The Great Browser Betrayal

The classic delusion of programmer exceptionalism, beautifully illustrated by Buzz Lightyear's character arc. At the top, we have the confident declaration "I'm a programmer, I am rare, pay me more" – the battle cry of every dev who just learned their first framework. Meanwhile, the bottom shows the harsh "Reality": shelves stacked with identical Buzz figurines, representing the actual job market flooded with programmers who all think they're special snowflakes. The tech industry's favorite fairy tale: believing you're a unique space ranger when you're actually mass-produced in a factory called Bootcamp™. Your "rare" skills? Yeah, there are about 10,000 Medium articles teaching those exact same skills to everyone else right now.

Look at this poor dev crawling desperately toward their framework lifelines. The modern web developer's equivalent of withdrawal symptoms. "Just one more component library, I swear I can quit Angular anytime!" Remember when we built websites with just HTML, CSS, and vanilla JS? No dependency hell, no 500MB node_modules folder, no "npm audit fix" nightmares. Those were simpler times. Now we've created generations of devs who break into cold sweats at the thought of writing a querySelector instead of using their precious framework's state management. The irony is we've come full circle - the "revolutionary" solutions all eventually try to mimic the simplicity we abandoned in the first place. Yet here we are, crawling back to our framework overlords because god forbid we handle DOM updates manually.

The classic regex lifecycle in three simple steps: start with one problem, apply regex thinking it's the solution, end up with two problems. And yes, the plural of regex is absolutely "regrets" – a truth universally acknowledged by anyone who's ever tried to debug a pattern that worked perfectly in the testing tool but somehow fails spectacularly in production. It's like watching someone reach for regex to parse HTML. You want to stop them, but it's already too late. Their soul now belongs to the matching group demons.

Samson lost his power when his hair was cut. Achilles was invincible except for his heel. And junior programmers? They're completely defenseless against Webpack and Docker. Nothing quite like watching a new dev's soul leave their body during their first container orchestration meeting. "Just configure your dependencies in the yaml file" might as well be "just perform brain surgery with a spork." The real hero's journey isn't slaying monsters—it's surviving the first deployment without having an existential crisis.

The circus of frontend development in four acts. First, we're applying basic makeup with web apps. Then we're adding a bit more flair with React's "seamless" UI promises. By the third panel, we've gone full clown with React Native's write-once fantasy. But the final transformation? Finding out Windows Start menu is supposedly React Native. That's when you realize you've been part of the circus all along. The progression from "this makes sense" to "dear god what have we done" is the true frontend experience.

Ah, the ultimate JavaScript framework showdown, but make it feline! From left to right, we've got Deno (orange cat with asterisk), Webpack (black cat with bundle symbol), Astro (gray cat with blue star), and Svelte (black cat with Svelte logo). These cats perfectly capture the backend of web development—showing you exactly what happens when frameworks turn around and present their assets . Webpack is busy bundling everything into one giant hairball, while Svelte stays slim and compiled. Meanwhile, Astro's just island architecting in its own universe, and Deno's over there promising it won't access your file system without permission. Four butts, four frameworks, infinite dependency conflicts.