Remy Porter

Computers were a mistake, which is why I'm trying to shoot them into space. Editor-in-Chief for TDWTF.

May 2010

Code Refuse

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Jeff was excited by his new project. His company wanted to add an ASP.NET interface to the same database used by one of their Windows Forms applications. For this company, "application integration" meant that two programs looked at the same database. Any change to a database and every application using it had to be updated, individually.

Since Jeff's first day at the company, he had been frustrated by the lack of code reuse, and this was a text-book example of where code reuse should work. He could grab the Windows team's DAL and business layer, slap a web front end, get the project done in a fraction of the time allotted for it, and make sure future maintenance helped both applications. Optimistically, it could be a model for future applications in his company.


Astigmatism

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Greg bought the promises of the startup. They wanted him to step in and take a mentoring role on a cutting edge, object oriented, SaaS project that was promised to be "a game changer". There would be stock options, a friendly workplace, and a savvy CEO that was deeply involved in the design process. Despite the buzzword-bingo, it sounded promising, and the interviews went well.

The small office was laid out like a Starbucks, complete with eye-strain inducing dim lighting. The core developers sat around a long table, clacking away at their laptops and cracking in-jokes over coffee. It was very chummy, and Greg wasn't part of the crowd yet; they'd need to sniff each other's posteriors and decide who was the alpha in this pack.


Minefield

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Peter watched the Newton's Cradle clack away on his desk while contemplating this most recent problem. HR had just handed him a resume for a C# developer named Bobbie. The resume was stellar, her references glowing, And thanks to the negotiations with the placement company, she could start on Monday. Bobbie wasn't just qualified, she was over-qualified. She could do Peter's job in a snap.

He tossed the resume in the trash and stepped out into the row of cubes dedicated to his small staff. "Hey guys, circle up," he said. His three staff shuffled to their cube entrances and stared blankly in his general direction. "This tardiness problem is getting out of hand. The day starts at 8AM, not 8:05. And don't think I haven't noticed the long lunches. If this keeps up, there may have to be some changes around here."