My copilots invented their own sorting methods that didn't sort. Inputted non-existent function names. Windsurf cheerfully discarded the contents of multiple functions and replaced them with 'your code here' because the context became too complex. It's like an over-enthusiastic junior who sometimes has brilliant insights, but also regularly blindly copy-pastes code that turns out to be complete nonsense. Windsurf even managed to write Python code in a JavaScript file. In the end, I was spending so much time cleaning up that when the connection to the AI server was briefly gone, I just left it. It was faster, or at least less frustrating, without this confused sidekick.
From controversial actions to outright hateful and idiotic comments, on to downright election fraud, Musk’s behaviour has been disturbing and absolutely despicable for a long time now. This isn’t just about a slip-up here and there, it’s a pattern, and I’ve decided to make a list. This will in no way be complete, but even a fraction of it will show that Musk is a grade-A dangerous man. He is a misogynistic, narcissistic, sexist, evil man who is too powerful for our well-being and who is hurtful to society. When you or I get irritated, we might hurt someone’s feelings. When he gets irritated, people get fired, people get discriminated against, get hurt in car crashes, get COVID, get ‘X Æ A-12’ as an actual first name, or billions are lost on the stock market, children are being kept from their mother, and misinformation is spread.
I spent the following day roaming through the valley. I stood beside the sources of the Arveiron, which take their rise in a glacier, that with slow pace is advancing down from the summit of the hills to barricade the valley. The abrupt sides of vast mountains were before me; the icy wall of the glacier overhung me; a few shattered pines were scattered around; and the solemn silence of this glorious presence-chamber of imperial Nature was broken only by the brawling waves or the fall of some vast fragment, the thunder sound of the avalanche or the cracking, reverberated along the mountains, of the accumulated ice, which, through the silent working of immutable laws, was ever and anon rent and torn, as if it had been but a plaything in their hands.
Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable. At friendly meetings, and when the wine was to his taste, something eminently human beaconed from his eye; something indeed which never found its way into his talk, but which spoke not only in these silent symbols of the after-dinner face, but more often and loudly in the acts of his life. He was austere with himself; drank gin when he was alone, to mortify a taste for vintages; and though he enjoyed the theatre, had not crossed the doors of one for twenty years.
Every time I ascended to the deck from my watches below, I instantly gazed aft to mark if any strange face were visible; for my first vague disquietud
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