“Hey, can I make money trading crypto?" — For technologists, this question is starting to feel like the new, “Can you fix my computer?”
Except that this question is so much worse, the stakes so much higher. So my response is to get all shifty and uncomfortable, launching into an super subtle staring contest with my drink.
Of course, the short answer is an eyebrow scrunching, lip puckering, “um… yes…?".
And yes, that’s a “yes” couched delicately between two ellipses, like an egg in the mouth of a Golden Retriever. Because “yes” is also the answer to a question like, “Can I be a spaceman and fly to the moon?”
I saw a tweet the other day that said, “the scariest thing about COVID-19 is that it looks like a JIRA ticket.” That is scary!
Gets you thinking though: What if COVID-19 were a JIRA ticket for a software bug? Can we unearth a lesson or two about how to prevent bugs from sneaking into our haloed code repositories and affecting our users?
What if your favorite programming language was actually moonlighting as a running shoe? What would it feel like to run in it? Say no more, because here they are, and in no particular order. It’s just a heap of running shoes.
C Programming in C is like running barefoot. It’s just you and the hard asphalt, the bare metal. Or maybe the grass, if you’re fortunate. In fact, you may need some grass, after your first buffer overrun pierces your foot and leads to that humiliating international incident.
“Voice hoarse, I heaved a huge shoulder-slumping sigh. I’d just wanted to maximize the thing. Instead there I was yelling at all the kids on my lawn, throwing rocks at a cloud, ranting on about non-existent terms like Trust-Driven-Development. Who hurt me, you ask?”
It was the forth annual company campout and we were huddled around the fire pit swapping horror stories gathered from the dark depths of the software industry, holding the fire at bay with an array of steely s’more forks.
Wouldn’t it be cool to send out an SMS SOS with the touch of a button? Like your own private SMS Bat-Signal!
I’ll show you how to do it using Twilio and an Azure Function. Here’s an overview of the simple architecture:
/--> | |--> 📱 |--(HTTP POST)--> [ Azure Func 𝛌 ] ---> | Twilio |--> 📱 \--> | |--> 📱 Simple, right? Let’s paint the clouds red, 160 characters at a time.
🤜 💥 🤛
Not so long ago, in an office so very close, an imperial trooper used the same p@$$w0rd on every single site.
The onus of easy peasy pwnage led to separate and proper passwords for important sites, led to plasticky back pats, led to proud promotions.
But an imperial trooper’s memory banks are only yea big and only hold yea many passwords.
“Hey, can I see you in my office?”
Whatever important tasks hung spinning in the air around you darken to match your widening pupils, then plummet to the floor in a slow-motion Broadway disaster. Eight words and the serene, ever-smiling avatar of your boss.
Prologue: Merek vs the Old Library The last tattered shred of hope clung limply to its flagpole and flew at half mast.
“Where did we go wrong?", Merek grimaced. Hopes in Köd Kingdom had flown so high, higher than the green and black banners billowing proudly atop the castle spires. The day they’d broken ground— the popping corks and howling cheers still echoed mirthfully down his ear canals. Only the wind howled now.
I won’t kid you; the road to course creation is riddled with potholes, roadblocks, and sketchy checkpoints. It was hard. But the solution to each obstacle taught me new skills and valuable life lessons. I think it’s time to document those lessons.