GitHub Actions Radicalized Me

The shocking revelation that code repositories contain... gasp ... actual code! The wide-eyed cat perfectly captures that moment of existential crisis when you finally venture into GitHub after months of copy-pasting from Stack Overflow. What did you expect to find? Documentation? Comments? Reasonable variable names? Foolish mortal. It's just an endless void of cryptic functions written by sleep-deprived developers who left the company three years ago.

The digital suicide note of a developer who's seen the abyss. What started as beautiful, elegant PHP code has morphed into an eldritch horror thanks to the ultimate villain: deadlines. That desperate plea to "turn back the clock" and "revert the commits" is the coding equivalent of finding "HELP ME" written in blood on the walls. Technical debt isn't just accumulating interest here—it's staging a hostile takeover. First day on the job and you find this? Your options are clear: quietly close the laptop, hand in your resignation, and consider a peaceful career in goat farming.

The eternal side project dilemma: two buttons labeled "spend days debugging broken code" or "trash it all and restart from scratch." And there you are, sweating profusely, halfway through the project, calculating if those 47 Stack Overflow solutions you've duct-taped together are worth salvaging. The real genius of side projects isn't finishing them—it's the impressive collection of half-completed Git repositories you'll accumulate. Your GitHub is basically a digital graveyard of "I'll get back to this someday" promises.

You spend hours crafting beautiful Python code, push it to GitHub all proud, and then... *crickets* 🦗 The only response? Three orangutans staring blankly asking "where exe" because they just want the executable! They don't care about your elegant list comprehensions or your perfectly commented functions. They just want to click something and watch it go brrr! ✨ This is why we can't have nice things in programming. Some people just want to run the app without appreciating the beautiful chaos that made it possible!

The SHEER AUDACITY of those forkers! You spend HOURS tracking down a hideous bug in a repository, dragging your soul through the mud of someone else's code, only to discover that FIFTY-SEVEN people forked the project and NOT A SINGLE ONE bothered to fix it! They just... synchronized with the original like mindless drones! What's the point of open source if everyone's just going to copy-paste the same broken garbage?! The collective disappointment is CRUSHING. It's like opening the fridge fifty times hoping food will magically appear, but it's STILL EMPTY EVERY TIME! 😭

The bell curve of git commit sanity. On the left, the blissfully ignorant junior dev who squashes multiple feature changes into a single commit. On the right, the battle-hardened senior who does the same because life's too short. And in the middle? The poor mid-level developer meticulously separating each feature into its own commit, following best practices that nobody actually reads in the git log. The sweet irony of development—you either die a hero or live long enough to stop caring about commit granularity.