Man, most memorable has to be the lead devops engineer from the first startup I worked at. My immediate team/friends called him Mr. DW - DW being short for Done and Working.

You see, Mr. DW was a brilliant devops engineer. He came up with excellent solutions to a lot of release, deployment, and data storage problems faced at the company (small genetics firm that ships servers with our analysis software on them). I am still very impressed by some of the solutions he came up with, and wish I had more time to study and learn about them before I left that company.

BUT - despite his brilliance, Mr. DW ALWAYS shipped broken stuff. For some reason this guy thinks that only testing a single happiest of happy path scenarios for whatever he is developing constitutes "everything will work as expected!" As soon as he said it was "done", but golly for him was it "done". By fucking God was that never the truth.

So, let me provide a basic example of how things would go:
my team: "Hey DW, we have a problem with X, can you fix this?"
DW: "Oh, sure. I bet it's a problem with <insert long explanations we don't care about we just want it fixed>"
my team: "....uhh, cool! Looking forward to the fix!"
... however long later...
DW: "OK, it's done. Here you go!"
my team: "Thanks! We'll get the fix into the processing pipelines"
... another short time later...
my team: "DW, this thing is broken. Look at all these failures"
DW: "How can that be? It was done! I tested it and it worked!"
my team: "Well, the failures say otherwise. How did you test?"
DW: "I just did <insert super basic thing>"
my team: "...... you know that's, like, not how things actually work for this part of the pipeline. right?"
DW: "..... But I thought it was XYZ?"
my team: "uhhhh, no, not even close. Can you please fix and let us know when it's done and working?"
DW: "... I'll fix it..."

And rinse and repeat the "it's done.. oh wait, it's broken" a good half dozen times on average. But, anyways, the birth of Mr. Done and Working - very often stuff was done, but rarely did it ever work!

I'm still friends with my team mates, and whenever we're talking and someone says something is done, we just have to ask if it's done AND working. We always get a laugh, sadly at the excuse of Mr. DW, but he dug his own hole in this regard.

Little cherry on top: So, the above happened with one of my friends. Mr. DW created installation media for one of our servers that was deployed in China. He tested it and "it was done!" Well, my friend flies out to China for on-site installation. He plugs the install medium in and goes for the install and it crashes and burns in a fire. Thankfully my friend knew the system well enough to be able to get everything installed and configured correctly minus the broken install media, but definitely the most insane example of "it's done!" but sure as he'll "it doesn't work!" we had from Mr. DW.

I'm afraid to go outside today because it is sunny.

I am a dev and have no tan.

I think I'm a day walker...

Me and my aunt. We put a whole frozen chicken into the microwave. After the frost is gone, it starts moving.

“Boiling moisture”, we think. Then, the chicken awakens. “Leave it to boil, lobsters are boiled alive after all”, says my aunt. “No! We’re microwaving a live animal! That’s torture!”, I scream in panic. We switch the microwave off. Chicken — out. No skin, hellish red meat, severe burns. It tries to scream but can’t. I need to put it out of its misery, NOW.

Aunt says “hold it against the table, I’m going to break its neck”. I oblige, and she proceeds to crush its neck with a two-by-four. It turns out, the neck is basically rubber and doesn’t budge. I have a better idea: let’s do something to its brain directly. I take a pin and proceed to find its skull. But there is no skull to be found, just a capri-sun for its head, with a small pocket of something squishy. The chicken keep wheezing loudly, desperate to scream. I poke that pouch with a pin. It splits in half, spilling the insides — gray chalk.

“It’s gone”, says aunt. “Its suffering is over”.

I sigh in relief. That was quite a cooking experience.

Thank god I woke up. It was just a dream.

My shitting streak has begun again. Fuck. Its cold where i live and in my house. Shitting liquid shit doesnt help because my asshole burns. Its not fun and not enjoyable. Im trying to hold shit inside me but it forces me to shit. And if i shit it burns. Imagine being in a cold -75° weather while your asshole is burning heat at +45°. Why is life such a constant stream of pain and suffering. I write this as i sit on the toilet and fight demons not to shit more in order to prevent pain

Why did our designer invent shitting and thought it was a good idea?

I can think of a better idea: whatever i eat gets dissolved into particles by acid that my body produces like an implosion inside a submarine and transforms into pure energy that my body absorbs and thus makes the body more powerful -- no need to shit it out because its now a bunch of fucking particles!

WHY wouldnt that be a better solution. Shitting is disgusting and makes no sense if this solution is also possible. And for an omniscient all-powerful all-knowing celestial being -- NOTHING is impossible to do.

what we perceive as "magic" is normal to an all-powerful celestial entity. Therefore any thought you can imagine, should be possible to do. Even the idea i just proposed because i proved i could imagine it so it must be possible to create such existence

And as i finish writing off this rant, my asshole burns less and everything is coming back to normal Thank God. The pain was bearly bareable. As a finishing touch of this rant imma go wipe my ass for 100th time today and continue working with nextjs on my project

!dev
!!Lyrics

Really a random post but related to my personal dev-life so maybe it’s at least arguable if it belongs here.

This is one of my all time favorite songs, I can identify myself with it (although I’m reinterpreting some parts).
Back in Highschool I had girlfriends, I had time, I had my entourage, everything except money. All my dad wanted me to become was a rich fucking millionaire. Failure was never accepted, no matter what it was about and everything could always have been done better.
It was pretty much a military childhood. I already loved programming back then but only as a hobby, kinda.
I really wanted to make good money so I started a dev career (with makes gooooood money where I came from). The more I invested in my career, and that was a lot, I more and more lost the understanding of what’s really important, just pursued my goal of being the best fucking dev out there and start my own company in the next 10 years.

Well.. 10 years are over now, I’m still an engineer and I lost everything I had before I started this. Especially friends and relations to women (which I’m not even able to connect to anymore).

In this lyric, the blackbird and raven are the career that just ate me alive. Hope that makes any sense to some of you?..

Anyway, here the lyrics if you wanna read it:
—————————————-
Sons of Anarchy
Come join the murder - white buffalo

There's a blackbird perched outside my window
I hear him calling
I hear him sing
He burns me with his eyes of gold to embers
He sees all my sins
He reads my soul
One day that bird, he spoke to me
Like Martin Luther
Like Pericles

Come join the murder
Come fly with black
We'll give you freedom
From the human trap
Come join the murder
Soar on my wings
You'll touch the hand of God
And he'll make you king
And he'll make you king

On a blanket made of woven shadows
Flew up to heaven
On a raven's glide
His angels they turn my wings to wax now
I fell like judas, grace denied
On that day that he lied to me
Like Martin Luther
Like Pericles

Come join the murder
Come fly with black
We'll give you freedom
From the human trap
Come join the murder
Soar on my wings
You'll touch the hand of God
And he'll make you king
And he'll make you king

I walk among the children of my fathers
The broken wings, betrayal's cost
They call to me but never touch my heart, now
I am too far
I'm too lost
All I can hear is what he spoke to me
Like Martin Luther
Like Pericles

Come join the murder
Come fly with black
We'll give you freedom
From the human trap
Come join the murder
Soar on my wings
You'll touch the hand of God
And he'll make you king
And he'll make you king

So now I curse that raven's fire
You made me hate, you made me burn
He laughed aloud as he flew from eden
You always knew, you never learn
The crow no longer sings to me
Like Martin Luther
Or Pericles

Come join the murder
Come fly with black
We'll give you freedom
From the human trap
Come join the murder
Soar on my wings
You'll touch the hand of God
And he'll make you king
And he'll make you king
Come join the murder
Come fly with black
We'll give you freedom
From the human trap
Come join the murder
Soar on my wings
You'll touch the hand of God
And he'll make you king
And he'll make you king

Funny how I sat here watching a fictional depiction of a police interrogation and it made me doubt that I know they are not effective against a specific group of people who plan everything in advance even creating or recruiting their victim ahead of time in a group activity so everything adds up.

And then also this allows collaboration with dirty cops. And of course polygraphs are inadmissible.

Thank God at least once they commit their crimes the story imprisons them. In the story.

But being a purist I was thinking how just knowing they lie is not really enough. Determining who coached them who they were in contact with how they were hooked up with them etc and what the organizational graph looks like is needed.

And even a socially retarded, nasty little empty hearted, soulless piece of garbage can stonewall away the tragedy that claims an innocent life against the background of a system that is supporting them and causes them to feel camaraderie with other more sophisticated monsters.

So then I think. A pair of skinning knives and an ekectric hand crank generator and a cauter might work better than sodium penithol was fabled to do.

So.
When a real person dedicated to justice and dedicated to the war against monsters is confronted with the truth of said monsters

And they laugh
And smirk
Or hide behind shallow masks of innocence my question is thus.

If a man so gentle and kind as I began and mostly remain can be tempted towards this

What does an angry man whose seen even more than I have whose hate for monsters burns endlessly because it's constantly fueled by exposure feel ?

In the end
Remember monsters
You think hurting something small and weak and innocent or simply alone and naive and lying makes you strong ? Makes you a big bad monster?

We're everywhere, and our hatred burns white hot. And when we explode we don't hunt weak innocent things that can't fight back. We hunt things that no one could ever pity and the death of which makes the world better.

And best of all because of this bullshit some of us can pass the polygraph even the next day.