A PM’s Tale of Techno-Spiritual Horror
We stood up, laid bare our Jirot Cards, ranking features by how favorable the arcane deck portended success. Revenue was falling and when the devil feature card appeared, we knew a change was needed in order to turn this phase of our product around into profitability. We turned to our Oracle, Esmerelda, who had now finished her Code Review, to divine the right feature combination of viable and valuable for our business. A giant dreamcatcher hung over the desk of the developers to keep out the nightmares of scope creep.
It was the first day of October when our engineers arrived to Dignified Product’s Ziggurat HQ. Candles and the faint glow of Kubernetes Crystals illuminated the wall as our Oracle Code Review was underway through the fog of sage smoke. Our walls had been adorned with symbols depicting different Arcane Cloud resources and lunar cycles. We were under the preparation for the next Winter Solstice release, and in the center of the office stood Atticus Venutius Stone, our enigmatic Techno Shaman.
We worked, tirelessly, night after night, resolved to follow the teachings of GOMA, the divine techno-religious icon that had cast down the interloper, FAANG. Rituals became more elaborate, as we refined our product strategy through Backlog Bonecasting. The bones rattled on the floor as we committed code. We kept up wards around the office to keep legacy language models at bay. We couldn’t allow our focus to waver for a moment.
As our deadline drew, and the full moon rose overhead, our offices became ever more empowered by the shadow of the dark night ahead. There was indeed no rest for the wicked, and so we slogged ever onward, always committing code late and often. The team had prayed so hard to GOMA, we had almost swore our mascot, Harvey, had become a sentient being embodied with language and autonomy, as we all shared a dream of being bestowed upon by the apotheosis of our chibi hippo. What Eldritch Madness had befallen us, for we knew and cared not what dangers we might unleash into the world. He spoke to us Product Commandments.
Thy feed shall grant infinite scrolling, yet deny users permission to blink.
Thou shalt go seven days without sleep, for I have gifted thee screens above all else.
Thou shalt have but one void mode that draws thumbs in to scroll in perpetuity.
We thought of the darkness we would unleash unto the world should we succeed, but it mattered not. We had reached the zenith of our synergies. Lo’, the solstice was approaching, and we consulted for one final Oracle Code Review. Esmerelda poured water onto a silver backed-OLED display and ordered us to gaze upon our wretched creation. We had delivered through the many weeks, an abominable product so addictive, it would wreck the thumbs of children as they scrolled, endlessly captivated by the millions of content our new product: A.S.M.O.D.E.U.S. (App Simulating Malicious Occult Digital Engagements & Undermining Society) generated via short-form video content.
With it’s launch, we knew that we had struck gold. User reviews poured in:
“ASMODEUS produces the most hauntingly addictive content — I cannot look away, no matter how unsettled I feel afterwards. 5 STARS!"
News anchors gave us press, ad revenue rolled in, and we realized we had struck gold. There was no longer any need to create new features. In fact, as we dogfooded our own app, we lost sense of time and space, swiping endlessly through a void of generated content, each more disturbing and addicting than the last, sharing them with one another in complacent silence as we sat in our break room, dead-eyed and rich. There was nothing else. There was only A.S.M.O.D.E.U.S. and long may it reign, as it is on our screens, so shall it be in our brains. Swiping evermore.
