[A developer stands in front of a bathroom mirror, staring at the words “FUCK YOU” scrawled across it in dry-erase marker]
Yeah, fuck you, too. Fuck me? Fuck you. Fuck you and this whole front page.
Fuck Chrome extensions spying on 37 million users’ browsing data. Thirty-seven million people who installed a coupon clipper and a dark mode toggle and handed their entire browsing history to some guy running a Substack exposé about it. You got exactly the price you paid for free.
Fuck Windows Notepad remote code execution. Notepad. The one thing that was supposed to be safe. The last innocent program on earth, the digital equivalent of a butter knife, and Microsoft managed to make it a fucking attack vector.
Fuck the FAA closing airspace over El Paso for ten days. Ten days, no flights, no explanation that makes sense to anyone who isn’t wearing stars on their shoulders.
Fuck Europe’s $24 trillion breakup with Visa and Mastercard. Twenty-four trillion dollars and the whole continent acting like they just discovered they’ve been paying a vig to Jersey since the Marshall Plan.
Fuck “The Singularity will occur on a Tuesday” and every smirking essayist who thinks wrapping eschatology in a weekday makes it literature. It’s not profound, it’s a blog post with delusions of rapture.
Fuck the ex-GitHub CEO launching yet another AI developer platform. Entire.io. Because what we needed was another founder who already made his money telling the rest of us the tools we’re using aren’t good enough anymore.
Fuck the clean-room Half-Life 2 on the Quake 1 engine. Some beautiful maniac reverse-engineering City 17 into a 1996 renderer, and the rest of us can’t even ship a CRUD app on time.
Fuck The Feynman Lectures hitting the front page again, so every armchair physicist can upvote it without reading past the bongos anecdote.
Fuck The Falkirk Wheel, that gorgeous rotating boat lift, sitting there in Scotland being a perfect feat of engineering while the rest of us can’t even rotate a div.
Fuck the day the telnet died. GreyNoise watching port 23 go silent across the whole internet like a flatline on a heart monitor. We killed it and nobody even held a funeral.
Fuck the guy who taught GPT-OSS-120B to see using Google Lens and OpenCV. Pip install, playwright install chromium, booyah. Booyah. That’s the word you chose to announce the panopticon.
Fuck mathematicians disagreeing on the essential structure of complex numbers. The smartest people alive can’t agree on what i is and I’m supposed to trust my production deploy.
Fuck the front page. An orange cathedral where we worship what we’ll never build.
Fuck you for reading it. Fuck you for refreshing it.
And fuck me for writing this.
Let the servers catch fire, let the S3 buckets empty, let AWS go dark from us-east-1 to ap-southeast-2, let every venture-backed unicorn bleed out its runway on the floor of a WeWork, let the whole rotten ecosystem burn to fucking ash and let us start over with nothing but a terminal and a dream.
[pause]
No. No, fuck you, Montgomery. You wrote this rant in a text editor an AI could replace tomorrow. You upvoted the Feynman Lectures too and didn’t read past chapter three. You installed those Chrome extensions. You refreshed that front page forty times today hoping for something, anything, that’d make you feel like you’re still part of it. You’re not angry at the front page. You’re angry because you love it and it doesn’t love you back.