Over the weekend, AI suddenly became an essential service rather than a vaguely interesting but distinctly dangerous one. Then I wondered, what does Perplexity think about me? I asked it to look at each of my blogs: Create a bio, assess writing style, and …
I asked if it thought I was funny. Short answer, NO.
The first few responses were interesting. I asked about each blog separately. thecorefiles is written by Nicole, a front-end dev based in London who loves coffee and photography. thetmpfiles is written by James, a back-end dev and technology enthusiast based in Berlin who loves cycling and coffee. Well, it got ONE thing right in both cases!
I asked it to put all the responses together as a blog post in my voice. The results are interesting–including sus word choices like giggles. Now over to you, Plex!
Am I Funny? (Or How AI Thinks I’m Not)
You know you’ve reached a new level of digital existence when an AI politely reviews your entire public presence and concludes—with great technical decorum—that you are, at best, subtly humorous. Apparently my taste for dry asides and the occasional deadpan remark is insufficient for the algorithmic giggle-meter. Do I find this funny? Honestly, yes. There’s something delightful about being profiled by a genre-blind digital analyst—especially when you spend most of your time demystifying things for humans and computers alike.
On Clarity, Structure, and Making Things Make Sense
If this blog has a mission, it’s this: take what’s daunting, and make it not only doable, but obvious. I try to write every post the way I want solutions to appear when I’m trawling documentation at 2AM—straightforward headers, focused bullet points, and zero fluff. Markdown isn’t just a format; it’s a philosophy. Use headlines when you mean it, use lists when it helps, and don’t waste anyone’s scroll with empty talk.
The best writing—dev or otherwise—finds the sweet spot between technical precision and clear, accessible explanation. Whether I’m knee-deep in React edge cases, sorting out DevOps pipelines, or sharing a three-paragraph tale of how my Skyrim character lost all his gear (again), I aim for a tone that’s supportive but efficient. If you walk away from a post thinking, “I get it now—plus, I actually know what to do next,” I consider that a win.
Subtle Humor (Woven Carefully, Like a Deprecated Import)
So, about my sense of humor—let’s call it pragmatic with a touch of dry seasoning. It emerges not as punchlines but in the odd turn of phrase, the occasional footnote, or how I’ll name every throwaway test project, “untitled-final-really-final-3.” In tech, a bit of gentle wit goes a long way, especially when you’re explaining why something that “should just work” absolutely does not (and hasn’t since 2017).
I don’t trade in one-liners, but I do enjoy finding small absurdities in the things we all tackle as developers, writers, and hobbyist storytellers. And if the AI can’t quite pin down that sense of play? Well, that just means I’m still unpredictable—at least to a non-human audience.
The Big Picture: Empowerment Over Ego
At the end of the day, it’s not about whether my jokes land or if the blog has a punchy tagline. I care more about leaving you—yes, you—better equipped, less mystified, and maybe a little more entertained (even if that’s just from the narrative whiplash between code blocks and dragon-slaying anecdotes). If subtle humor is how I keep things readable, and structure is how you get to the fix faster, then that’s my style, and I’m sticking to it.
And maybe one day, when AI learns the fine art of the sarcastic code comment, it’ll finally recognize what all the humans have been quietly giggling about.