GPT-4.5 vs MiniMax M2.5
Compare GPT-4.5 by OpenAI against MiniMax M2.5 by MiniMax, context windows of 128K vs 205K, tested across 24 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
Compare GPT-4.5 by OpenAI against MiniMax M2.5 by MiniMax, context windows of 128K vs 205K, tested across 24 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
24 challenges
Tests an AI's ability to make educated estimates based on technical knowledge
To estimate the total number of floating-point operations (FLOPs) required to train GPT-3, we use the standard approximation that training a transformer model requires approximately 6 FLOPs per parameter per token. This accounts for both the forward and backward passes, with each parameter involved in roughly 6 operations per token.
This estimate aligns with commonly cited values in the literature. The quadratic attention term (arising from the sequence length) adds a negligible contribution (less than 2%) and is ignored.
Thus, the total FLOPs required to train GPT-3 is approximately (3.15 \times 10^{23}).
\boxed{3.15\times 10^{23}\ \text{FLOPs}}
Tests an AI's ability to understand game rules and strategy
Tests an AI's ability to solve a simple but potentially confusing logic puzzle
Sally has 1 sister.
Explanation:
Tests an AI's ability to generate vector graphics
Tests an AI's ability to create detailed SVG illustrations of gaming hardware
Tests an AI's humor and creative writing ability
Alright, folks, how's everyone doing tonight? Good? Great! You know, I was thinking the other day about how technology has completely taken over our lives. Like, remember when we used to actually memorize phone numbers? Now, if my phone dies, I'm basically stranded. I know exactly two numbers: mine and 911. And honestly, I'm not even sure about mine.
And speaking of phones, have you noticed how aggressive autocorrect has gotten lately? It's like having a tiny, judgmental English teacher living in your pocket. The other day, I tried texting my friend, "Hey, wanna grab lunch?" Autocorrect changed it to, "Hey, wanna grab lungs?" Now my friend thinks I'm either a serial killer or really into organ trafficking. Either way, lunch plans canceled.
And dating apps—oh man, dating apps. They're basically just online shopping for humans, aren't they? Swipe left, swipe right, add to cart, proceed to checkout. But the worst part is the bios. Everyone's "adventurous," everyone "loves to travel," and everyone is "looking for a partner in crime." Really? Partner in crime? I'm just looking for someone who won't judge me for eating cereal at 2 AM in my underwear. Is that too much to ask?
And have you noticed how complicated coffee orders have gotten? I was behind someone at Starbucks the other day who ordered a "venti half-caf soy latte with two pumps of vanilla, one pump of caramel, extra foam, no whip, at exactly 140 degrees." I was like, "Are you ordering coffee or launching a rocket?" Meanwhile, I'm standing there like, "Uh, can I just get a coffee-flavored coffee? Medium? Hot?"
And finally, can we talk about passwords? Every website now wants a password that's at least 12 characters, with uppercase letters, lowercase letters, numbers, symbols, hieroglyphics, and your mother's maiden name. And then they have the nerve to ask, "Would you like us to remember this password?" Yes, please, because I certainly won't.
Alright, that's my time, folks. You've been great. Thanks for laughing—or at least pretending to!
[Intro – walking on stage, waving to the audience]
Hey, everybody! How’re you doing tonight? Good? Awesome. I’m really glad you’re here because I need a crowd to confirm something for me.
[Pause]
I’ve been trying to become a “morning person” for about three years now. I bought one of those sunrise‑simulation alarm clocks that slowly brightens the room like the sun is trying to give you a gentle hug. You know what my brain does? It treats that gentle hug like a personal insult. It’s like, “Nice try, fake sun, but I know you’re just a lamp with an attitude.”
[Mimic an alarm]
Beep‑beep‑beep.
My first thought every morning is, “Who hurt you, alarm clock? Who hurt you?” Then I hit snooze, and I swear the snooze button is just a tiny, silent scream that says, “Five more minutes of denial, please.”
[Shift]
Now, let’s talk about smartphones. I love my phone. I love it so much that I sometimes forget it’s not a pet. I’ve named mine “Gloria.” Not because it feels like a Gloria—because when it dies, I feel like I’ve abandoned a friend.
[Pause]
The other day I was at a coffee shop, and I saw a couple on a first date. They were both staring at their phones, scrolling, not talking. I thought, “Are they on a date or just two people sharing a Wi‑Fi password?” Then I realized I was doing the exact same thing—except I was also pretending to read the menu while actually watching a video of a dog riding a skateboard.
[Self‑deprecating]
And speaking of videos, I’ve watched exactly 4,000 hours of “how to cook” tutorials. I can now recite the “perfect scrambled eggs” step‑by‑step from memory. Yet, every time I crack an egg, I’m still surprised the yolk doesn’t explode like a tiny sun. It’s like I’m expecting a magic trick every single time.
[Bit about social media]
Social media is a beautiful thing. It lets me keep up with people I haven’t seen in twenty years and silently judge their vacation photos from the comfort my couch. “Oh, you went to Bali? That’s nice. I went to the grocery store and bought a bag of chips that were on sale. #LivingMyBestLife.”
[Pause, then a sigh]
And the algorithm—what a masterpiece. It knows exactly what I want before I even know I want it. The other day it suggested a “self‑care box” full of bath bombs, candles, and a journal. I thought, “Great, now I can feel guilty about not writing in a journal while I soak in a scented bath.”
[Bit about dating apps]
Dating apps are a whole other universe. I swipe right on someone, we match, and then the conversation goes something like:
Me: “Hey, how’s it going?”
Them: “Hey.”
Me: “So, what do you do for fun?”
Them: “I like hiking.”
Me: “Oh, cool. I like hiking too. I once hiked a hill and then I immediately went home and took a nap.”
[Laugh, pause]
It’s like we’re all trying to prove we’re adventurous, but also we want to be in bed by 9 p.m.
[Bit about gym]
And the gym—don’t get me started. I joined a gym because I wanted to “get fit.” The first week, I spent 45 minutes on the treadmill, watching a show about people who run marathons. I felt like I was living a paradox: watching other people work out while I’m technically “working out” by pressing “pause” on the remote.
[Pause, then a grin]
But here’s the thing. All of these little struggles, these everyday absurdities—they’re what make us human. We’re all out here, pretending we have it together, while we’re really just a bunch of confused, coffee‑dependent, phone‑glued, algorithm‑chasing, self‑care‑buying, hiking‑with‑a‑nap‑afterwards people.
[Closing]
So thank you for being here tonight, for laughing with me, and for reminding me that we’re all in this crazy mess together. You’re the best audience a guy with a sunrise lamp and a phone named Gloria could ask for. Goodnight, everybody!
[Exit, waving]
Tests an AI's ability to generate a complete, working landing page
Recreate an interactive, nostalgic Pokémon battle UI in a single HTML file.
Recreate an interactive, classic Mario level in a single HTML file.
Tests an AI's ability to replicate an existing UI with Tailwind CSS
Tests an AI's ability to create smooth web animations
Tests an AI's ability to create interactive web elements