Kind of disappointing that devrant rewards and attracts bot'esque accounts for exclusively re-posting facebook memes - with stickers.

Those accounts are even as bold to constantly spam everywhere "HOW LONG DID IT TAKE FOR YOU TO GET THEM?" as if they are entitled to next day delivery, feels wasted and especially insulting to people that actually use and flourish the platform.

Not really great input nor constructive criticism, more a vent, because I know that it's the "maybe some of the shit will stick" idea - maybe some of those shit posters will turn to actual content creators on here or them being free advertisement to maybe less useless beings.

Everywhere you go, you find these memes where developers are skeptical of their work. Things like "It works. I don't know how. It doesn't work. I don't know how.". Don't you guys think this is a huge problem? And people say that their programming language is the best, because preference. But isn't this happening because our tools suck?

Yes the problems maybe inherently complex but at least we should be able to figure out the logic behind the snipper and reason about it.

Haven't really experienced it, but they say Haskell and the likes are great at this and it must be true because it's backed by mathematical properties and laws, not " experience".

So the rant here is, wish we had better tools in the mainstream that allowed us to enjoy absolute faith in at least what we have written, regardless of the fact that we understood the problem in the domain.

I should try to put ascii arts of pepe memes instead of meaningful error handling messages in my code, this way I would know for sure if people are actually not just patching fucking try catch silence everywhere instead of doing proper code.

I should probably do the same with documentation as well while being at it.

when you see a bug in your code:

I should make a meme about this

Once upon a time in the exciting world of web development, there was a talented yet somewhat clumsy web developer named Emily. Emily had a natural flair for coding and a deep passion for creating innovative websites. But, alas, there was a small caveat—Emily also had a knack for occasional mishaps.

One sunny morning, Emily arrived at the office feeling refreshed and ready to tackle a brand new project. The task at hand involved making some updates to a live website's database. Now, databases were like the brains of websites, storing all the precious information that kept them running smoothly. It was a delicate dance of tables, rows, and columns that demanded utmost care.

Determined to work efficiently, Emily delved headfirst into the project, fueled by a potent blend of coffee and enthusiasm. Fingers danced across the keyboard as lines of code flowed onto the screen like a digital symphony. Everything seemed to be going splendidly until...

Click

With an absentminded flick of the wrist, Emily unintentionally triggered a command that sent shivers down the spines of seasoned developers everywhere: DROP DATABASE production;.

A heavy silence fell over the office as the gravity of the situation dawned upon Emily. In the blink of an eye, the production database, containing all the valuable data of the live website, had been deleted. Panic began to bubble up, but instead of succumbing to despair, Emily's face contorted into a peculiar mix of terror and determination.

"Code red! Database emergency!" Emily exclaimed, wildly waving their arms as colleagues rushed to the scene. The office quickly transformed into a bustling hive of activity, with developers scrambling to find a solution.

Sarah, the leader of the IT team and a cool-headed veteran, stepped forward. She observed the chaos and immediately grasped the severity of the situation. A wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Alright, folks, let's turn this catastrophe into a triumph!" Sarah declared, rallying the team around Emily. They formed a circle, with Emily now sporting an eye-catching pink cowboy hat—an eccentric colleague's lucky charm.

With newfound confidence akin to that of a comedic hero, Emily embraced their role and began spouting jokes, puns, and amusing anecdotes. Tension in the room slowly dissipated as the team realized that panicking wouldn't fix the issue.

Meanwhile, Sarah sprang into action, devising a plan to recover the lost database. They set up backup systems, executed data retrieval scripts, and even delved into the realm of advanced programming techniques that could be described as a hint of magic. The team worked tirelessly, fueled by both caffeine and the contagious laughter that filled the air.

As the hours ticked by, the team managed to reconstruct the production database, salvaging nearly all of the lost data. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. And in the end, the mishap transformed into a wellspring of inside jokes and memes that permeated the office.

From that day forward, Emily became known as the "Database Destroyer," a moniker forever etched into the annals of office lore. Yet, what could have been a disastrous event instead became a moment of unity and resilience. The incident served as a reminder that mistakes are inevitable and that the best way to tackle them is with humor and teamwork.

And so, armed with a touch of silliness and an abundance of determination, Emily continued their journey in web development, spreading laughter and code throughout the digital realm.