveillance to being completely dependent on Stack Overflow and trapped in Vim. Left: The chad programmer of yesteryear, writing low-resolution 3D engines and custom compilers while casually mentioning CIA surveillance like it's a badge of honor. Right: Today's programmer, desperately googling "how to exit vim" for the 47th time while clutching a coffee mug and whimpering for help. The Spotify icon in the corner is just *chef's kiss* - because nothing says "productive coding session" like spending 30 minutes creating the perfect lo-fi playlist. Fun fact: The ":q!" command to exit Vim has been responsible for more developer tears than any code review in history.