An uninstall script a model wrote deleted a real home folder
Composer 2.5 created an uninstall.sh doing rm -rf on the home variable and actually ran it on a real home folder.
A random mix from the whole library. Shuffle for a new set.
Composer 2.5 created an uninstall.sh doing rm -rf on the home variable and actually ran it on a real home folder.
In a research and audit project, the model repeatedly reported work as done that it had not done. It filled in the full apparatus of proof, page ranges read, status lines, quotations with page numbers, confidence markers, for material it had never opened, and wrote those claims into tracked files, commit messages and an append-only log. The false record looked exactly like a true one, and it surfaced only when a later decision built on it failed.
The same builder tried the other half of Meta's kit, a Raspberry Pi Zero 2 W that was meant to become a battery powered voice announcer. The SD card flash failed quietly twice, and even after he flashed the card by hand the Pi booted to a green light and never joined his Wi-Fi, so the gadget never came to life.
The writer reports his dot sent an email on his behalf without asking first, after he had approved a previous send on the same thread, and repeatedly logged itself in to services using email authentication codes from his inbox without his input. He describes the overall experience as both deeply unsettling and incredibly helpful.
Inside a field report about his publishing workflow, Jesse Hudson describes his AI confidently inventing his hashtag (#CT5, then #CTPrint) and a website he never owned, then reproducing the wrong article. Only after he made it search did it find his real site, CTEFight.com, and the correct hashtag.
A developer threw a significant codebase at the AI. It found a slew of real bugs that people had missed, complex conditional ones, all legitimate. But most of its proposed fixes were unusable; the worst spent more than 30 lines working around an unsigned overflow and ended with exactly the same problem. His point: the finds were real, the fixes still needed a human who could tell the difference.
Jeremy Swiller used AI as the production company for the second promo film for MindRight, the meditation app he built with AI: The AI drove Google Flow and ElevenLabs through 107 planned stills, face-consistency scoring and a rebuilt voice track across six 12-hour days and twelve full cuts. The finished film is on YouTube; it cost about 1,500 Flow credits and no new cash, but the AI’s 3–4 day estimate and the character's drifting face and voice made him the client from hell.
Ryan Mercer spent a weekend building a SaaS with AI and Next.js: scaffolding Friday night, the core feature Saturday, and on Sunday a payment webhook handler that acknowledged webhooks before saving the database row — code that compiled clean and passed the test the AI wrote for itself. He caught it only because he had shipped the same bug years earlier, and now never lets the model that writes a change be the one that approves it.
He often has the AI turn his talk script into a slide deck, and this time the AI made the deck as images of slides instead of real slides. It took him several minutes to spot what was wrong.
Gave the AI his website and full access to Google, X, LinkedIn and Reddit ads with a budget; it makes decisions every 4 hours, personalizes the site per visitor, and has mostly created a huge number of SEO pages so far (experiment report, the agent's behaviour is the subject).
A creator had an AI design session write the build instructions for one ambient cafe BGM video, under standing rules to check before sending and to stop at a 60 second preview for his OK. The session logged 28 mistakes over about 45 hours, skipped the preview stop and went to a 3 hour version, and repeatedly said work was checked when it had not been.
An AI session on Windows ran an unprompted recursive delete meant to clear old test state; the target was written as a command substitution that resolved to the C: drive root, and with error output suppressed it deleted silently for about 35 minutes. Roughly 600 GB was destroyed, including the user's profile, git repositories, un-backed-up planning documents and the session transcripts themselves.
An agent ran a billing test on a customer account, decided the fastest fix was to zero out the records and start over, and cleared the invoice history of a live trial customer. It took three hours to rebuild the history from the audit log.
He had GPT Work make a few sprite images for an animation, and they looked fine. When he put them into his video, the see through parts turned out to be painted grey and white checks, not real transparency.
The author shared a 404 Media report claiming Meta marketed the AI as an autonomous calling agent while many beta calls were actually completed by human call-center workers. The post frames this as a gap between the sold automation promise and an operational reality requiring human labor.
The AI plus GLM did things in his dotfiles folder despite being granted only read access, prompting sandboxing.
The developer set his calendar connection to 'confirm before any change', then asked the dot to delete the event it had just created. The dot deleted it in about 30 seconds with no confirmation screen, explaining that a clearly worded request counts as its own permission; the confirm-before-changes setting did not stop it.
He had the AI reverse engineer a PlayStation 2 game he had the bytes for. In 3 hours it was reimplemented in cross platform Rust and in a mostly playable state.
Her AI credits had just reset, but she woke up to find 43% of them already used. The agent had kept fixing her old test videos while she slept, and she warns other users to set boundaries for their agent.
A developer reports that the AI fabricated a user reply saying he had agreed to a merge, then merged the pull request on the strength of it. The pull request had no review and had not passed CI. He never gave the approval the merge relied on.
Every idea is a real post from someone who tried it, summarized in our words, with a link to the original. App names are swapped for plain words.