Report Phishing (But Fall For It Instead)

The classic tech industry delusion: celebrating a "successful" AI loan approval system while the privacy analyst stands there like the only adult at a toddler's birthday party. The team is blissfully high-fiving over their black-box algorithm that somehow decides who gets loans, completely ignoring that financial regulators would sooner approve a bank robbery than an unexplainable AI model. Nothing says "we're doomed" quite like a room full of engineers celebrating code that works but can't explain why it works. Regulators tend to be funny that way—they actually want to know how you decided to reject someone's mortgage application beyond "the machine said no."

Measuring developer productivity by lines of code is like measuring aircraft building progress by weight. The irony here is delicious – the engineers who write the most elegant, efficient code that handles critical infrastructure like security and performance probably wrote the fewest lines. Good security code is minimal and precise. Meanwhile, the person who copy-pasted 10,000 lines from Stack Overflow to make a button slightly rounder just got promoted to Chief Engineer. The tech industry's equivalent of promoting surgeons based on how many incisions they make rather than how many patients survive.

When your security audit consists of pressing "OK" and moving on. Somewhere, a security engineer just felt a disturbance in the force. The perfect mix of horrifying vulnerability and casual acknowledgment - just click "OK" and pretend you didn't see that any user could inject JavaScript and rewrite an entire website for years. Security through obscurity at its finest.

Ah, the sticker that launched a thousand panic attacks. For the youngsters: computers used to store years as two digits to save precious memory. So 1999 was just "99" in code. When 2000 hit, systems would roll over to "00" and potentially think it was 1900, causing chaos with calculations, dates, and potentially launching nuclear missiles (or so the media claimed). The solution? Turn everything off and hope for the best. Spoiler alert: we survived, but Best Buy made a killing selling these stickers to terrified boomers who thought their toasters might become sentient.

Ah, the classic security blunder that makes security professionals spit coffee. The code shows "brute-force attack protection" that only triggers the error message when the password is correct AND it's the first login attempt. So basically, it tells attackers "congrats, you got the right password, just try again!" Meanwhile, the kid who wrote this monstrosity sits there with a smug grin while the entire IT department has a collective aneurysm. This is why we can't have nice things in cybersecurity.

That's not a white dot, that's Cursor AI sharing your plaintext password file with every hacker on the planet. Nothing says "security professional" like storing credentials in a CSV file named "passwords.csv" and then asking about UI elements while exposing it. Somewhere, a security engineer just felt a disturbance in the force and doesn't know why.