No Salt, Just Pure Security Theater

The internet isn't some magical cloud floating in the ether—it's a rickety tower of services precariously balanced on AWS and Cloudflare. And what's holding it all together? A single underwater cable that looks like it could be severed by a curious fish with an existential crisis. One hungry shark away from global digital apocalypse. The next time your boss asks "why is the website down?" just point to this image and say "a tuna had indigestion near Singapore."

The entire internet is basically a Jenga tower of dependencies, and that tiny block labeled "Rust" is holding up way more than it should. Remember when we found out a critical piece of OpenSSL was maintained by one sleep-deprived guy? Same energy. The modern tech stack is just a bunch of precarious blocks stacked by people who left the company three years ago, and nobody wants to touch it because "it works." Until it doesn't.

The annual tech CEO parking lot summit where they compare notes on who can collect the most user data while still claiming "privacy is our top priority" in their ToS. Meanwhile, their developers are frantically building backdoors while telling themselves "it's just for analytics purposes." The real innovation isn't in their products—it's in the increasingly creative ways they convince us to click "I Agree."

When your coworker admits they've been yeeting API keys and environment variables straight into ChatGPT to debug auth issues, and suddenly everything works. The awkward silence that follows is the sound of every security best practice dying simultaneously. Sure, the bug is fixed, but at what cost? Those credentials are now immortalized in OpenAI's training data, probably sitting next to someone's Social Security number and a recipe for chocolate chip cookies. Time to rotate every single key, update the docs, and pretend this conversation never happened. The best part? It actually worked. ChatGPT probably spotted a typo in the environment variable name or suggested using Bearer token format instead of just raw-dogging the API key in the header. But now you're stuck between being grateful for the fix and having an existential crisis about your company's security posture.

The absolute madlad who hard-codes their API keys directly into the front-end JavaScript where anyone can see it with a quick inspect element. Security? What's that? Just a suggestion, like speed limits and code comments. Nothing says "I trust the internet" like broadcasting your AWS credentials to every single visitor. Next level: storing passwords in plaintext because "hashing is just extra work."

That moment when your password requirements get so ridiculous you start screaming at your monitor. "8+ characters, uppercase, lowercase, number, special character, AND NOW AN EMOJI?!" Meanwhile your brain is just like "🙂🔫123AAAA!" because you've run out of creative password ideas. Next they'll want your blood type and a lock of hair from your firstborn.