Truth. Justice. Minesweeper.

Monday, November 08, 2004

Every now and then Cruickshank gets a bug up his ass about security and makes me scan the whole place for bugs. Tonight was such a night. God, it's tiresome. Not only because it takes forever to cover everything, but because there are never any bugs. How could there be? Who's gonna plant 'em?

These are the conditions you need for tedious work like this: one guy in charge who knows how tedious it is, but who also knows that he can order it without having to do it, and one guy, not in charge, who has to do what he's told even though it's pointless.

This is how anarchy was invented: some poor slob had to spend hours looking for nonexistent bugs and couldn't take it any more.

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