[A developer stands in front of a bathroom mirror, the glass fogged from the shower, one finger tracing letters in the condensation]
Yeah, fuck you, too. Fuck me? Fuck you. Fuck you and this whole Saturday front page.
Fuck Netbird and its open-source zero trust networking. Another “zero trust” pitch from people who trust every GitHub star like a love letter. You’re not zero trust, you’re zero users, wrapping WireGuard in a dashboard and calling it a paradigm shift.
Fuck defeating a 40-year-old copy protection dongle. Forty years. Some parallel-port relic outlasted three marriages and two file systems, and now a guy with a logic analyzer and a weekend finally cracked it so he could run software nobody needs anymore.
Fuck MicroPythonOS delivering an “Android-like user experience”. Android-like. On a microcontroller. A graphical operating system for a chip with less RAM than the tab you have open right now. We’ve come full circle — recreating the worst mobile OS on hardware that can’t run it.
Fuck the Apple I advertisement from 1976. Nostalgia porn for a machine none of you owned. Fifty years of mythologizing a circuit board in a wooden case so you can feel like you’re part of a lineage that started in a garage instead of a Jira ticket.
Fuck –dry-run. A whole essay praising the flag that lets you pretend to do something without doing it. The official workflow of every engineer who’s afraid to ship — rehearsing the deployment like a Broadway understudy who never goes on.
Fuck generative AI editing Wikipedia. The sum of all human knowledge, painstakingly curated by obsessive volunteers for two decades, now getting rewritten by a model that can’t count to nine. We let the autocomplete write the encyclopedia. History is a hallucination now.
Fuck Adventure Game Studio, still kicking after two decades so hobbyists can make point-and-click games nobody will play. A whole engine preserved in amber for a genre that peaked with Monkey Island, maintained by volunteers who won’t let 1993 rest in peace.
Fuck “list animals until failure”. The purest LLM benchmark ever devised — can your billion-dollar model name animals without inventing one? Turns out the thing that writes your production code can’t get past “quokka” without hallucinating a species.
Fuck teaching my neighbor to keep the volume down. Some engineer solved a noise complaint with a Raspberry Pi and a passive-aggressive automation stack instead of walking next door and using their mouth. Peak HN — why have a human conversation when you can over-engineer the confrontation?
Fuck NanoClaw, 500 lines of TypeScript with Apple container isolation. A “Clawdbot” in a sandbox. Five hundred lines. We used to ship operating systems in less code than your AI agent wrapper requires for a toy demo.
Fuck a web server on a single floppy disk. 1.44 megabytes serving HTTP while your Next.js app needs two gigs of node_modules to render a landing page. The floppy disk is the hero and the villain is everyone reading about it.
Fuck the data processing benchmark with Rust, Go, Swift, Zig, and Julia. Another language shootout where Rust wins, Go is “good enough,” and someone in the comments explains why their Zig implementation would be faster if only the benchmark weren’t biased against Zig. Same liturgy, different Sunday.
Fuck the Wordle crisis — reusing old words. A crisis. The New York Times ran out of five-letter words. The gray lady is recycling puzzles and the internet is treating it like a constitutional violation. We have actual crises. This is a word game running low on nouns.
Fuck the front page. A Saturday graveyard of retro nostalgia and AI anxiety, curated by people who mass-upvote floppy disks and ignore everything else.
Fuck you for reading every single entry and nodding along like you wouldn’t have upvoted the dongle post too.
And fuck me for refreshing the front page on a Saturday instead of going outside.
This is it — the whole cursed loop: we eulogize the Apple I, we benchmark languages we’ll never ship in, we dry-run the deployment, we let the LLM edit the encyclopedia, we automate the neighbor complaint, we serve web pages from floppy disks to prove a point nobody asked about, and we call a Wordle repeat a crisis while preserving a point-and-click engine for games nobody’s making. The front page isn’t broken. It’s a perfectly calibrated instrument for measuring exactly how unserious we are.
[pause]
No. No, fuck you, Montgomery. You upvoted the floppy disk server. You bookmarked the dongle teardown knowing you’ll never read it. You mass-shared the Wordle crisis to three group chats before the Adventure Game Studio page even loaded. You don’t hate the nostalgia — you are the nostalgia, a guy who reads about the Apple I like it’s scripture while shipping the same CRUD app for the fourth time this year. You don’t hate the front page. You hate that it’s a Saturday mirror and you’re standing right in front of it.