One comment from @Fast-Nop made me remember something I had promised myself not to. Specifically the USB thing.
So there I was, Lieutenant Jr at a warship (not the one my previous rants refer to), my main duties as navigation officer, and secondary (and unofficial) tech support and all-around "computer guy".
Those of you who don't know what horrors this demonic brand pertains to, I envy you. But I digress. In the ship, we had Ethernet cabling and switches, but no DHCP, no server, not a thing. My proposition was shot down by the CO within 2 minutes. Yet, we had a curious "network". As my fellow... colleagues had invented, we had something akin to token ring, but instead of tokens, we had low-rank personnel running around with USB sticks, and as for "rings", well, anyone could snatch up a USB-carrier and load his data and instructions to the "token". What on earth could go wrong with that system?
What indeed.
We got 1 USB infected with a malware from a nearby ship - I still don't know how. Said malware did the following observable actions(yes, I did some malware analysis - As I said before, I am not paid enough):
- Move the contents on any writeable media to a folder with empty (or space) name on that medium. Windows didn't show that folder, so it became "invisible" - linux/mac showed it just fine
- It created a shortcut on the root folder of said medium, right to the malware. Executing the shortcut executed the malware and opened a new window with the "hidden" folder.
Childishly simple, right? If only you knew. If only you knew the horrors, the loss of faith in humanity (which is really bad when you have access to munitions, explosives and heavy weaponry).
People executed the malware ON PURPOSE. Some actually DISABLED their AV to "access their files". I ran amok for an entire WEEK to try to keep this contained. But... I underestimated the USB-token-ring-whatever protocol's speed and the strength of a user's stupidity. PCs that I cleaned got infected AGAIN within HOURS.
I had to address the CO to order total shutdown, USB and PC turnover to me. I spent the most fun weekend cleaning 20-30 PCs and 9 USBs. What fun!
What fun, morons. Now I'll have nightmares of those days again.

Insecure... My laptop disk is encrypted, but I'm using a fairly weak password. 🤔

Oh, you mean psychological.

Working at a startup in crisis time. Might lose my job if the company goes under.

I'm a Tech lead, Senior Backender, DB admin, Debugger, Solutions Architect, PR reviewer.

In practice, that means zero portfolio. Truth be told, I can sniff out issues with your code, but can't code features for shit. I really just don't have the patience to actually BUILD things.

I'm pretty much the town fool who angrily yells at managers for being dumb, rolls his eyes when he finds hacky code, then disappears into his cave to repair and refactor the mess other people made.

I totally suck at interviews, unless the interviewer really loves comparing Haskell's & Rust's type systems, or something equally useless.

I'm grumpy, hedonistic and brutally straight forward. Some coworkers call me "refreshing" and "direct but reasonable", others "barely tolerable" or even "fundamentally unlikable".

I'm not sure if they actually mean it, or are just messing with me, but by noon I'm either too deep into code, or too much under influence of cognac & LSD, wearing too little clothing, having interesting conversations WITH instead of AT the coffee machine, to still care about what other humans think.

There have been moments where I coded for 72 hours straight to fix a severe issue, and I would take a bullet to save this company from going under... But there have also been days where I called my boss a "A malicious tumor, slowly infecting all departments and draining the life out of the company with his cancerous ideas" — to his face.

I count myself lucky to still have a very well paying job, where many others are struggling to pay bills or have lost their income completely.

But I realize I'm really not that easy to work with... Over time, I've recruited a team of compatible psychopaths and misfits, from a Ukranian ex-military explosives expert & brilliant DB admin to a Nigerian crossfitting gay autist devops weeb, to a tiny alcoholic French machine learning fanatic, to the paranoid "how much keef is there in my beard" architecture lead who is convinced covid-19 is linked to the disappearance of MH370 and looks like he bathes in pig manure.

So... I would really hate to ever have to look for a new employer.

I would really hate to ever lose my protective human meat shield... I mean, my "team".

I feel like, despite having worked to get my Karma deep into the red by calling people all kinds of rude things, things are really quite sweet for me.

I'm fucking terrified that this peak could be temporary, that there's a giant ravine waiting for me, to remind me that life is a ruthless bitch and that all the good things were totally undeserved.

Ah well, might as well stay in character...

*taunts fate with a raised middlefinger*

Currently I live in the city Utrecht. Right now a terrorist attack is happening next to my school with explosives and I'm at school right now.

Waiting it out now!

For small explosives, you wear an explosives suit — it can absorb the impact of a standard hand grenade.
For big explosives, you wear a T-shirt: with that big of a destructive force, explosives suits are gonna protect you as good as a sheet of 2 ply toilet paper. But not wearing a heavy and bulky suit gives you that much more visibility and dexterity you do need in your situation.

Imagine Baymax, but with more explosives and shit

I live in an unstable region, so I'm always ready for surprise curfews or my aunt dropping by uninvited to borrow some cooking oil. To protect my future from both, I swept $530,000 under the floor in Bitcoin- my emergency parachute.
Well, things went downhill. Protesters filled the streets like a rowdy rave, with pepper spray in place of glow sticks. In the chaos, security personnel took my laptop and everything that wasn't bolted down. That's where I store the keys to my Bitcoin wallet. When I say I swallowed a brick, I am not kidding.
I pictured myself telling my future self, who lived under a tarp, how I used to have half a million dollars but lost it since I had forgotten to encrypt my drive. "Great job, Past Me," I would be saying while heating canned beans over a candle.
But fate, or possibly my guardian angel who was finally done laughing at me, intervened. During a hushed meeting with a journalist friend (we whispered like we were plotting an espionage thriller), he mentioned Tech Cyber Force Recovery. These folks were not just tech geniuses; they practically wore digital capes.
I phoned, and the reassuring voice I received was so reassuring, I almost asked them to fix my love life too. They labored in their homes with the frenzy of an explosives specialist defusing a bomb. They constructed my wallet information from recovery fragments I barely remember creating. It was like magic shows where magicians extract bills from a hat, except the hat has been confiscated by the authorities.
Thirteen days passed, and I received the call. My money had been returned. I was so relieved that I hugged my aunt, who naturally took the chance to request additional cooking oil.
Tech Cyber Force Recovery did not just save my Bitcoin; they saved my future. And they gave me a newfound respect for proper backups and encryption. If you are in a tricky spot or just want to avoid awkward family requests during every political crisis, call them. They are the real deal and possibly part wizard, part therapist.

CALL OR WHATSAPP THEM THOUGH
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