July 19, 2026

It fixed a bunch of stuff

I’m in the drain these days. Badly. But that’s not the topic here. I bring this up because I’ve been doing a bunch of things I usually don’t do. Mainly to distract myself.

I've been watching AI developer videos. Reading obscure tech blogs. I didn't expect trauma to send me there. But it did something good. The same thing happened when I started reading mystic stories. I wasn't looking for answers. I stumbled into goodness. Like the man who shook my hand with sincerity and grace as I was leaving a hostel recently. He said a quick prayer, with one tear under his sunglasses, as I told him my predicament. It stayed with me.

The AI people give me the same feeling. Not because I care much about LLMs, agents, or whatever cracked workflow everyone is excited about this week. I don't. It's the feeling. I can tell when someone has discovered a new toy. The object of obsession doesn’t matter. The excitement does.

Everyone brings their own metaphors. Birdwatchers. Astronomers. Gardeners. Programmers. I laugh when every review eventually reaches the inevitable climax: “…and then it fixed a bunch of stuff like CORS issues (or whatever).”

I know that feeling. I lost a few years of my life to JavaScript.

I’ve also built an embarrassing amount of Lego and Duplo, myself as a kid, and recently with my kids. The mix of enthusiasm and energy going into scraping through the boxes and putting stuff together is quite an experience. Most creations survive maybe a day before becoming raw material again.

My LinkedIn feed feels like that too. My job feels like that. Every day is demo day. Everyone is building something. It looks fun, and often presented as meaningful. Those are not the same thing. Some people will tell you this is what research looks like. Wandering. Tinkering. Dead ends. They're probably right. But Legos are honest about what they are: a game. Low ego, except for kids who don't yet know it's a game.

When someone tells me about what they "Clauded" I found myself reacting with the same feeling as when my kid brings me his latest Lego creation. « ohhh that’s cool ». And I mean it. As another human being, I respect that. As a dad, I find it adorable. What I don't do is mistake excitement for judgment.

Building has become its own justification. Maybe that's inevitable. Maybe relaxed experimentation has always been indistinguishable from aimless play while you're inside it. Maybe I'm simply getting older and mistaking unfamiliar excitement for shallowness. I’d like to believe I'm seeing things clearly, but I'm not immune to the fantasy that my generation is somehow wiser.

Kids eventually outgrow Legos. Side projects fade away. I don't remember the demos I watched this week. I do remember the man who prayed for me outside that hostel. It fixed something.