Gift-Giving on the Internet (circa 2025)

Yesterday, I was stuck in one of those recursive loops of coding with AI—where nothing gets solved, and you keep cycling through the same operations until one of you (usually the human) gives up. After an hour of frustration, I scrapped my changes and turned to social media to air my grievances.

I wrote this:

A few hours later, @alecpap replied and tagged a Farcaster-native, AI app builder into the conversation, who turned my exact problem into a tiny, hilarious micro-app. The app was basically a golfing game, where every shot you take is accompanied by a sarcastic comment from an off-screen spectator about how poorly you’re doing. It was petty, specific, and oddly therapeutic.

I played a few times. Sure enough, after each attempt, a text box with a sarcastic quip of dialogue appeared, taunting you to try again.

I spent the next 5 minutes giggling with delight as I played this ridiculous little game.

Why? Because it was perfectly personal. Someone (or some AI) took the time (yes, maybe only 30 seconds) to turn my random gripe into a delightful, shareable experience. It wasn’t a big production—it was just enough effort to make me feel seen.

That’s when it hit me: micro-apps are the modern-day mixtape.

The Modern-Day Mixtape

A mixtape used to be such a cozy signal of affection–a perfect blend of attention and pop culture. Mixtapes were fun because they took just enough effort to pull together, making them feel special. 

On the receiving end, a mixtape was the ultimate prize—a signal that someone had spent time thinking about you and (if the music was good) that they really got you. As the creator, you had to carefully record songs, often catching them on the radio or from your collection, and the order mattered just as much as the handwritten Sharpie dedication on the cassette cover.

Sharing a mixtape became its own ritual: You waited for just the right moment to hand over your creation, building up the courage to offer it as a gift. And when you received one, you listened all the way through, savoring every track.

In our increasingly digital age, the nostalgic suspense of listening to a mixtape for the very first time, not knowing what you’ll discover, is hard to come by. Major corporate advertisers and brands have transformed the art of hyper-personalization into the science of addiction. Let's be real: It’s not fun anymore when you know every click you is just another tug toward yet another over-funded ad campaign trying to catch you on the other end.

But look at us now. This feel-good, Valentine’s Day era of hyper-personalized, singularly focused apps, is crashing into our cutesy Gen-Z vibes like a Spencer’s gift shop in a 1990s shopping mall.

Blow up those inflatable chairs and stock up your gift cards to Auntie Anne’s pretzel shops kids, because the time of the modern-day mixtape is upon us.

Mixed Tapes and Mario Kart and All That Y2K Panic...

Welcome to the era of hyper-personalized app.

I can't wait to see what fun quirky ways people are going to come up with to give digital gifts to each other on the Internet, in this moment when you can build anything in minutes, if not seconds. (Who knows, if we get this right, maybe we'll even be able to rediscover the joy of digital social connection, just without all the newsfeeds and the follower count fuss...)

One of the things I like to tell people about working with AI is that no problem is too small. When it comes to bespoke apps, nothing is too specific, weird, or petty. In fact, the more niche, the better—and maybe, for now, the more nostalgic. I suspect that's why we’re seeing a resurgence of things from 20 years ago (hello, Super Smash Brothers Tournaments) making a big comeback. In a way, it feels like we’re all finding our way back to the good old days.

In this anything-is-possible era, it’s no surprise we’re retreating to the early days of the Internet—when SmarterChild and Neopets ruled the discourse. You know, back when typing http:// into a browser carried a thrill, and you never knew what hidden corner of the web you’d StumbleUpon...

And if it feels like we can have it all anyway, maybe that means it's time to start to gifting it back to each other—embracing a super-personalized ethos that feels as good as an old-school Facebook Poke. The mixtape may have evolved, but its spirit lives on.

So go ahead, build something petty, niche, and unforgettable. Someone out there will love it.

Even–especially if–they are the only one.