Backups Are Overrated

Ah, the digital equivalent of homeopathy! This meme brilliantly parodies the misguided logic of "what doesn't kill your PC makes it stronger." The top panel shows a disinterested Pooh bear representing the boring, responsible approach of using antivirus software as intended. Meanwhile, fancy tuxedo Pooh in the bottom panel represents the galaxy-brain move of deliberately downloading viruses to "train" your computer's immune system—as if your Dell XPS is going to start developing antibodies after surviving a trojan. It's basically CrossFit for your CPU, except instead of gaining muscle, you're just losing all your banking credentials.

The Linux sysadmin's equivalent of "abracadabra" - just prefix any command with sudo and watch your permissions problems vanish into thin air. Can't install that package? Sudo. File won't delete? Sudo. Server on fire? Probably sudo. It's the universal skeleton key that grants you god-mode privileges on Unix systems. Sure, you could carefully consider whether you actually need root access for each operation, or you could just slap sudo on everything and live dangerously. Most of us choose the latter because reading permission errors is for people with time on their hands. Fun fact: sudo stands for "superuser do" but in practice it means "I have no idea what I'm doing but I'm doing it with admin privileges."

Ah, the classic "shoot the messenger" scenario, but make it tech! The script is pointing a gun at the API, which is desperately trying to shield the database from the incoming barrage of requests. For those who've ever written a script that hammered an API with requests until the database server caught fire, this hits different. Your innocent-looking for-loop just became a Tommy gun, and suddenly you're the villain in your own infrastructure gangster movie. Next time your DBA asks why the server crashed at 2PM, just show them this and slowly back away while maintaining eye contact.

The pinnacle of security expertise—someone answering "What screams 'I'm insecure'?" with just "http://" instead of the vastly superior "https://". It's like showing up to a security conference without a password manager and 37 browser extensions that block JavaScript. That lone protocol sitting there, naked and vulnerable, practically begging to have its packets sniffed by anyone with basic networking knowledge. The internet equivalent of leaving your front door not just unlocked, but completely removed from its hinges.

Nothing says "I trust absolutely no one" like seeing a plain HTTP link and immediately thinking about all the ways your data could be harvested, sold, or stolen. That little 'S' in HTTPS isn't just a letter—it's the difference between "my password is probably fine" and "welp, time to change every password I've used since 2011." Seasoned developers don't see HTTP anymore. We just see red flags and a ticket that should've been fixed before the product even launched.

The corporate dream of running AI on budget hardware is the tech equivalent of asking someone to build you a Ferrari with Lego parts and a rubber band. First they want AI to handle its own authentication (because security is just a suggestion, right?), then they want to run it on a $5 VPS that struggles to host a static HTML page. And the AI's response? Pure existential dread that perfectly captures what goes through my mind during requirements gathering meetings. Next they'll ask if it can run in a browser, offline, with no dependencies, while making coffee and filing their taxes.