My favorite place to code?

emacs.

Because, emacs.

We are required to use corporate SSO for any authenticated internal websites, and one of the features they require you to implement is a "logout" button.

They provide a whole slew of specifications, including size and placement/visibility, etc. They provide an SSO logout URL you must redirect to after you take care of your own application logout tasks.

Makes sense... except the logout URL they provide to serve the actual SSO logout function broke over 3 months ago, and remains non-functional to this day.

Apparently I'm the first person (and perhaps one of the only people) who reported it, and was told "just not to worry about it".

So, we have a standing feature request to provide a button... that doesn't actually work.

Corporate Security - Making your corporation _appear_ more secure every day...

I just had the most surreal email discussion I think I've ever had...

I spent over two hours going back-and-forth over email with an enterprise DBA, trying to convince them I needed a primary key for a table. They created the table without a primary key (or any unique constraints... or indexes... but that's another discussion). I asked them to add one. Then had to justify why.

If you ever find yourself justifying why you need a primary key on a table in an RDBMS, that's the day you find yourself asking "is this real life?"

I want the last two hours of my life back. And a handful of Advil.

Cable/Internet outage. Tried to contact ISP (Mediacom, who are awful)... Reported outage over an hour ago, but no update.

So, I figure it's time to call then...

In support app, selected "Call someone now." Selected sevices. Drop-down for "Tap down arrow for list"... contains the single placeholder "Tap down arrow for list". Plus, of course, you cannot submit the form without making a selection from the list.

Fuck your fucking support app right in the java-hole, Mediacom.

I did not need any more reasons to hate you - you are already at the top of my list, with no one else remotely close behind.

Near the end of a massive (1,000 user bridgeline) conference call today:

[ P = presenter, RCn = random caller n ]

P: ...so, does anyone have any other questions they'd like to---

RC1: Hey! Yeah, I'm still on this STUPID call right now... I dunno, we've been in here for like 30 minutes already - The guy came by the house to talk about it, but I couldn't get off this STUPID call - I think they said it would be around 800 dollars...

[ P, RC1, RC2, RC3, RC4 all overlapping ]

P: Um, we can hear you-

RC2: Dude, mute your phone!

RC3: As the presenter, you can mute that guy from the web UI-

P: Yeah, I can't find him in the attendee list; it's so long-

RC3: -Right-click on his name and select "mute line"-

P: I know how, but I can't find him on the list.

RC3: Find him on the attendance list on the right side-

P: [ louder and louder ] Yes, I know - but I can't find him in the list-

RC4: Should someone call an operator?

RC1: -so I figured we'll probably need to call Jerry and see what he says. I'll call him if I can ever get off this ridiculous, STUPID call - They are all talking at once on there now and no one can understand anything!

[ This went on for about 5 solid minutes, finally ending with... ]

RC1: I'm just going to drop this STUPID call and call Jerry for us. This thing was a total waste of time. [ boop-beep ]

[ long pause ]

P: OK, so now that is over, does anyone have any questions they'd like to discuss?

[ At least 10 people un-mute and overlap questions ]

#ConferenceCallProblems

Above everything else, the funniest part to me was his repeated, over-the-top insistence on how "STUPID" the call was.

#TellUsHowYouReallyFeel

PERL.

So delighted perl has become the Latin of scripting languages. Horrific syntax, library drift and bloat second only to js, inconsistent lint/standards that no one followed anyway...

I'll grant it might have had its day, but delighted those days are now long gone (and even those days held arguably better alternatives available, but I digress).

Just showing off the devRant stressball...

I don't have an actual rubber-ducky, but I have a whole gaggle of rubber-ducky-stand-ins who help me debug.

Most of them happen to be skulls. (I have quite a few more scattered around the office). I guess it's an aesthetic... #skullsthetic?

This was a straight-to-devrant moment...

Referred a work colleague to a man page for a command they were having trouble with.

Their reply: "I really hate man pages. They are not useful to me. They are full of blah blah blah blah blah. I just want 'run this' or 'run that'."

Then my eyes exploded right out my head, making room for my brain exploding right behind them.

Yesterday I used a company service account to email over 1,000 internal employees (mostly application managers and the like) about an old OS version their servers are using which must be upgraded in a few months. It's an automated email that will repeat each month until the servers are upgraded.

That is not the part that might get me fired.

The part that might get me fired is an easter egg I left in the html content of the email itself.

In the embedded html of the message, I buried a comment block that contains a full-screen ascii-art drawing of a spooky tree and grim reaper standing beside a tombstone. The tombstone has the OS info and dates on it. Beneath the ascii-art is a bastardized quote in homage to Metallica's "For Whom The Bell Tolls", referring to the OS end-of-life.

The ascii-art is visible in both the html and the internal git repo that contains the email template.

This is a bit of a shoe-horn for this weekly group rant, as I doubt there is any chance I would really be fired over this, as I (sadly) expect that absolutely NO ONE who receives the messages will ever actually see the comments. But it's out there in the corporate network now... and will be sent over and over for the next few months...

There is a better chance someone may catch the easter egg in the git repo, but I kind-of doubt that, too - so I wanted to at least share with my devRant friends that it's out there, so at least someone else knows than just me. 😝

I have a telephone headset with a "confusing" mute button. Sometimes it works normally, but quite often it will "double-toggle" (toggle twice as though I pressed it twice, which essentially has no effect) - so I'm either left muted or left un-muted, the same as before I pressed the button at all - so I have to press it again, sometimes several times, for it to actuary work.

While I'm at my desk, I have a visual indicator of mute status (a light that turns green for un-muted or red for muted), so I can easily tell if my mic is hot or not. My old headset had a nice audible beep reminder if I was muted, but the new headset? Nope, not-so-much.

I work from home, while my wife works at an office; so each morning she leaves, but I stay in the home office. I almost always see her off one way or another, usually doing or saying something funny as she heads out.

So, one day, I'm on a large conference call with a number of cross-team managers, and my wife is about to head out the door. With the meeting droning on in my headset, I was in the kitchen with her for a while helping finish clean up after breakfast and getting her ready to go.

She needed to pack an ice-pack for some reason, and for the random humor of it, I start screaming something to the effect of "GIMMIE YO ICE PACKS - GIMMIE ALLLL YO ICE PACKS - YEAH! YEAH! IMMA PUT MY BAAAAAAAAALLLLLS ON IT - WHOOOOOOOOO!"

During which time I am jumping around like a crazy person, including actually grabbing one of the ice packs, putting it down the front of my pants and screaming. Loudly.

It was after my own screaming I overheard more than one person yelling on the bridge line "YOU'RE NOT MUTED! YOU'RE NOT MUTED!"

I have seldom felt such raw, unadulterated panic.

I rushed back to my home office - yes, the green light is on my desk - my mic is hot. When I pressed mute at some point earlier in the call, it double-toggled, leaving me un-muted, and I never knew.

Even more embarrassing was the chat session I saw on my computer screen. It was from my manager (one of the managers on the call) - he had pinged me several times while I was in the kitchen.

It read something like:

hey, you there?
is that your phone
I think your phone isn't muted
mute
dude, mute
is that you?
MUTE!
did you just say balls?

This code review gave me eye cancer.

So, first of all, let me apologize to anyone impacted by eye cancer, if that really is a thing... because that sounds absolutely horrible. But, believe me, this code was absolutely horrible, too.

I was asked to code review another team's script. I don't like reviewing code from other teams, as I'm pretty "intense" and a nit-picker -- my own team knows and expects this, but I tend to really piss off other people who don't expect my level of input on "what I really think" about their code...

So, I get this script to review. It's over 200 lines of bash (so right away, it's fair game for a boilerplate "this should be re-written in python" or similar reply)... but I dive in to see what they sent.

My eyes.

My eyes.

MY EYES.

So, I certainly cannot violate IP rules and post any of the actual code here (be thankful - be very thankful), but let me just say, I think it may be the worst code I've ever seen. And I've been coding and code-reviewing for upwards of 30 years now. And I've seen a LOT of bad code...

I imagine the author of this script was a rebellious teenager who found the google shell scripting style guide and screamed "YOU'RE NOT MY REAL DAD!" at it and then set out to flagrantly violate every single rule and suggestion in the most dramatic ways possible.

Then they found every other style guide they could, and violated all THOSE rules, too. Just because they were there.

Within the same script... within the SAME CODE BLOCK... 2-space indentation... 4-space indentation... 8-space indentation... TAB indentation... and (just to be complete) NO indentation (entire blocks of code within another function of conditional block, all left-justified, no indentation at all).

lowercase variable/function names, UPPERCASE names, underscore_separated_names, CamelCase names, and every permutation of those as well.

Comments? Not a single one to be found, aside from a 4-line stanza at the top, containing a brief description of that the script did and (to their shame), the name of the author. There were, however, ENTIRE BLOCKS of code commented out.

[ In the examples below, I've replaced indentation spacing with '-', as I couldn't get devrant to format the indentation in a way to suitably share my pain otherwise... ]

Within just a few lines of one another, functions defined as...

function somefunction {
----stuff
}

Another_Function() {
------------stuff
}

There were conditionals blocks in various forms, indentation be damned...

if [ ... ]; then
--stuff
fi

if [ ... ]
--then
----some_stuff
fi

if [ ... ]
then
----something
something_else
--another_thing
fi

And brilliantly un-reachable code blocks, like:

if [ -z "$SOME_VAR" ]; then
--SOME_VAR="blah"
fi

if [ -z "$SOME_VAR" ]
----then
----SOME_VAR="foo"
fi

if [ -z "$SOME_VAR" ]
--then
--echo "SOME_VAR must be set"
fi

Do you remember the classic "demo" programs people used to distribute (like back in the 90s) -- where the program had no real purpose other than to demonstrate various graphics, just for the sake of demonstrating graphics techniques? Or some of those really bad photo slideshows, were the person making the slideshow used EVERY transition possible (slide, wipe, cross-fade, shapes, spins, on and on)? All just for the sake of "showing off" what they could do with the software? I honestly felt like I was looking at some kind of perverse shell-script demo, where the author was trying to use every possible style or obscure syntax possible, just to do it.

But this was PRODUCTION CODE.

There was absolutely no consistency, even within 1-2 adjacent lines. There is no way to maintain this. It's nearly impossible even understand what it's trying to do. It was just pure insanity. Lines and lines of insanity.

I picture the author of this code as some sort of hybrid hipster-artist-goth-mental-patient, chain-smoking clove cigarettes in their office, flinging their own poo at their monitor, frothing at the mouth and screaming "I CODE MY TRUTH! THIS CODE IS MY ART! IT WILL NOT CONFORM TO YOUR WORLDLY STANDARDS!"

I gave up after the first 100 lines.

Gave up.

I washed my eyes out with bleach.

Then I contacted my HR hotline to see if our medical insurance covers eye cancer.

My first job: The Mystery of The Powered-Down Server

I paid my way through college by working every-other-semester in the Cooperative-Education Program my school provided. My first job was with a small company (now defunct) which made some of the very first optical-storage robotic storage systems. I honestly forgot what I was "officially" hired for at first, but I quickly moved up into the kernel device-driver team and was quite happy there.

It was primarily a Solaris shop, with a smattering of IBM AIX RS/6000. It was one of these ill-fated RS/6000 machines which (by no fault of its own) plays a major role in this story.

One day, I came to work to find my team-leader in quite a tizzy -- cursing and ranting about our VAR selling us bad equipment; about how IBM just doesn't make good hardware like they did in the good old days; about how back when _he_ was in charge of buying equipment this wouldn't happen, and on and on and on.

Our primary AIX dev server was powered off when he arrived. He booted it up, checked logs and was running self-diagnostics, but absolutely nothing so far indicated why the machine had shut down. We blew a couple of hours trying to figure out what happened, to no avail. Eventually, with other deadlines looming, we just chalked it up be something we'll look into more later.

Several days went by, with the usual day-to-day comings and goings; no surprises.

Then, next week, it happened again.

My team-leader was LIVID. The same server was hard-down again when he came in; no explanation. He opened a ticket with IBM and put in a call to our VAR rep, demanding answers -- how could they sell us bad equipment -- why isn't there any indication of what's failing -- someone must come out here and fix this NOW, and on and on and on.

(As a quick aside, in case it's not clearly coming through between-the-lines, our team leader was always a little bit "over to top" for me. He was the kind of person who "got things done," and as long as you stayed on his good side, you could just watch the fireworks most days - but it became pretty exhausting sometimes).

Back our story -
An IBM CE comes out and does a full on-site hardware diagnostic -- tears the whole server down, runs through everything one part a time. Absolutely. Nothing. Wrong.

I recall, at some point of all this, making the comment "It's almost like someone just pulls the plug on it -- like the power just, poof, goes away."

My team-leader demands the CE replace the power supply, even though it appeared to be operating normally. He does, at our cost, of course.

Another weeks goes by and all is forgotten in the swamp of work we have to do.

Until one day, the next week... Yes, you guessed it... It happens again. The server is down. Heads are exploding (will at least one head we all know by now). With all the screaming going on, the entire office staff should have comped some Advil.

My team-leader demands the facilities team do a full diagnostic on the UPS system and assure we aren't getting drop-outs on the power system. They do the diagnostic. They also review the logs for the power/load distribution to the entire lab and office spaces. Nothing is amiss.

This would also be a good time draw the picture of where this server is -- this particular server is not in the actual server room, it's out in the office area. That's on purpose, since it is connected to a demo robotics cabinet we use for testing and POC work. And customer demos. This will date me, but these were the days when robotic storage was new and VERY exciting to watch...

So, this is basically a couple of big boxes out on the office floor, with power cables running into a special power-drop near the middle of the room. That information might seem superfluous now, but will come into play shortly in our story.

So, we still have no answer to what's causing the server problems, but we all have work to do, so we keep plugging away, hoping for the best.

The team leader is insisting the VAR swap in a new server.

One night, we (the device-driver team) are working late, burning the midnight oil, right there in the office, and we bear witness to something I will never forget.

The cleaning staff came in.

Anxious for a brief distraction from our marathon of debugging, we stopped to watch them set up and start cleaning the office for a bit.

Then, friends, I Am Not Making This Up(tm)... I watched one of the cleaning staff walk right over to that beautiful RS/6000 dev server, dwarfed in shadow beside that huge robotic disc enclosure... and yank the server power cable right out of the dedicated power drop. And plug in their vacuum cleaner. And vacuum the floor.

We each looked at one-another, slowly, in bewilderment... and then went home, after a brief discussion on the way out the door.

You see, our team-leader wasn't with us that night; so before we left, we all agreed to come in late the next day. Very late indeed.

"You gave us bad code! We ran it and now production is DOWN! Join this bridgeline now and help us fix this!"

So, as the author of the code in question, I join the bridge... And what happens next, I will simply never forget.

First, a little backstory... Another team within our company needed some vendor client software installed and maintained across the enterprise. Multiple OSes (Linux, AIX, Solaris, HPUX, etc.), so packaging and consistent update methods were a a challenge. I wrote an entire set of utilities to install, update and generally maintain the software; intending all the time that this other team would eventually own the process and code. With this in mind, I wrote extensive documentation, and conducted a formal turnover / training season with the other team.

So, fast forward to when the other team now owns my code, has been trained on how to use it, including (perhaps most importantly) how to send out updates when the vendor released upgrades to the agent software.

Now, this other team had the responsibility of releasing their first update since I gave them the process. Very simple upgrade process, already fully automated. What could have gone so horribly wrong? Did something the vendor supplied break their client?

I asked for the log files from the upgrade process. They sent them, and they looked... wrong. Very, very wrong.

Did you run the code I gave you to do this update?

"Yes, your code is broken - fix it! Production is down! Rabble, rabble, rabble!"

So, I go into our code management tool and review the _actual_ script they ran. Sure enough, it is my code... But something is very wrong.

More than 2/3rds of my code... has been commented out. The code is "there"... but has been commented out so it is not being executed. WT-actual-F?!

I question this on the bridge line. Silence. I insist someone explain what is going on. Is this a joke? Is this some kind of work version of candid camera?
Finally someone breaks the silence and explains.

And this, my friends, is the part I will never forget.

"We wanted to look through your code before we ran the update. When we looked at it, there was some stuff we didn't understand, so we commented that stuff out."

You... you didn't... understand... my some of the code... so you... you didn't ask me about it... you didn't try to actually figure out what it did... you... commented it OUT?!

"Right, we figured it was better to only run the parts we understood... But now we ran it and everything is broken and you need to fix your code."

I cannot repeat the things I said next, even here on devRant. Let's just say that call did not go well.

So, lesson learned? If you don't know what some code does? Just comment that shit out. Then blame the original author when it doesn't work.

You just cannot make this kind of stuff up.

Received "emergency update" code from internal enterprise security team. Wasn't given time to do code review; was assured code was reviewed and solid.

Pushed code to over 6k lower-level servers before finding this gem buried deep within:
...
cd /foo; rm -rf *; cd /
...

(This ran as root, and yes, the cwd was / from earlier in the code).

/foo, of course, did not exist on some servers.

Now, it is those servers which do not exist.

FML