Love sucks

Programming Sucks Composed on the 27th of April in the yearat Every friend I have with a job that involves picking up something heavier than a laptop more than twice a week eventually finds a way to slip something like this into conversation: I just worked a hour week digging a tunnel under Mordor with a screwdriver. But, for the sake of the argument, can we agree that stress and insanity are bad things?

Love sucks

Programming Sucks Composed on the 27th of April in the yearat Every friend I have with a job that Love sucks picking up something heavier than a laptop more than twice a week eventually finds a way to slip something like this into conversation: I just worked a hour week digging a tunnel under Mordor with a screwdriver.

But, for the sake of the argument, can we agree that stress and insanity are bad things? All programming teams are constructed by and of crazy people Imagine joining an engineering team.

You start by meeting Mary, project leader for a bridge in a major metropolitan area. Mary introduces you to Fred, after you get through the fifteen security checks installed by Dave because Dave had his sweater stolen off his desk once and Never Again. Would you drive across this bridge?

If it somehow got built, everybody involved would be executed. Sometimes they wrote it, sometimes they found it and knew they had to save it. They read over the lines, and weep at their beauty, then the tears turn bitter as they remember the rest of the files and the inevitable collapse of all that is good and true in the world.

This file is Good Code. It has sensible and consistent names for functions and variables. It has never had to live in the wild, or answer to a sales team.

It does exactly one, mundane, specific thing, and it does it well. It was written by a single person, and never touched by another. It reads like poetry written by someone over thirty. Every programmer starts out writing some perfect little snowflake like this.

Next week, everybody shovels more snow on it to keep the Picasso from falling over. There will always be darkness I spent a few years growing up with a closet in my bedroom.

Love sucks

The closet had an odd design. It looked normal at first, then you walked in to do closet things, and discovered that the wall on your right gave way to an alcove, making for a handy little shelf.

Then you looked up, and the wall at the back of the alcove gave way again, into a crawlspace of utter nothingness, where no light could fall and which you immediately identified as the daytime retreat for every ravenous monster you kept at bay with flashlights and stuffed animals each night.

This is what it is to learn programming. You get to know your useful tools, then you look around, and there are some handy new tools nearby and those tools show you the bottomless horror that was always right next to your bed.

You now have one extra little fact to tuck away in the millions of little facts you have to memorize because so many of the programs you depend on are written by dicks and idiots. Not a single living person knows how everything in your five-year-old MacBook actually works.

Why do we tell you to turn it off and on again? A lot of work is done on the internet and the internet is its own special hellscape Remember that stuff about crazy people and bad code?

Websites that are glorified shopping carts with maybe three dynamic pages are maintained by teams of people around the clock, because the truth is everything is breaking all the time, everywhere, for everyone. Right now someone who works for Facebook is getting tens of thousands of error messages and frantically trying to find the problem before the whole charade collapses.

And if these people stop, the world burns. Ever heard of 4chan? Anybody with a couple of hundred dollars and a computer can snag a little bit of the internet and put up whatever awful chunks of hack code they want and then attach their little bit to a bunch of big bits and everything gets a little bit worse.

Here are the secret rules of the internet: Did you sign up for something? A computer at the NSA now automatically tracks your physical location for the rest of your life. Your email address just went up on a billboard in Nigeria.

How about this exchange: You can still find Jesus.Synopsis. Love is life, life as it is. Not every love story is a fairy tale. After a dramatic wedding feast, unusual love stories unfold towards unexpected endings.

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I /5. 16% said they were “somewhat satisfied.” The rest, nearly two-thirds of respondents, said they were not happy at work.. That sucks. What a horrible way to spend half of your waking hours, doing something you don’t enjoy.

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