blogposts on luis angel ortega

The lack of joy in the era of generative artificial intelligence

hey@luisangel.me (Luis Angel Ortega) — Fri, 03 Oct 2025 17:00:00 +0000

Recently I was remembering the famous painter Bob Ross’s program: The Joy of Painting. For 30 to 40 minutes, Bob taught us step by step how to turn a blank canvas into a work of art. Along the way he reminded us that it’s okay to make mistakes and that anyone, if they wanted to, could follow his steps and create the same artwork. This American program was broadcast on public television channels in that country, and on Reddit there are testimonials from people who did manage to recreate these paintings, proving that Ross was right when he said “imperfection is what makes something beautiful, that’s what makes it different and unique from everything else.”

I’ve rarely tried to paint, but I related this feeling to programming. It took me three years of college to find my taste for it, but as time went on I began to find topics that passionate me and to appreciate other people’s code: seeing the way someone solved something particular after spending a couple of hours reading code in their repository, the difference between libraries that solve the same problem and, of course, seeing something I had created after hours being used by other people.

At the same time this was happening, I was given the opportunity to be a mentor in a high school robotics club. This consisted, mostly, of teaching the fundamentals of programming with Java and using the libraries the robot needed. That was my first experience in front of a group, I had no idea how to teach a class so the first sessions were just presenting a topic, just like in university. The problem is that due to their age, and the time I had to teach the class, I couldn’t maintain their interest and those who paid attention to me didn’t quite understand the topic. Looking for a way to communicate with them, to speak the same language, I realized that a love for anime was the common denominator among all of us in that classroom. So I began to change technical terms or generic exercises for examples related to anime: the exercise to practice conditionals went from being a grading system to a simplified dating simulator. Objects went from being cars or animals to character archetypes in anime. With this I managed to connect with them and they managed to learn what I wanted to teach them. This planted the seed of wanting to teach.

Several years after graduating with my bachelor’s degree, I had the opportunity to teach a subject for the same program I had graduated from, a former professor (now colleague) of mine had recommended me for it. I gladly accepted and began teaching in the same way I had done with the robotics club: as best I could. With this group I found the common language differently, giving them the opportunity to express themselves uncensored in front of me and offering them my advice in the academic and work environment. That semester I was among the ten best-rated professors in the Engineering Coordination, so this year I started my master’s degree in education, with a focus on online education. I was sure that, while it wouldn’t be my full-time job, I had been wanting to teach for years. Now we’re mid-semester with the second group I’m teaching this subject to but things couldn’t be more different.

In one year, the artificial intelligence landscape has advanced a lot. A whole lot. Both technically, with more models, larger and more tools to use them, and in people’s confidence with them. A year ago, at work, I used to use some LLM to get me out of some doubt, solve an error or create a small block of code. Now, the same company gives us tools so that, with the right ticket, we just give the instruction to the chatbot and supervise it while it solves the ticket in its entirety. Outside of work, I implemented a script to update the “latest reads” section of the blog according to my Raindrop account. I went from idea to execution in an hour, but I didn’t feel any sense of accomplishment for having done it.

My students now use some form of generative artificial intelligence in all the assignments and projects in the class. The exercises (designed to make them reflect, research a topic or learn to use a tool) go: from the school platform to a chatbot and back to the platform. You can rarely see that the students did most of the work, most just read the response that the models generated for them. Some don’t read it, they just copy, paste and, if they have to present it, they read the slides.

At work, used the right way, artificial intelligence is more efficient for me and for the company. It gives me a better work-life balance. In the same way, why wouldn’t my students use it in class? They turn in what I ask for, they solve the problems and before the exam they study enough to pass. The only thing left out of the equation is the joy I felt for teaching. This semester, I’ve rarely felt it, and, on those occasions, it was with activities precisely designed so that students couldn’t use any LLM. But those activities are difficult to conceptualize, especially in this area.

I don’t know if it’s my failure as a teacher, for not trying hard enough. I don’t know if it’s lack of knowledge. In the master’s program, I’ve understood that it’s necessary to learn how to teach. I don’t know if my students shouldn’t use artificial intelligence in school, since it’s something they’re going to have to use in the workplace or they’ll be at a disadvantage. I don’t know if it’s the system, which has to be reformed in the face of a paradigm shift. The only thing I know is that I no longer feel the joy for programming or for teaching. There are no longer, as Bob Ross said, mistakes that are just happy accidents.

Originally published on El telar blog

Goodbye Nextra, hello Hugo

hey@luisangel.me (Luis Angel Ortega) — Wed, 31 Jul 2024 17:00:00 +0000

This blog has been abandoned for years at this point. Since I stopped writing on Aviyel, I haven’t done anything very technical, and for more personal writings, I’ve been advised not to publish them online as freely as I used to, because some submissions consider a story “published” if it’s available on a website.

That doesn’t mean I’ve lost interest in the topic during these years; quite the opposite. Thanks to Hacker News and Mastodon, I’ve discovered a bunch of blogs that I love and that have inspired me for the next stage of my own.

The Big Static Site Generator Change

Previously, my website used Nextra and was hosted on Vercel. Honestly, this combo made development and deployment very easy, as well as adding my custom domain. But since I adopted Nextra in a very early stage, customization was minimal. Now it seems more focused on project documentation pages, and the style can be changed through Tailwind helpers.

Even so, during my inactive time, I came across Hugo and started playing around with it. I created several test projects with different themes and goals as practice, and while Hugo has many advantages in terms of speed for generating the website thanks to being built in Go, what caught my attention was the number of pre-made themes and how easy they are to customize. From simple things like colors or other styles via a CSS file to being able to modify essential parts of the theme like headers, the navbar, and the RSS feed. I finally settled on the hugo-classic theme with modifications to everything mentioned above.

For hosting, I switched from Vercel to GitHub Pages for the convenience of having everything related to the blog in one place. The domain migration wasn’t complex but had its details—nothing that deleting all the records in Porkbun and adding them again couldn’t fix. On the other hand, deployment was more complex. Hugo has a guide in its documentation on how to deploy through an action, but in my opinion, it’s incomplete. It misses things like ensuring to include the git submodule if using a theme, among other small tweaks you might need. As of writing this, the site is free of these types of errors, although there are still some style issues on mobile screens.

Overall, despite the multiple attempts it took to get the site up correctly, I’m very happy with the new setup and recommend it to anyone thinking of following this path.

The New Blog Organization and Philosophy

When I first created the website, I didn’t have much experience reading or following other people’s blogs, so I structured it as best I could. Now things have changed; I know what I like and don’t like, what and how to share.

For now, the layout of the pages will be as follows. Since the main focus of the site is as a blog, the most extensive section will be the writings. Although the RSS feed will group all posts in one place, I didn’t want them to live like that on the site. Blogposts will be for these types of things—simply writings into the void of the internet. Articles are for guides and more technical stuff. Reviews are for writing about movies, books, games, etc. Finally, Works are for my published pieces, though at the moment there’s only one, I hope it will be one of the most extensive.

Outside of the writings, Projects is a showcase of my work, like a small CV of my online footprint. About Me is, well, a short biography, and finally, The Garden is something strange and complex, but basically, it’s where everything else lives. Honestly, it’s the best section.

In the index, I also list what I’m “doing”—what I’m playing, reading, listening to, and watching. It’s just a way to share what I’m passionate about at the moment, with the hope that many of those bullet points will turn into reviews. It also has my latest readings, articles that I find interesting to share and/or comment on.

As for the blog’s philosophy, specifically with the “blogposts,” I want to write more. I want to capture the spirit of the blogs I follow with how they share things, without necessarily writing essays or technical guides. I’d also like to write more reviews, share my notes, my favorite quotes. Stop consuming without thinking.

In summary, I want the page to be an excuse to keep writing and sharing.

Finally, I’m doing this because I no longer enjoy social media as much as I used to. What was once Twitter has fragmented, Facebook and Instagram have a horrible feed full of ads. Really, where I spend my time now is YouTube and TikTok.

Besides the fact that it’s just not the same anymore, knowing that all my contacts see what I publish in their feed has made me hesitant to post. Here, it’s still public; I can keep sharing the things I’m passionate about without the certainty that everyone will see it. Everyone can see it, but no one is forced to.

This post was just to share these thoughts, document the change this page has gone through—a rant and monologue into the air. I don’t have a real conclusion, so I’ll leave it at that.

The Best Part of School Is Recess

hey@luisangel.me (Luis Angel Ortega) — Tue, 11 Aug 2020 13:50:59 -0500

Today I read a poem by Jaime Sabines, one of his verses said the following:

    “The best part of school is recess,”
    says Judit, and I think:
    when will life give me a break?
    Damn! I’m tired. I need
    to die for at least a week.

These words echoed in me, I also want to die for a week so that I can wake up, and more importantly maintain, the spirits and mental clarity I experience from 8:30 to 9 in the morning, while I read (the time when I read this and other poems, by the way) and listen to music.

But the truth is that I have been dead for more than a week, 140 days to be exact, or at least that’s how it feels. I want to go to recess, a break from this era of human history, and be able to feel euphoria for life again, not a constant fear of losing it.

The Sunday that Lasted a Summer

hey@luisangel.me (Luis Angel Ortega) — Sun, 26 Jul 2020 13:34:27 -0500

There is a recurring feeling in my life. A feeling I associate with a time and a place. The feeling of a Sunday afternoon, which for some reason tastes of melancholy and even a bit of despair. As if the start of a new week signified the death of the being who lived in the week that just ended. I have had this feeling since I can remember, at least since middle school.

When I walked my dog on a Sunday afternoon, there was something about the calm and emptiness of the streets that made me uncomfortable. At first, I feared this feeling since I didn’t understand it, but by the time I was in high school, I had accepted it. I got used to it. I simply called it the Sunday Sadness.

After a while I learned how to escape from it. By college I started going out with a girl, who would eventually become my girlfriend, on Sunday afternoons; one day I explained this to her and she understood. With her, I discovered that as long as I was with company the feeling would disappear. With this, I began to appreciate the things that a Sunday afternoon brought: the beauty of the deserted streets at sunset, the distant sound of children playing in some park or the occasional kermesse of some church celebrating something.

As of writing this, it has been 125 days since the pandemic caused by SARS-CoV-2 began, and I have just figured out how the quarentine makes me feel. It’s like a long Sunday afternoon, that bittersweet feeling prolonged throughout an entire summer. Just as sunset announces the end of a week and the beginning of a new one, every so often the end of the pandemic is announced with great fanfare, but so far it has not ended (nor have things improved, honestly). My family has been fortunate during this time, as we have not lost any loved ones to the disease, and the economic losses have been manageable so far; but not all of my close ones have been so lucky.

So, yes, I write this because I feel like I’m back in high school. Unable to do anything to improve the situation, unable to see my friends, partner, or my family with the ease I had gotten used to. Constantly enclosed, surrounded by screens, and living that internet metaphor day by day.

Now I just look out the window at this eternal sunset, hoping soon to be able to see my grandparents again, walk hand in hand with the one I love through a park, and gather to laugh with my friends, because I simply miss them.