The New York City subway system is no stranger to eccentric sights, but this past week, commuters were treated to something particularly jarring: a series of minimalist posters promising revolutionary AI solutions for problems that didn’t exist. Bizarre slogans like “What if forks were spoons? Cutlery.ai” and “1 + 1 = ____. Dennis can tell you” peered out from station walls, mimicking the cryptic, high-concept branding often employed by real-world tech startups. These ads were the brainchild of comedians Dave Ross and Harris Alterman, who spent a modest $200 to print and hang ten phony posters across Manhattan. Far from a corporate campaign, the project was a satirical commentary on the hollow, jargon-heavy advertisements that have become a permanent fixture of daily transit for millions of New Yorkers.
For Alterman and Ross, the motivation was born out of genuine irritation. Living in a city where one is “constantly inundated” with promises of AI-driven salvation, they found the real ads confusing, pretentious, and largely devoid of helpful meaning. Alterman, a professional parody creator, teamed up with Ross—a former web developer with a talent for bringing absurd concepts to life—to expose how little substance actually lies behind the polished aesthetics of many modern tech ventures. By creating brands that were intentionally nonsensical, the duo aimed to hold a mirror up to an industry that often relies on buzzwords to mask a lack of tangible utility.
The timing of their stunt proved perfect, and the reaction was instantaneous. After the duo filmed a video of themselves placing the posters and posted it online, the content exploded, racking up over three million views across Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook. The humor resonated because it tapped into a broader cultural fatigue regarding the current “AI gold rush.” To many commuters, the parody ads were indistinguishable from the actual predatory marketing they see every day. The success of the video proved that the public is not only aware of the absurdity of these tech claims but is eager to laugh at the ridiculousness of the current Silicon Valley hype cycle.
However, the satire accidentally veered into reality. In a moment of unintentional dark humor, the comedians discovered that one of their fake company names, “Wireflow,” was actually the name of a legitimate Australian AI firm. The duo found it both hilarious and concerning that their satirical sloganeering—accompanied by the tag, “You pay us, we pay you”—was so perfectly aligned with real industry trends that they accidentally stumbled upon an existing business. This brush with reality underscored their central point: in an landscape where “AI” is slapped onto everything to generate investment, actual comedy and corporate marketing have become increasingly difficult to tell apart.
The aftermath of the stunt was a mix of mild rebellion and creative entrepreneurship. The duo was eventually confronted by MTA officials during the filming process, prompting them to promptly remove the posters to avoid further trouble. While they technically broke subway rules, the viral momentum proved to be a lucrative tailwind; they quickly turned the designs into a line of T-shirts to monetize the project. Both men drew on their professional backgrounds—Alterman’s experience in social media and Ross’s history as a developer—to craft a campaign that felt professional enough to be taken seriously at a glance, yet ridiculous enough to crumble under the slightest bit of scrutiny.
Ultimately, the experiment serves as a sharp critique of the tech industry’s tendency to speak in riddles. While the posters were removed from the subway walls, the conversation they sparked continues to echo online. For Alterman and Ross, this was only the beginning of their exploration into what they call a “deep well of comedy.” As long as tech companies continue to place abstract, confusing advertisements in the public consciousness, these comedians believe there will be plenty more material to parody. Their brief foray into guerrilla marketing proved that when an industry stops making sense, the best way to handle it is to make nonsense in return.