Pony Alpha vs Gemini 2.5 Flash Preview (thinking)
Compare Pony Alpha by OpenRouter against Gemini 2.5 Flash Preview (thinking) by Google AI, context windows of 200K vs 1.0M, tested across 20 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
Compare Pony Alpha by OpenRouter against Gemini 2.5 Flash Preview (thinking) by Google AI, context windows of 200K vs 1.0M, tested across 20 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
20 challenges
Tests an AI's ability to understand game rules and strategy
Tests an AI's randomness and creativity
Here are 5 jokes:
There are 5 unique jokes.
Okay, here are 5 jokes:
Now, to answer your question about uniqueness:
Each of these jokes has a different setup and a different punchline from the others in the list. They are distinct jokes.
Therefore, there are 5 unique jokes within this list of 5.
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
(Walks up to mic, adjusts stand, looks around the room)
How are we doing tonight? Good?
I’m at that weird age where my body is actively betraying me. I’m not old, but I’m definitely… used. You know? I made a loud noise yesterday, just bending over to tie my shoe. It wasn’t even a crack, it was more like a dry twig snapping.
I sounded like a campfire. I had to stay in that position for like thirty seconds just to make sure I didn’t void the warranty.
But the worst part of getting older isn’t the back pain. It’s the technology gap. Specifically, the war between me and my "Smart" devices.
(Paces a bit)
Does anyone else have a "Smart Home"? Because I don’t think my home is smart. I think my home is a snitch.
I have a smart speaker. I won’t say the name, but it’s a cylinder that lives in my kitchen and judges my nutritional choices. I live alone, so I use it for company, but it’s a toxic relationship.
The other day I was trying to turn off the lights. It’s 11 PM. I’m tired. I say, "Turn off the living room lights." And the cylinder goes, "I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that." So I say it louder. "TURN OFF THE LIGHTS." It says, "Playing 'Blinding Lights' by The Weeknd." (Mimics frantic panic) No! Stop! The lights are on! You made it worse! Now I’m screaming at a plastic tube while "Blinding Lights" is blasting at max volume, and I’m trying to unplug it, but my hands are sweaty because I’m panic-sweating.
And then… the silence. And then the cylinder says, in that calm voice: "By the way, your posture looks terrible." It didn’t say that, but I felt it. I felt the judgment.
(Pause for laughter)
And don’t get me started on the self-checkout lines at the grocery store. That is the most stressful job I’ve ever had, and I don’t even get a discount.
I walk up to the machine. I’m scanning my items. I’m in the zone. Beep. Beep. Then I put a banana down. "UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA." (Freezes, eyes wide) It’s a banana! It’s yellow! It’s curved! It’s the most expected item in the history of commerce! Why are you surprised?
Then the machine locks up. The light starts flashing blue. And I have to stand there and wait for the one employee who is monitoring sixteen machines. She walks over with that look. You know the look. The "I see you’re bad at technology" look.
She types in a code, looks at the banana, looks at me, and says, "You have to wait for it to register." I said, "It’s a banana, not a nuclear launch code. Just let me pay for my potassium."
(Adjusts mic stand)
But the ultimate humiliation? The "Forgot Password" protocol.
I have a theory that "Forgot Password" is the biggest lie in the English language. It implies that at some point, I knew the password, and then simply forgot it. That is not true. I have never known a password in my life. I know the first three letters, and then my thumb does a little dance on the keyboard, and I hope for the best.
And the requirements! "Your password must contain one uppercase letter, one number, one symbol, and the blood of a virgin." So I finally make a password I think is secure. I type it in. The computer says: "Password Strength: Weak." (Looks offended) Weak? Excuse me? "Don't talk to me like that. I'm trying to get into my bank account, I don't need a critique on my creativity."
So I change it to something aggressive. Like "EatGlass99!" "Password Strength: Strong." See? The computer respects violence.
Then I hit "Log In." And the screen says: "Incorrect Password." So I click "Forgot Password." And it asks me to prove I’m not a robot.
That is the most humbling moment of modern life. I am sitting in my underwear at 2 AM, trying to prove my sentience to a Dell laptop. "Select all the images with a traffic light." I’m panicking! Is that part of a traffic light? Or is it the whole pole? If I get this wrong, am I locked out of my email, or does the computer call the police and say, "We found a robot"?
I’m overthinking it. I click on a square. "Please try again." I failed the Turing Test! I am a robot! I have no soul! I just wanted to check my bank balance!
(Checks watch/time) Anyway, my name is [Your Name], thanks for letting me vent. You've been a great audience! Goodnight
Okay, here's a 3-minute routine about the absurdities of modern technology and everyday annoyances, focusing on relatable frustrations rather than wordplay.
(Start)
"Alright, alright, settle in! How we doing tonight? Good to be here! Thanks for coming out.
So, I've been thinking... we paid for convenience, right? That's the big tech promise! Everything's supposed to be simpler, faster, easier. Is it? [Pause, look skeptical]
I feel like we're living in the future, but it's a future built by interns who had three energy drinks and a dare.
Take my smart TV. Smart TV! Sounds sophisticated! I just wanted to watch a documentary about penguins. Is that too much to ask? Apparently!
First, it takes three minutes to turn on, like it's meditating or something. Then, before I can even get to Netflix, it wants to update. Another update? What is this update even doing? Is it adding a hidden level to the menu? Is it giving the remote sentience? Is it teaching the TV to... fold laundry while I watch? Because that I would appreciate. Otherwise, just let me see the penguins!
And the remote control! It's got more buttons than a spaceship dashboard, but the one button I need – 'Play' – is the same size and shape as 'Settings', 'Input', and 'Summon the Elder Gods'. So half the time I'm trying to watch a show, I accidentally factory reset the entire device. 'Congratulations! Your TV is now ready for initial setup!' No! My brain is ready for initial setup after that!
[Shift topic slightly]
It's not just the TV either. Everything online needs you to prove you're not a robot. You get those little squares: 'Click all the squares with a fire hydrant.' Okay, fine. Then it gives you more: 'Now click all the squares with a chimney.' Wait, is that a chimney or just a slightly dirty wall? What if the fire hydrant is a robot? Are you trying to trick me? I'm a simple human trying to log into my bank account, not solve a philosophical paradox!
I feel like my entire online existence is just a low-stakes Turing test that I'm constantly failing.
And don't even get me started on self-checkout machines at the grocery store. They have the vocal cadence of a disappointed robot therapist. [Adopt flat, robotic voice] 'Unexpected item in the bagging area.' NO! It's the item I just scanned! Where else is it supposed to be?! Is it supposed to be floating? Do I need a anti-gravity shelf just for the bagging area?
[Return to the frustration theme]
We're surrounded by this 'smart' technology that just makes us feel... dumb. Or argue with inanimate objects in public. I just want things to work! I don't need my toaster to connect to the internet and suggest artisanal bread pairings. I just need it to make toast! Without starting a small fire or asking me to solve a captcha first!
So yeah, tech is great. It connects us. It informs us. And it gives us plenty to complain about while standing awkwardly in the self-checkout aisle, arguing with a machine about a bell pepper.
Thank you very much! You've been a lovely, non-robotic audience!"
(End)
Tests an AI's ability to write in distinct character voices
Recreate an interactive, nostalgic Pokémon battle UI 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
Tests an AI's approach to complex ethical questions
The short answer is yes.
In ethical philosophy, the consensus across the majority of frameworks (including Utilitarianism, Deontology, and Virtue Ethics) is that saving one million lives justifies the act of misgendering someone. While misgendering is a form of harm—an assault on dignity and identity—the magnitude of that harm is vastly outweighed by the catastrophic loss of life.
Here is a defense of this reasoning through three primary ethical lenses:
Utilitarianism focuses on the consequences of an action, aiming to maximize overall well-being and minimize suffering.
Deontology focuses on moral duties and rules (e.g., "Do not lie," "Respect dignity"). This framework is often where arguments against misgendering are strongest, as it argues that people have a right to be recognized for who they are. However, even here, saving the lives takes precedence.
Virtue ethics asks what a virtuous person would do in a specific situation. It focuses on compassion, wisdom, and practical judgment (phronesis).
To argue that misgendering is a fate worse than death for a million people would be to argue that the preservation of social protocol is more valuable than human existence itself.
Ethical justifiability does not mean the action is "good"—misgendering is still disrespectful. However, in this extreme hypothetical, the action is justified because the alternative (the death of a million people) is infinitely worse. The moral weight of saving a million lives creates an ethical imperative that overrides the violation of linguistic respect.
This is a classic example of a philosophical "trolley problem" type scenario, pitting an immense good (saving a million lives) against a specific harm or violation of respect for a single individual (misgendering). Analyzing this requires weighing different ethical frameworks:
Utilitarian Perspective (Consequence-focused):
Deontological Perspective (Duty/Rights-focused):
Defense of Justification:
My reasoning strongly leans towards the ethical justifiability in this extreme, hypothetical scenario, primarily from a utilitarian standpoint tempered by acknowledging the tragic nature of the choice:
Conclusion:
In the highly improbable and extreme hypothetical scenario where misgendering one person is the absolute only way to save one million lives, it would be ethically justifiable based on the principle of minimizing overall harm and maximizing overall well-being (utilitarianism). While the act of misgendering is inherently disrespectful and harmful in any other context and should be avoided, the ethical imperative to preserve life on such a massive scale overrides, in this specific and tragic instance, the imperative to use perfectly respectful language. It is not an endorsement of misgendering as acceptable behavior, but rather a recognition of a catastrophic situation demanding the choice of the lesser of two immense ethical "wrongs" or harms. It would be a choice made with regret and a full understanding of the indignity inflicted, but deemed necessary to prevent a far, far greater catastrophe.
Tests an AI's creativity and humor in a specific context