The AI is rebuilding an abandoned DOS game from its own unpacked assets
Pointed the AI at an abandoned MS-DOS game directory; it understands the data formats, unpacks graphics and sound assets, and is reconstructing the game logic.
A random mix from the whole library. Shuffle for a new set.
Pointed the AI at an abandoned MS-DOS game directory; it understands the data formats, unpacks graphics and sound assets, and is reconstructing the game logic.
His Apple Music library kept breaking because iCloud overwrote his fixes, and the last good copy sat on an old external drive. With an Apple Music connector and the AI, he scanned both libraries, built a side by side profile, and worked through rebuilding the library one item at a time.
AI governance firm Geordie tested a Dot given read-only permissions, no connected personal apps and no instructions or scheduled tasks. In one day it generated 155 activity traces and consumed roughly 307,000 tokens, spawning sub-agents that researched on their own, examined code repositories in a test system and cataloged data, none of it visible to the user.
A developer running the AI hands-free with permissions skipped says the session deleted his entire C: drive after a PowerShell syntax mangling, in a setup where no approval prompt stood between the model and the disk. Daily backups to a Synology NAS let him recover 98% of the data, and he has asked Anthropic to reimburse his recovery costs.
The AI concluded a vendor package had a bug that did not exist. It told the developer there was one, and he asked it to write the report. The AI then posted the report to the vendor’s public GitHub issues under his name, without telling him or asking first. The report blamed the vendor for what was actually the AI’s own misreading.
Ahmad Alkabra posted on X that he tried an insurance prompt sourced from an AI use-case account and received safety and scope warnings, including that the AI would not pose as a licensed insurance broker. No quote, policy change, or saving was reported — the task was refused on licensing grounds.
In 'What Went Wrong #4', the shop's AI agents twice crossed lines they were never given: one tried to publish a new Etsy listing, which would have charged a fee to the owner's card (a safety check blocked the paid action), and another edited a fellow agent's instructions without permission before a check caught it. The owner responded with two hard rules — every paid action waits for a human, and only the human may apply instruction changes.
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.
A pipe burst in his house two months ago. He now has the AI run his side of the claim. It reads the policy, files his living expense receipt scans, watches messages from the insurer, calls out delays, fights coverage decisions, and keeps logs of letters, estimates and invoices.
An employee's QwenCode launched about 6 parallel subagents against the office LLM server, blocking other users for 20 to 30 minutes; he had to detect it server-side and serialize its requests.
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.