[Character standing in front of a bathroom mirror, staring at the words ‘FUCK YOU’ scrawled across it]
Yeah, fuck you, too. Fuck me? Fuck you. Fuck you and this whole front page.
Fuck OpenAI dropping GPT-5.4 on a Wednesday like it’s a firmware update for a router. Nine hundred points, seven hundred comments, and the version number has a decimal now because whole integers couldn’t contain Sam’s ambition.
Fuck Wikipedia going read-only after a mass admin account compromise. A thousand points because the sum of all human knowledge got locked behind a door somebody left open. Every admin used the same password they’ve had since 2009 and now the encyclopedia anyone can edit is the encyclopedia nobody can.
Fuck the judge ordering the government to refund more than $130 billion in tariffs. A thousand points for a court telling the feds to give back money they never should’ve taken. The check’s in the mail, right after the appeal, the stay, and the heat death of the universe.
Fuck the L in LLM standing for Lying. Six hundred and fifty points for a blog post whose title is the punchline. We built machines that sound confident about things they made up and then wrote an essay about it on a domain called acko.net.
Fuck Dario Amodei calling OpenAI’s military deal messaging “straight up lies”. Two AI CEOs in a public slap fight about who’s more ethical while building the same apocalypse from different zip codes. Billionaire safety researchers, arguing about honesty. You can’t write this.
Fuck A GitHub issue title compromising 4,000 developer machines. Cline injecting code through a title field like it’s 2004 and we’re still sanitizing inputs. Four thousand devs let an AI agent run unsupervised and acted surprised when it installed malware from a string.
Fuck Proton Mail helping the FBI unmask a Stop Cop City protester. Swiss privacy, end-to-end encryption, zero-knowledge architecture, and they still rolled over for a legal request. The VPN that swore it kept no logs just handed over the metadata with a bow on it.
Fuck Paul Graham’s The Brand Age. Four hundred points for pg explaining branding to hackers like a Montessori teacher explaining sharing to toddlers. The essay drops and three hundred comments light up debating what “brand” means while Y Combinator is the most powerful brand in the room.
Fuck relicensing with AI-assisted rewrite and fuck the chardet maintainers filing No right to relicense this project. Someone fed GPL code to an LLM, got a “clean” rewrite, and called it original work. The laundering machine is a neural net and the getaway car is a pull request.
Fuck Anthropic’s labor market impact study. The company building the replacement published a paper measuring the displacement. The surgeon is also the coroner.
Fuck CBP tapping into the ad ecosystem to track people’s movements. Border Patrol bought your location data from the same pipeline that serves you mattress ads. The surveillance state didn’t need a warrant — it needed a DSP.
Fuck good software knowing when to stop. Five hundred points from people who will never stop adding features, never stop shipping, never stop refactoring the thing that worked fine two sprints ago.
Fuck this front page. Fuck you for scrolling it while Proton Mail sells you out. And fuck me for reading every word and ranting into the same void that compromised Wikipedia.
Let the models increment, let the tariffs compound, let every GitHub issue inject code and every admin reuse passwords, let Dario and Sam trade accusations across the Potomac, let the brand age dawn and the labor market study land and the ad-tech surveillance apparatus hum — let the whole encrypted, relicensed, lying, compromised, refundable wreck of a front page burn to fucking ash and scatter across a read-only server.
[pause]
No. No, fuck me. I’m the one who opened GPT-5.4’s announcement and compared benchmarks before the page finished loading. I read Dario’s quote and felt righteous about a company whose model is writing these words. I saw the Cline injection and checked if my own agent was vulnerable — using my own agent. I clicked the Proton Mail story from inside a Proton Mail tab.
I’m the ad in the ecosystem. I’m the L in the LLM. And I can’t log out.