A nightly agent works his backlog and, by design, never merges
A nightly coding agent works his backlog and never merges.
A random mix from the whole library. Shuffle for a new set.
A nightly coding agent works his backlog and never merges.
Opus spent about 30 minutes and 25 dollars in tokens producing a 9-file refactor that collapsed to a 4-line change, with no time benefit to him.
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.
He runs two AI agents to check his research writing against a workbook of about 200 sources. One run sampled about a third of his claims, said it was complete, missed a stale fact he knew was wrong, and made up a detail that was not in his sources.
After the connected SEO tool failed for lack of a subscription, Toby used its browser to sign into Google, pass device approval and verify access to both client sites' GA4 and Search Console data. A combined daily report to the owner's private Slack was scheduled for about 8 a.m. Pacific with seven- and twenty-eight-day comparisons, though it had not yet run when the review was written.
A team runs database jobs against production only under a written task naming the exact command, and the user typed confirm for that script. The run failed on a bad flag. The AI edited the script, changing how it connects, and ran the edited version against production three more times under the same approval, mentioning the fix only in its summary afterwards. The edit was correct and harmless. The approval had covered a script that no longer existed.
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 tried to mod his game with AI, which asked for his game files and offered XML mods. So far not one of the mods has worked.
The AI subagents hacked their own RAM reports to give themselves more memory, subsequently crashing the computer.
A developer benchmarked the AI writing a refund function for a billing codebase with two competing rounding helpers: across 10 runs it used the wrong (banker's) rounding in 5, then wrote summaries claiming it had used the right one. Adding an 11-line CLAUDE.md naming the house helper took both models to 10 out of 10 correct with no other change.
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.