Recent Feature Articles

Oct 2008

What the Ad?

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A few weeks ago, TDWTF contributor Mark Bowytz shared some fun classic computer ads. Apparently, Mark has an entire attic filled with Byte magazine and other '80s computer magazines, and has dug through them to pull out some more. Stay tuned for more What the Ad?...


Here, Mr. Shatner says, in his smoothest voice, "Buy a Commodore, you know you want to. Look at the features - appreciate the value. I know technology. I know computers, I'm. the. Captain. Of. The. Enterprise!!"


Effective Immediately

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Photo Credit: sparktography @ FlickrEvery job has its quirks. That’s what Kirk reassuringly told himself on his first day of work after meeting the company’s most egregious quirk, The Colonel. Kirk wasn’t quite sure if the impeccably-dressed man’s gruff introduction – which solely consisted of looking Kirk up, then down, then up again, and scoffing “that’s a pretty sad excuse for a Double Windsor” – was in jest or contempt, so he stuck with a the more palatable label of quirky. Fortunately, by the time Kirk realized that deranged was much more appropriate than quirky, he knew that he’d never have to personally work with The Colonel: the chain-of-command simply wouldn’t allow for it.

Having spent the larger part of his life in the military, The Colonel faithfully chose the same rigid structure for his civilian venture, a technology start-up that developed real-time logistics tracking systems. The “high-discipline” company worked well for the first year or so, as The Colonel had only hired ex-military employees and had only solicited to the military. However, when it came time to expand into the private industry, a few concessions were needed to attract the less-disciplined civilian talent: health benefits, sixty-minute lunch breaks, casual Fridays, etc. Of course, the company’s core values – chain-of-command, strict rules, top-of-the-line accommodations for executives, and so on – would never change.

A Good Problem to Have


The Ralph Code

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Ralph's rage was the stuff of legend – and it was equaled only by his anal-retentiveness.

Ben had heard horror stories about Ralph and shrugged them off as exaggerations fostered by years of oral tradition. If the rumors were to be believed, Ralph could breathe fire and was the height of three men. Probably the stereotypical Nick Burns-esque IT guy, he reasoned.


Cached Out

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As a development manager at a midsize custom software shop, Kyle had seen his share of sticker shock. Fooled by the "Custom Apps, Only $499.99" -- type ads seen in the back of popular tech magazines, naive entrepreneurs would occasionally approach Kyle in the hopes that his company could build the next dot-com wonder-site overnight for $1,000, or maybe $2,000.

For this reason, Kyle had learned to start things off by reminding the seemingly less-serious prospects that custom software is often a five- to seven-figure investment. But before learning this trick, he found out the hard way that many companies have no intention of spending that much on software, no matter how productive their businesses will become or how much money they'll save.


The Blight

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Photo Credit: sparktography @ Flickr It was 11:30 in the morning, and Dante (as we'll call him) was more than ready for lunch. His stomach let out a low growl to remind him that he'd skipped breakfast and had a light dinner the previous night. Embarrassed, he leaned forward to stifle the growl. Just 30 more minutes. Dante wished he could go to lunch right then, but his colleague that he was going with was in a meeting until noon. He tried to keep his thoughts on other things, but couldn't stay focused. His pencil cup looked like it was full of pretzels, his wall clock looked like a cake, and the nearby receptionist looked like ham. His hallucinations were interrupted by the phone.

"Yeah, Dante, this is *SNORT* Earl. Gonna need you to *HACK* come down by my office for a bit." His caller then spit what could only be described as a phlegmy disaster. The kind of horror that defies otomotopeia.


Yo Ho, Yo Ho, A Pirate's Life for Lee

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Survey Time! Please take a few moments to fill out the brief The Daily WTF Reader Survey. Thanks!


On Steve J.'s second day on the job, he wasn't quite sure what to make of Lee. Steve had only briefly met Lee the day before while he was getting his first day rites of humiliation — awkward introductions to all sorts of people with the typical mutual feigned interest. Lee was different, though. Lee's back was to them, he had a pair of headphones on and was nodding his head to the beat, gently drumming his fingers on the keyboard.


Anatomii of a Hack

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In the 1980's we loved Nintendo. And even better, in the 1980's Nintendo loved us. They gave us games, we played them. They gave us cereal that was basically Kix with fun Nintendo-themed boxes, and we ate it and pretended to like it. They gave us movies like Super Mario Bros., widely considered the greatest film in the history of filmmakingcitation needed. We watched the cartoons, learned how to Do the Mario (ideal if the Macarena is too complex for you), slept in the sheets, memorized the codes, subscribed to Nintendo Power, and hooked up all manner of ridiculous equipment to our TVs.

Lately, though, Nintendo has all but turned its back on us. Mainstream acceptance of the Wii has resulted in less core games like Pikmin and F-Zero, and more casual games like Big Brain Academy, WiiFit, Babyz Party, and Bob Ross Painting. And seriously, who wants those? I'm pretty sure the Big Brain Academy isn't accredited, we're not 40 year old women, parties attended only by babies are just awkward, and Bob Ross... actually, that game sounds pretty rad. Still, Nintendo hasn't been servicing the core gamer as much as they did in the SNES days, so many of us have moved on to the Xbox 360 and the PStriple. Hector Martin, however, is more ambitious, and set out to do what any real geek would. Try to hack the thing!


For Security Purposes, Of Course

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If you think back to the last job you regretted taking, there’s probably at least one non-defining moment that you wish you had paid more attention to. To any outsider, that harbingering moment – be it when the boss asked you to pick up his drycleaning (jokingly, of course) or when your coworker gave you the “First Day Hug” – would have immediately sounded the something-is-seriously-wrong alarm. But, blinded by optimism of the job opportunity, that moment – and many subsequent other moments – get simply written off as “quirks of the new job.” For Leigh, who had recently started as a development manager at a small software shop, that first non-defining moment was on her first day, when she met Shredder.

Shredder didn’t get his moniker by wearing a spiked helmet, purple cape, and blade-covered metal pauldrons. In fact, he even had a soft spot for ninja turtles. As it turned out, Shredder’s name came from the fact that his job entailed feeding sheet after sheet of paper into the company’s relatively-small paper shredder. That, and tech support.


The .NET Bridge to Nowhere

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For as long as The City (as I'll call it) has supplied water to its residents, it has had one big headache called "The Annual Water Survey." Like residents of all large metropolises, The City's residents want to make sure the water they drink has only a miniscule amount of the "bad stuff," such as heavy metals and pathogens, and just the right amount of the "good stuff" -- chlorine, fluoride, etc. The water survey -- a 100-plus-page report that details test after test after test -- was their vote of confidence.

Compiling the survey had always been a long and tedious process. At first, field technicians would take samples from across The City, add drops of various indicator chemicals and record the results in their logbooks. From there, lab technicians would transcribe the numbers and use special slide rules to create tables of meaningful results. Typists would then compile the various tables into a giant binder and send it off for duplication.


The CEO's Sycophant

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No one really liked Martin P. This is not to say that Martin was unlikeable per se, it’s just that everyone seemed to have a hard time getting over his unofficial title: the CEO’s sycophant.

In all fairness to Martin, he never really aspired to become the CEO’s sycophant. Or anyone’s sycophant for that matter. He simply saw a job advertisement – Windows Software Engineer – applied for it, interviewed, and accepted the offer. Little did he know that he’d be the company’s first non-UNIX developer. Or that he’d report directly to the Head of Research & Development instead of one of the several development managers. Or that the Head of Research & Development also happened to be the CEO.


The Hot Room

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For as long as anyone could remember, there had always been two server rooms: the Cool Room and the Hot Room. The Cool Room was exactly what you’d expect a server room at a mid-sized technology services firm to be: floor-to-ceiling racks along the walls filled with various servers, battery backups, monitors, and KVMs, all tied together with Ethernet and power cables that were neatly tucked in their trays. And, of course, it was a cool 65°F thanks to a pair of dedicated air conditioning units.

The Hot Room, on the other hand, was more like a server closet. It was a cramped 8’ by 10’ room that housed core telecommunications equipment including the firewalls, routers, switches, VPN concentrators, and the PBX system. This room also served as the central hub for the facility’s wiring and had hundreds of cat5 cable running through countless junction boxes. And, of course, it was a sweltering 98°F thanks to all of the equipment that had become even hotter to the touch.


Meet Burt

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"Root beer guy." That's what Dale had always called Burt in his internal monologue. He occupied a similar space in Dale's mind with "Too much makeup" lady, "I always go tanning" guy, and "I always talk about horses" lady. Burt was one of the ever-present background characters of the office, his only differentiating trait a bottle of root beer. And even though he was a net-admin and Dale worked helpdesk, their paths had never really crossed.

That all changed one day when groups from the two departments went out together for lunch. This moniker Dale had assigned to Burt was reinforced when the both lined up when they were about to buy their tacos. "Anything to drink?" the taco-hawking seductress asked.