The Sacred Driver Version Sanctuary

Computer scientists: "Let's discuss if this system can solve any computable problem!" Me, a practical developer: "Cool theory bro, but can it run Doom?" The "Can it run Doom?" test has become the unofficial benchmark for computing devices since the 90s. Forget your fancy theoretical computer science - if your toaster, calculator, or pregnancy test can run a demon-slaying game from 1993, that's when you've truly made it in tech.

Ah, the classic Scooby-Doo unmasking format but with a cybersecurity twist! Your CPU's pegged at 100% and you're thinking it's just normal load... until you pull off the mask and—surprise!—it's actually a sophisticated state-sponsored backdoor quietly mining crypto or exfiltrating your data. That xz exploit in a nutshell. Eight months of silent operation before anyone noticed. Just another Tuesday in infosec where the real villains aren't wearing monster costumes, they're wearing nation-state budgets.

The noble aspirations of AI research versus the grim reality of where computational power actually goes. On the left, we have AI detecting breast cancer 5 years before it develops—potentially saving countless lives. On the right, some poor GPU is being absolutely tortured to render a cow at 15 FPS in what appears to be the world's jankiest video game, complete with a rage-filled gamer screaming about "fake frames." It's the perfect encapsulation of humanity's priorities: we build supercomputers that could solve humanity's greatest challenges, then immediately use them to make slightly better cow animations. The bottom corner showing all those graphics settings (RTX, DLSS, etc.) is just the chef's kiss of overkill for whatever that monstrosity is supposed to be.

The duality of developers in their natural habitat. While gaming enthusiasts insist that anything below 80fps is basically a slideshow presentation, backend devs are just happy their decade-old codebase still compiles without setting the server room on fire. The fancy Pooh represents all of us who've had to deploy to production on a Friday and whispered those magical words: "If it runs, it's good enough" before immediately turning off Slack notifications for the weekend.

The moment you mention you "work with computers," your entire extended family suddenly transforms into a horde of technological zombies with broken printers and forgotten passwords. It's like being the only doctor at a hypochondriac convention, except instead of asking if that mole looks cancerous, it's "Why is my Facebook doing that thing?" What thing? THE thing. You know. THAT thing. And they all expect immediate tech support during Thanksgiving dinner while your turkey gets cold and your will to live evaporates faster than RAM in a Chrome tab.

The eternal computer science debate that makes absolutely no sense to normal humans: endianness. On the left, the logical person crying because "end" should refer to what comes last (little-endian should be MSB first). On the right, Danny Cohen smugly enjoying the chaos he created by naming it backwards - where "big end" refers to the most significant byte coming first. For the uninitiated: endianness determines how multi-byte values are stored in memory. It's like arguing whether to read a number from left-to-right or right-to-left, except we've been fighting about it since the 1980s and nobody will ever surrender.