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programmer-and-the-devil.shtml
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Erlkönig: programmer-and-the-devil.shtml> > Heaven's donuts are jelly donuts. The blend of texture, from the > cool, sweet ooze of the jelly, mined with tiny raspberry seeds, to the > firm, spongy cake, so lightly encrusted in a thin glaze of sugar, that > cracks and flakes as you gingerly tear off small pieces of delight, is > certainly the greatest experience a humble man can afford. > > I was eating a jelly donut when He first appeared in my office, > smelling slightly of gunpowder. He was tall and gaunt, with deep-set > eyes and crooked teeth, long, delicate fingers, and sloped > shoulders. He wore a black Ozzy Osborne concert t-shirt, frayed black > jeans, and dusty black high-tops, unlaced. He smiled at me in an ugly > way. I put down my donut and glanced at my watch. 7:00 PM. > > "You're Mike Kolesnik." > > I nodded. > > "You're a programmer for CyberHackers." > > I nodded again. Not only was I a programmer for CyberHackers--I was > the best damn programmer this group had ever or would ever see. I > suppose I should introduce myself. I am Michael Kolesnik, master > programmer. I'm not just blowing smoke here either. I'm the best > damn programmer to come out of MIT since code was constructed one bit > at a time. I can do it all: C, LISP, assembly--even the languages no > self-respecting programmer would deign to look at. I can do it all in > no time flat, with the most elegant of style. Code sprinkled with > glistening semicolons and flowing rivers of indentation. Lesser > programmers avert their eyes when I enter the room. > > "They say you're the best, and I'm here to challenge you." I sized > this guy up again. He had the right shape. The pot-belly, the greasy > hair, parted with precision. The fingers. And the funny smell. I > told him I didn't have time. > > "I'll make it worth your while," he said. "I have something you might > be interested in. Follow me." > > I grabbed my box of donuts, and followed him down the hall and into > the elevator. He pressed a button and the elevator descended into the > basement. I'd never been in the basement before. For that matter, I > didn't even recall that the building had a basement. Nonetheless, the > elevator chimed, the doors opened, and we stepped out into a wide room > that was entirely featureless. That is, except for the fog on the > floor and two workstations that were set up, side by side. One of the > workstations was mine. The other was a workstation like none other > that I had seen before. It was magnificent. > > It was matte black. More than an object, it looked like a hole in > space. The monitor it sported was the biggest I had ever seen, and > the keyboard was a flow of liquid lines, containing a field of keys of > different sizes and shapes, packed in like cobblestones. The mouse > floated above the table, and had no wire. Next to the computer was a > box with a small chute coming out of one side, and a large red button > on the top. The monitor was flanked by two gigantic speakers, and I > could see a sub-woofer poking up out of the fog. It hummed. It > steamed. It was the most beautiful computer I had ever seen. > > "You approve," said the stranger. > > I swallowed and said, "It is beyond description." > > "It's a custom job. And it's yours. If," he said, "If you can beat > me in a coding contest." > > I looked at him incredulously. "What's in it for you?" > > "I will have defeated the greatest coder in the world, and thus, I can > claim that title. AND, I get to keep your immortal soul." He smiled > the ugly smile again. > > Here was a dilemma. I was dealing with the Devil. There was no doubt > about that. And he was no doubt very good. I am somewhat attached to > my soul, but oh, the prizes. The glory. I can easily claim to be the > best coder in the company, in the Bay Area, probably on the whole > planet, but if I pulled this off, I will have shown myself to be the > best coder in this entire theology! Vanity got the better part of me. > > "What's the contest?" I asked. > > I won't bore you with the details, but it was seriously ugly. Ugly in > a way that makes the most arrogant of coders cringe and causes > managers to pad development schedules into the next century. It had > to run in any language, including the nasty chicken-scratch ones. It > had to be backward compatible, all the way to the ENIAC. And it had to > run on Windows... I cringed. But vanity won. I signed the forms, > agreed on a deadline of midnight, and we sat down at our machines and > started to code. > > My watch said 8:00 PM, and I started warming up. Class definitions > flew off my fingertips like throwing stars. Structures and > declarations grew like perfect crystals, and I didn't even break a > sweat. True to the task, I soon lost myself in an endless cycle of > postulate, create, instantiate and verify. Bits grew to bytes, to K, > to Megs, and finally to Gigs. By 11:00 PM it had come to that crucial > point. With an hour to go, I had to put all the pieces together. It > wasn't going to be easy. It was going to take all the concentration I > had. > > Then I hit the first bug. > > At first, I wasn't sure where it was coming from, but then I spotted > it. It wasn't mine. It was bug in Windows. Even worse, it was a bug > in Windows that stemmed from a timing problem with the system clock > itself. I couldn't see a workaround. I was stymied. I genuflected and > called Microsoft support. "Hello, and welcome to the Microsoft help > line. Please enter your 64 digit user identification number, followed > by your 32 digit password." > > While I frantically typed number after number, trying to navigate > through layer upon layer of phone menu, I heard Him pick up his phone > and call a number. > > "Hello, is Bill in? ... I don't care, wake him up ... Tell him it's > Mr. Black ... Hey Bill, what's shakin'? Listen, I needed to know a > workaround to one of your bugs ... Yes, I know what time it is... > Yes, I know ... Bill ... Bill! You remember our little deal?... > That's right. Now be a dear and give me that workaround ... Mm-hm > . Right ... Thank you, Bill. I'll be seeing you." > > I was shocked. It was obviously pointless continuing my desperate > journey through Microsoft's Help line. I needed immediate genius! I > scarfed down a grape jelly. Sugar shock engulfed me, and my vision > tunneled. I shuddered once, something clicked, and I determined the > answer I needed--I could use the clock on the sound chip to get my > timings. > > I dove back into the code, and was quickly integrating modules when I > hit bug number two. It was even uglier than the first. In fact, it was > the ugliest bug I had ever seen. It was a problem with C. With the > language itself. There's no way fix a broken hammer using the same > hammer. > > I wracked my brains. I clenched and grunted and sweated and thought > and Thought and THOUGHT, but to no avail. Over my shoulder, I could > hear Him chime in, "Bugger, isn't it? I remember putting that one in > back when I was working on the Unix kernel. Did you really think there > was a Kernighan and Ritchie? Rearrange the letters in their names and > you'll discover an interesting anagram." > > I ignored him and continued thinking. My mind went deeper and deeper > into the problem at hand--my senses dulled, my breathing grew shallow. > My eyes rolled back and sweat beaded on my forehead. Clumsily, > blindly, my hand pawed it's way to the box on my desk, containing my > last jelly donut. It raised slowly to my lips, and I bit. > > Pounding waves of sugar induced euphoria washed through my mind. I > felt my brain hum and crackle. My hands trembled, my body shuddered, > and I began to type. I was a man possessed. Complex topographical math > equations formed on my screen. Klien bottles and hypercubes locked > neatly into place like pieces of a puzzle. Beyond my control, a > complex mathematical world formed in my computer, with additional > dimensions unimaginable. > > I felt a small pop, and I came to. I looked at my screen. I had worked > around the bug. My watch read 11:45. Frantically I continued putting > all the modules into place. Glancing for a moment at my rival, I could > see I had him worried. He was typing furiously. Smoke poured from his > ears, and flames licked around his collar. > > Then I hit the third bug. > > It was not so much a bug, it was a limit. I only had 4 Gigabytes of > memory, and I had used it all. There wasn't a bit left. I had > compressed data to a point so fine that it was in danger of collapsing > into a black hole. I was storing memory in every conceivable way, > including keeping a chain of sound waves running between the speaker > and the microphone. There was no memory left to be had. > > Frantic, I reached into my box of donuts, and my heart sank into my > stomach when I realized that I had eaten the last one. I glanced at > my watch, but it was too late. I was sunk. I had done the best that I > could, and I had nothing more to give. > > The Devil laughed, and grinning cruelly, he reached over to the box > with the chute and the button. Remember the box? Slowly, firmly, his > hand pressed the red button, and a jelly donut slid down the chute and > onto the table. > > My jaw dropped. "What...is...that?" I asked. > > He languorously chewed as he replied, "The Box of Eternal Donuts." > > "The Box of Eternal Donuts!?" > > "Yes," he said. > > "It never runs out?" > > "Never," he said. > > "It's mine if I win?!?!" > > "If you can win, it is entirely yours," he replied, grinning cockily. > > My mind reeled. The Box of Eternal Donuts. The Box of Eternal > Donuts! My eyes darted everywhere, my jaw hung slack, and my throat > emitted strange animal-like noises. Anything. I would do anything to > win! I just needed the smallest amount of memory. But where could I > get it from? I glanced at my watch again, and a plan came into my > mind. A beautiful, devious plan. > > I went quickly upstairs and retrieved the emergency toolkit that we > keep in the medicine cabinet. I ripped the case off my computer, and > quickly scanned for the right connections. I pulled two wires, and > unscrewed the back of my watch. The Devil's eyes widened and he > desperately started coding again, but it was too late. I got the last > of the memory I needed out of my watch, and pressed the ENTER key > seconds before he did. > > The watch burst into flames. Sparks flew from the disk drives and the > monitor glowed and throbbed, finally melting into a puddle of > glass. The computer exploded in a shower of sparks, and then there was > absolute silence. > > There was a pause, and both of us turned as the printer started, > slowly emitting a single sheet that wafted gently into the out bin. I > nonchalantly strolled over, and held up to the Devil's scowling face, > a sheet imprinted with two words. "Hello World". > > Nothing more needs to be told, other than, as I write this, I am > sitting in front of my new computer, munching on what is undoubtedly > the best jelly donut I have ever eaten... > |