There’s something deeply unsettling about our current media landscape when ChatGPT’s opinion on a politician’s medical report becomes headline news. The fact that we’re turning to AI to validate what our own eyes can plainly see speaks volumes about where we are as a society.

Working in tech, I’ve witnessed firsthand how AI has evolved from a fascinating curiosity to a source of perceived authority. But here’s the thing - ChatGPT is essentially a sophisticated pattern recognition system. It’s not a medical expert, and it certainly shouldn’t be our go-to source for fact-checking physical examination results.

The developer tools landscape never ceases to amaze me with its constant evolution. Recently, I stumbled upon an interesting discussion about a new whiteboard IDE that combines Excalidraw’s canvas capabilities with Coder’s development environment management. The concept immediately caught my attention, particularly because it addresses a pain point I’ve experienced during remote collaboration sessions.

Working from my home office in Brunswick, I’ve often found myself juggling between different tools during technical discussions. There’s usually a whiteboard app open in one window, VS Code in another, and perhaps a terminal somewhere in the mix. The idea of combining these elements into a single, cohesive interface is genuinely exciting.

Looking through recent online discussions about AI companions has left me both fascinated and mildly disturbed. The conversation has shifted from whether we’ll have AI friends to which type of AI we’ll be interacting with - work AI, friend AI, or perhaps something more intimate.

The tech industry’s rapid push toward AI companionship reminds me of those early days when chat rooms were the new frontier of digital socializing. Remember when meeting people online was considered weird and potentially dangerous? Now we’re contemplating relationships with artificial beings, and somehow that feels more socially acceptable than chatting with strangers on IRC in the 90s.

Reading through some online discussions about workplace fashion disasters has brought back memories of my two decades in IT consulting. The stories range from mildly amusing to absolutely gobsmacking, and they’ve got me thinking about how our understanding of “professional attire” has evolved over the years.

The tech industry has always been more relaxed about dress codes compared to traditional corporate environments. Working from my CBD office, I regularly see suited-up financial types walking past our building while my colleagues and I sport everything from smart casual to what could generously be described as “startup chic.” But even in our relaxed environment, there’s still an unspoken line that shouldn’t be crossed.

Reading through financial forums lately has become a peculiar form of self-torture. Between the endless parade of inheritance announcements and the “humble” brags about astronomical salaries, it’s starting to feel like scrolling through Instagram’s highlight reel - but with dollar signs instead of sunset photos.

The other day, while sipping my morning batch brew and scrolling through yet another post about a 30-something receiving a generous inheritance, something clicked. These forums have morphed into a strange kind of financial voyeurism, where we peek into others’ monetary lives, often to our own detriment.

The tech world is buzzing with Google’s latest move to integrate Gemini into Google Sheets, and honestly, it’s both exciting and slightly terrifying. While scrolling through various online discussions about this development, I noticed a mix of reactions ranging from jubilant celebration to existential dread about job security.

Looking at the demos, it’s fascinating to see how Gemini can handle natural language queries in spreadsheets. Want to know which names in your list represent basketball teams? Just ask. Need sentiment analysis on customer feedback? There’s now an AI function for that. The potential applications seem endless, particularly for those of us who’ve spent countless hours wrestling with complex Excel formulas.

The latest breakthrough in water filtration technology using modified graphene oxide should be cause for celebration. Finally, a solution to remove those pesky forever chemicals from our water supply! But scrolling through various online discussions about this development left me with a familiar sinking feeling in my stomach.

Reading about this revolutionary filter immediately transported me back to the countless tech announcements I’ve witnessed over my decades in IT. The pattern is depressingly familiar: a groundbreaking solution emerges, promises are made, and then the reality of implementation hits - usually right in the wallet.

The other day, while scrolling through various online discussions about AI art and ChatGPT, something caught my eye - a fascinating metaphor about AI being like a mirror maze in a forest. The imagery struck a chord, particularly as someone who’s spent decades in tech watching various innovations come and go.

The metaphor itself is beautifully crafted: an ever-expanding mirror maze built in the heart of a forest, where humanity enters with wide-eyed wonder, only to find itself increasingly lost among the reflections. What’s particularly interesting isn’t just the metaphor itself, but the discussions it sparked. Some saw it as Orwellian commentary, while others pointed out something far more intriguing - that AI might simply be reflecting our own anxieties back at us.

Living through these times of rising costs has turned many of us into amateur economists, constantly calculating and comparing prices. The recent discussions about unit pricing and food-saving apps have got me thinking about how shopping strategies have evolved beyond the simple “buy in bulk” mentality of previous decades.

The Too Good To Go app has been making waves lately, particularly with Bakers Delight joining the platform. While picking up some heavily discounted sourdough from their Carlton store last week, I chatted with the staff about how much food typically gets wasted at closing time. It’s heartbreaking to think about perfectly good food ending up in landfill, especially when so many people are struggling with grocery bills.

The internet never forgets, and it certainly has a way of catching out politicians who haven’t quite mastered the art of social media. Today’s serving of political comedy comes from the Young Nationals, who seem to have taken a page from the “How Not to Use Social Media” handbook by accidentally praising themselves from their own account.

This gaffe immediately reminded me of similar incidents we’ve seen before, including that memorable moment when another politician congratulated himself on Facebook. It’s like watching someone trip over their own shoelaces – embarrassing, but you can’t look away.