Ran Some Ware

The ultimate renewable resource isn't solar or wind—it's the endless energy of C++ developers triggering Rust evangelists. Just say "I really like C++" through a solar-powered loudspeaker, and watch an army of Rust zealots charge uphill to lecture you about memory safety. They'll inevitably fall through your trapdoor, spin your turbine on their way down, and get neatly deposited at the bottom—ready to climb again when you repeat your "controversial" statement. Forget nuclear fusion; we've harnessed something far more reliable: programmer tribalism.

Yes, apparently gamers need antivirus software too. Because nothing says "elite gaming rig" like paying €19.99 to protect your system from the viruses you downloaded while trying to get free Minecraft skins. The real game here is Norton convincing gamers they need special protection from "dark web monitoring" when the darkest web most encounter is Discord at 3AM. Bonus points for the physical cards that let you download digital software—perfect for when you want the environmental impact of plastic with the convenience of... having to type everything in anyway.

When your security system flags your own home network as "suspicious." The IP address 192.168.240.1 is a private IP address that can only be accessed from within your local network—literally your own devices. It's like getting a text from your spouse asking who that stranger in your bed is... while they're lying next to you. The real security threat is apparently the security system itself.

Regular running is for amateurs. Running as Administrator gives you a fancy suit but similar results. But sudo ? That transforms you into a samurai warrior ready to slice through permission errors like butter. Nothing fixes a stubborn Linux problem quite like summoning your inner warlord with those four magical letters. Suddenly you're not asking the system nicely anymore—you're telling it what to do while wielding dual katanas of root privileges. The progression is beautiful. From jogger to businessman to absolute destroyer of file permission hierarchies. And they say violence isn't the answer...

Remember when "hacking" meant typing "eh" into Hotmail instead of spending 12 years learning advanced cryptography and neural network vulnerabilities? The 90s were wild—back when security was just a suggestion and the most sophisticated cyber attack was basically saying "please" to the server. Modern security pros looking at this are probably crying into their 64-character randomly generated passwords right now. Meanwhile, Microsoft was probably like "eh, good enough" when designing their authentication system. The golden age when you could become an elite hacker during your lunch break!

The brutal reality of modern gaming licenses in one perfect comic! Steam says "You don't own your games" and gets a cute response, while Ubisoft says the exact same thing and suddenly HR is on speed dial. It's the digital equivalent of agreeing to Terms & Conditions without reading them until something breaks. Game ownership in 2023 is basically paying full price for permission to maybe play something until the authentication servers get unplugged. The finest print in software licensing agreements: "It's not yours, it's just your turn."