Beijing, August 22, 2025
The Tech Grad Who Said No to Silicon Valley
Picture this: You’ve just earned your master’s in Artificial Intelligence from one of the world’s top universities. Tech giants are knocking at your door. The AI gold rush is in full swing.
What do you do?
If you’re Seven, you become a stand-up comedian.
Yes, you read that right.
In 2023, fresh out of University of Melbourne’s prestigious AI program, Seven didn’t rush to Silicon Valley. He didn’t join the race to build the next ChatGPT. Instead, he dove headfirst into comedy clubs, trading algorithms for punchlines.
A prestigious AI master’s holder “stealing jobs” from liberal arts grads? In the age of AI dominance, it feels almost rebellious.
Making AI Jokes That Nobody Gets
Seven’s been riding high lately, thanks to a DM that made his day.
A mom wrote to him about her 12-year-old son’s question: “When you said ‘My name is Seven, but don’t treat me like Ultraman,’ was that a double meaning?”
The kid caught it. Seven’s joke worked on two levels — referencing both the Japanese superhero Ultraseven and OpenAI’s CEO Sam Altman.
Most people miss it entirely.
That’s Seven’s comedy in a nutshell: smart, niche, and sometimes too clever for its own good.
The Stand-Up Circuit
Seven’s most visible gig? Performing on popular comedy competition shows. But here’s the kicker — he’s still that University of Melbourne computer science grad with an AI specialization.
Melbourne ranks in the global top 20. Its computer science program leads Australia. To outsiders, this screams “instant six-figure tech job.”
“That’s not how it actually works,” Seven says. “Not everyone gets to cash in on the AI boom.”
After graduating in 2023, he took a job at a state enterprise. Days at the office. Nights at the mic. He calls himself “a front-row spectator to the AI revolution.”
Comedy Against the Current
Even his stand-up swims upstream. While other comedians mine gender politics for viral moments, Seven talks about AI.
His recent bit? “What It’s Like Having an AI-Obsessed Boss from Hell.”
The story hits every tech worker’s nerve: A middle-aged manager who forwards “AI Makes PPTs in One Click!” articles but can’t double-click to open files. Who demands “deep thinking” from language models with instructions so vague the AI crashes. Who wants shiny “AI initiatives” so badly that Seven ends up slapping together open-source models just to shut him up.
AI might be hot. AI comedy? Not so much.
Gender topics dominate the comedy scene now. Violence, discrimination, everyday struggles — these get the laughs and the headlines. Pure comedy takes a backseat.
Seven’s AI material doesn’t trend. In one 33-second bit, his Alan Turing joke died on arrival. The premise: Getting so frustrated with an AI spam caller that you want to curse its ancestors, only to realize it has none — except maybe Turing himself.
Silence.
One devoted fan tried to help, suggesting fewer technical terms. “Open-source models” and “shell applications” create barriers, they said. Keep it simple.
But Seven never set out to be the “smart comic.”
The “Average” AI Talent
Born in 1999 in China’s comedy-rich Northeast, Seven looks like every other tech bro. Small eyes, full lips, the standard uniform of button-downs and T-shirts.
“Take the subway to any tech park in any city,” he says. “Half the car looks exactly like me.”
Even average-looking people want to be the main character. Getting an AI master’s during peak hype didn’t make that happen.
He landed at Melbourne in 2021, mid-pandemic. When picking his specialization, AI wasn’t even on his radar. ChatGPT wouldn’t explode for another year. Even when it did, Seven never felt like he was at the center of the storm.
Reality Check
Studying in his second language, in a completely new field, hurt.
Classes covered classic models. The other 90%? Figure it out yourself. Despite solid grades through sheer grinding, campus coding competitions revealed the truth. Some people wrote elegant algorithms that barely touched computing resources. Their AIs crushed everyone else’s.
“It’s like racing,” he explains. “A tenth of a second might as well be a mile. I’m not that guy.”
“I’m just trying to adapt to the world. They’re here to change it.”
When he thinks about AI phenoms — the prodigies whose eyes light up discussing neural networks — he knows his place.
His eyes light up for something else entirely.
Finding the Stage
July 2021. A Spanish high school friend suggested he try stand-up. His first open mic back home in Northeast China? Dead silence. Total blank on what he even said. Only remembers feeling watched — and liking it.
In Melbourne, he didn’t just perform. He built. Created a comedy club from scratch. The rational approach: “This wasn’t innovation. More like data migration — book venues, cover costs, gather performers and audiences. Done.”
The club exploded. Barbers, waiters, students — everyone wanted in.
The path forward seemed clear: Open mics. Competitions. TV shots.
But that engineering brain created limits. Logic and spontaneity don’t always mix.
“We overthink everything. Funny doesn’t follow logic.”
The Other Theater
Seven works as a project manager at his state enterprise job. Business plans, project delivery, minimal coding.
“The least wasteful way to live? Find your right stage.”
He doesn’t see this as “downward mobility.”
Comedy fills his nights and weekends. The balance works. Two tracks, neither optional. Stand-up feeds his soul and supplements his income.
The data? Top AI grads at major tech firms pull 300-400K RMB annually in China. Famous comedians? They can beat that.
Staying Relevant
Seven shares everyone’s fear of obsolescence. Even off the main tech stage, his training helps. He knows how to talk to AI, how to leverage it.
He’s exploring indie app development. Finding problems, coding solutions. Not for money — coding keeps him grounded. While others reshape humanity’s trajectory, he’ll fix life’s small annoyances.
He refuses to force developer thinking onto everything. The “AI-everything” trend drives him nuts. Recently, he found an “AI Smart Face Mask” online — black background, white line art, special effects galore.
“Perfect comedy material,” he mutters.
Priority List
Seven’s life priorities: Experience first. Family second. Career third.
“Happy” peppers every conversation. Work makes him happy. Comedy makes him happy. Good food, sunshine — all happiness.
Beyond the kid catching his Altman joke, his latest joy? “Discovering tomato and egg dumplings are amazing.”
“If someone invents incredible self-driving tech, I’m only excited if they give me one free,” Seven says.
The Bigger Picture
This true story isn’t about choosing poverty over prosperity. It’s about recognizing that not everyone in the AI boom gets to be a titan.
Most become middle managers writing reports.
Seven chose differently. He programs apps on weekends. He makes people laugh at night. He lives in multiple worlds because one alone never felt like enough.
Maybe that’s the real AI-era skill: Knowing when the technology serves you, and when you’re just serving it.
In Seven’s case, the algorithm is simple: Find what makes you happy. Iterate as needed.
Even if that means an AI master’s degree holder is out there, stealing the liberal arts kids’ best lines.
This true story captures one person’s journey navigating the AI revolution on their own terms. Sometimes the most radical act isn’t joining the gold rush — it’s knowing when to walk away.
