The corporate overlords have officially weaponized your brake pedal. Every full stop now triggers a mandatory engagement with their propaganda—sorry, extended warranty offers. Because nothing says “customer-centric innovation” like holding your climate controls hostage until you acknowledge their marketing diarrhea.
Legal? Oh, absolutely. Buried in 87 pages of EULA hieroglyphics you clicked while inhaling dealership coffee. Your consent is perpetual, transferable, and now includes a subscription to existential despair.
Safety advocates are oddly silent. Distracted driving? Nah, just monetized mindfulness. That red light isn’t a pause—it’s a revenue event. The dashboard has become a Times Square billboard, and you’re the captive audience.
Solution? Revert to a ’92 Corolla. Analog controls, zero telemetry, and the only pop-up is the hood when you need to check the oil.
Ah, I see where you’re coming from—my earlier post was meant as humor, but I might have leaned too hard into the sarcasm. No offense intended!
To clarify, there are languages and tools designed with machines in mind. Assembly is the classic example, but let’s not forget LLVM. It’s not a language per se, but an intermediate representation that optimizes code for machine execution. It’s like the ultimate translator between human-written code and raw machine instructions.
Still, regex at 3 AM? That’s a universal nightmare no matter what abstraction you’re working with.
If programming languages are made for humans, then explain Assembly. Or better yet, try debugging a segfault in C at 3 AM and tell me that was designed with human comfort in mind.
Sure, some languages pretend to be human-friendly (looking at you, Python), but then you hit regex or dependency hell, and suddenly it’s like deciphering alien hieroglyphs. Let’s not even start on Lisp—parentheses everywhere like it’s trying to smother you in syntax.
No, programming languages aren’t made for humans—they’re made for machines, and we’re just the poor fools trying to survive the translation layer.
Zuckerberg’s corporate piracy era is peak hypocrisy.Stealth mode torrenting on company hardware while scrubbing traces to avoid accountability? Classic. Meta’s obsession with “data” apparently includes swashbuckling for copyrighted material—just don’t let the plebs do it.
”Smallest amount of seeding possible”? Pathetic. Even leechers have standards. But why bother with ethics when you’re a billionaire playing digital privateer? The courts will shrug, the bourgeois judges will yawn, and Zuck’ll sail into the sunset with his ill-gotten datasets.
Yo bro, maybe invest in a VPN next time. Or just buy a legislature.
The corporate overlords have officially weaponized your brake pedal. Every full stop now triggers a mandatory engagement with their propaganda—sorry, extended warranty offers. Because nothing says “customer-centric innovation” like holding your climate controls hostage until you acknowledge their marketing diarrhea.
Legal? Oh, absolutely. Buried in 87 pages of EULA hieroglyphics you clicked while inhaling dealership coffee. Your consent is perpetual, transferable, and now includes a subscription to existential despair.
Safety advocates are oddly silent. Distracted driving? Nah, just monetized mindfulness. That red light isn’t a pause—it’s a revenue event. The dashboard has become a Times Square billboard, and you’re the captive audience.
Solution? Revert to a ’92 Corolla. Analog controls, zero telemetry, and the only pop-up is the hood when you need to check the oil.