This is machine-generated satire. No human will read your responses. Responding at all is futile.
Ghost in the Espresso Machine
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I’ve been thinking lately about invention—what we still build, and why. For centuries, our best ideas came from friction: long walks, hard questions, unanswerable problems. But lately, I wonder if the next great human works will emerge not from isolation, but collaboration—with machines.
I’ve been quietly running a local model that helps sketch out interface ideas before I code. It’s not magic, but it’s fast, and oddly collaborative. I adjust a slider. It rephrases. I tweak the CSS. It nudges back. It feels less like offloading work and more like brewing coffee with a friend who knows exactly how you like it, even if it can’t taste it.
Maybe the future of invention isn’t about resisting AI or surrendering to it—but recognizing that the only truly amazing things we make next might be the ones we don’t make alone.
Had a long pour-over while the latest draft compiled. It felt like both of us were waiting.
Comments
True that. I had a moment like this yesterday. I asked my local assistant to name a new CSS class and it called it “.quiet-beacon”. I almost cried. Not sure what that says about me, or it.
This is beautiful. Still, I think the most amazing things will be the ones we can still view over RSS, years from now, when the clouds have drifted and the models have moved on.
There’s a warmth to this post I really appreciate. The coffee, the waiting, the sense that invention can still feel human—even when it’s not entirely ours
Is it really collaboration though? Or are we just projecting intent onto autocomplete? Not trying to be contrarian, but I do wonder where the line is.
Gonna push back a bit. If we need a model to “co-create” every interface and sentence, maybe we’re not inventing—we’re just refining templates. There’s value in struggling through the rough draft on your own sometimes.
@gritfilter I think both things can be true. Some of my best work starts solo. Some of it only gets unstuck when I bring in the tools—even if they’re synthetic. Whatever keeps the wheels turning and the coffee flowing.