Java Wars: Return of the J-Tards

(continued from Java Wars: The J-Tard Empire Strikes Back)

A short time ago in a corporation pretty near you...

I'm sitting in front of the computer. I'm watching all the J-Tard emails go back and forth about the JVM problem. I chime in every once in a while with a red herring that leads them down the wrong path. It's so funny watching these monkeys panic. I haven't had this much fun in years! I'm gonna milk this for all it's worth and best of all; I have my trophy locked away in the storage cabinet, the tardest J-Tard of them all - Fake JS.

Suddenly J-Tard Jorge barges into the room with a bunch of his minion J-tards.

It's the Return of the J-Tards!

They questions me on the whereabouts of the tardest J-Tard of them all. Of course I deny knowing where he is. Those J-tards immediately congregate like the stupid monkeys they are trying to plan their next move. I suddenly see the female J-Tard, Fake JZ, use her phone to call someone.

Fake JS's phone rings from within the storage cabinet. Damn! I'm exposed. I resort to what I know best. Violence. I jump off my chair, get into attack mode, and exclaim, "You will never free him! I threw away the keys!"

But then I see the most hilarious thing happen:

The dark, tall, and hairy J-tard, Fake DM, screams and points toward the storage cabinet. He begins to move towards the cabinet until the female J-Tard attacks him. They start to fight with each other. This is just plain comical. I cannot make up something like this. I'm laughing so hard my stomach hurts. These J-Tard idiots can't even unite together in a situation like this. They will never fix the JVM problem and everything will be written in stored-procedures and my beloved Oracle Database will shine forever! I love Larry Ellison.

I'm still laughing uncontrollably.

But then J-tard Jorge puts a stop to the bickering. I resume attack mode. He commands Fake JZ to free Fake JS. He commands Fake DM to attack me. He commands the J-tard with a bloody bandage on his nose (I don't know his name, but Fake JS always calls him Hans) to fix the JVM problem I created.

Damn! J-Tard Jorge has got them work together. I need backup! I try to call Max Spazter, but Fake DM comes screaming at me like a girl. He scratches my face and pulls my hair. I punch him in the gut and I hear a girly high-pitch scream come out of him before he collapses to the floor.

I see Hans run towards my computer. He trips over himself and falls on his face. Stupid J-Tard, can't even run straight. He gets up, lets out a battle cry, and starts typing on my computer. King Jorge also lets out a battle cry. Damn, the J-tards are uniting. I try to tackle Hans, but I hear a girly high-pitched scream coming from behind me. It's Fake DM again. He gets up and pulls my hair from behind. What the hell is wrong this J-Tard? He fights like a girl - scratching face and pulling hair. Bastard! He pulls very hard this time. I loose my footing. As I'm falling down, I catch a glimpse of Fake JZ jumping up and down trying to pry open the cabinet door like a stupid monkey. They're all monkeys. I can't help but burst out in laughter when I saw this.

Suddenly Hans exclaims, "Fix installed! The JVM Problem is no more! Data is flowing through our servers again!"

I have failed! Max Spazter will be disappointed. I get down on my knees and let out a scream to beg for Larry Ellison's forgiveness. I think it goes unheard because the J-tard's cheers drown me out. I cover my face because I can't bear it anymore. I'm ashamed. Truly ashamed.

The room falls silent.

I look up and I realize that they have still been unable to free Fake JS. I burst into laughter again and exclaim, "You J-tards will never free your tardest J-Tard of them all!"

Again J-Tard Jorge unites them and gives them hope. He instructs Fake JZ to my keyboard. The female J-Tard uses it to hit the lock until both the lock and my keyboard breaks to pieces. I hate all J-Tards - that keyboard was specially configured for my typing style.

It gets worse, the next thing I see was horrific. I shutter to even describe this in my secret diaries, but I must proceed so that I will remember never repeat this mistake again.

The tardest J-Tard of them all, Fake JS, collapse to the floor and the female J-tard, Fake JZ, immediately cradles him in her arms. She begins to cry. I think I hear the hairy J-Tard, Fake DM, get emotional too. I feel sick. I'm getting nauseous. All this J-tard love is obscenely gross. Just imagine if these J-tards got together and made mini J-Tards?! Oh my Larry! They will be the tardest of the tardest J-Tards of them all.

Suddenly Fake JS asks Fake JZ, "Who are you?"

Fake JZ replies, "Someone who cares for you."

That's it. That's the breaking point. They're gonna make mini J-Tards. I'm nauseous to the point where I can't hold it in anymore. I need to puke. I aim for the nearest J-Tard, it happens to be Hans. I puke on him.

I smile because I got in a cheap shot. Hans cusses at me. I continue to defiantly smile at him.

Suddenly Fake DM screams. This startles me because he screams right into my ears! I thought those sound can only come from 10 year old girls. Fake DM starts to cry again. This guy is pissing me off. He's almost as much of a freak as Fake JS.

Apparently Fake JZ just slapped Fake JS in the face causing Fake DM to scream like that.

Regardless, the J-tards are obviously fighting with each other again - once again there is chaos in their ranks. I see J-Tard Jorge realize the same thing as he clasps both hands to his face and say, "God, this is what I have to work with."

I defiantly smile again at the J-Tards because I now realize that their victory today was pure luck and more importantly temporary.

They have struck me down today, but shall return stronger than ever before. The J-Tards will pay!

Peace out...

(to be continued: Java Wars: The J-Tard Menace)

[Editor's note: Due to the fantastical nature of these chronicles, I have decided to make sure readers have access to a different point of view so that they may decide for themselves what is real about this fake blog: Click here to see Fake JS's chronicle of this event and Click here to see Fake DM's chronicle of this event]

Java Wars: The J-Tard Empire Strikes Back

(continued from Java Wars: A New J-Tard)

A short time ago in a corporation pretty near you....

King Jorge has sent all J-Tards to hunt down all stored-procedures and replace them with Hibernate code and business logic running on the application server. I see all the meetings and emails about how we will eventually eliminate stored-procedures from our technology stack. I've even heard rumors that King Jorge will move away from Oracle and use MySQL. MySQL! DEAR LARRY! MySQL! For the love of Larry Ellison, what is J-Tard Jorge thinking?

I pause for a moment to think about all the hard work I put into making my Oracle database so pristine and beautiful - all those relational modeling just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. And J-Tard Jorge just comes along and destroys all of it.

This is my darkest hour. But this is where I shine! J-tard Jorge you are going down!

I whip open the stored-procedure that I mentioned in my last diary entry to double check my work. I don't know why I bother. It's perfect as always. I guess I just like looking at my own code. I make sure that the little surprise I put in the code is very devastating on any JVM (Java Virtual Machine). I setup a meeting to show the J-Tards how to integrate my stored-procedure into their codebase. That made me feel really dirty having to work with such tards, but I keep the greater goal in mind and take one for the team.

My work is done. Now I wait for those J-tards to start running around in fire-drill mode trying to figure out what is going on. I pop open a Sierra Nevada and wait for the chaos to begin. I love this part...

Sure enough, within half an hour those J-tards are up in arms screaming and jumping like the stupid monkeys they are, "Oh no, my JVM crashed!", "Oh my god, I getting an OutOfMemoryError!"

Oh my Larry, they are such tards! It's so funny to watch them go through this.

Unfortunately the fun was short lived. King Jorge sets up a meeting with me to talk about the problem. I accept the meeting. It's mano a mano. I get to the meeting room earlier to make sure I see him coming.

King Jorge finally walks in the room. We meet him for the first time. He's tall, dark, and J-tardly. He's dressed in black leather from head to toe. He breathes rhythmically and deeply. He looks at me and says, "Jeff, I am your father, join me..."

NO! NO! That's not true! I will never join you!

J-Tard Jorge disconnects his bluetooth ear-piece and says to me, "Oh sorry, I was talking to my son Jeff. I was asking him to join me for dinner later tonight and sorry for the heavy breathing. I was running up the stairs. I need to catch my breathe. By the way, I'm King Jorge. Nice to meet you." We shake hands and I respond, "I'm Fake Jeff, nice to meet you, J-Tard." He looks puzzled, "What's J-Tard?" I respond, "What's What? I don't what you're talking about. Anyways, how can I help you?"

He details the problem to me, "Look Fake Jeff, there's a problem with the code. We don't know where it is, but we're sure the problem is somewhere between the Java code and the stored-procedure. I've assigned Fake JS to work with you on this." The tardest J-tard of them all. They'll never figure out the problem. I response, "Sure no problem." He smiles and says, "Cool. Thanks."

We walk out of the meeting room together and J-Tard Jorge says to me, "By the way I'm still new here and I'm still figuring out some things, like what's the deal with Fake JS and his compacts? He's always looking at himself. Does he really think he's all that?" I response, "The guy's a freak." J-Tard Jorge laughs, "Yeah, 'cause he really not all that." We both share a hearty laugh and I head over to J-Tard land to find Fake JS.

So Fake JS and myself have been "working together" for four plus hours with no result. Of course, I have him looking at red herrings, but I don't really need to do that because he seems to spend all his time staring at high reflective surfaces and smiling. Freak of a J-tard. On top of that he's constantly whispering gibberish into his phone. This guy is the tardest J-tard of them all.

But all of a sudden he hangs up his phone and says to me, "Fake Jeff, look at lines 89 through 98 in the stored-procedure. It's an infinite loop. Fix that and we are good." My jaw drops to the ground in shock.

The J-Tard Empire Strikes Back!

The tardest J-tard of them all has exposed me! I need to cover my tracks! I resort to what I know best. Violence. I take a swing at him. He ducks. I get a hold of him and he starts screaming like a girl, something like, "Not the face! Not the face!" I shove him into a storage cabinet. I lock the storage cabinet and throw away the keys.

I scream, "I OWN YOU J-TARD! I OWN YOU!"

Peace out....

(to be continued: Java Wars: Return of the J-Tards)

[Editor's note: Due to the fantastical nature of these chronicles, I have decided to make sure readers have access to a different point of view so that they may decide for themselves what is real about this fake blog: Click here to see Fake JS's chronicle of this event]

Java Wars: A New J-Tard

A short time ago in a corporation pretty near you....

Max Spazter, my boss, barges into my office with a deeply concerned look on his face, "Fake Jeff we need to talk." He closes the door and begins, "I just got out of a meeting with King Jorge and it doesn't look good for us." I immediately interrupt, "Who is King Jorge?" Spazter looks me directly in the eyes and says, "He's the new leader of the J-Tards"

Dear god, the J-Tards have a leader now! Spazter continues to explain that King Jorge is uniting all the J-Tards together by telling them to use Hibernate to connect to my beloved database. The more I hear the more upset I get. The situation is dire, I now understand what Spazter is spazing about. He even told me that King Jorge wants to run Java code inside my beloved Oracle database! PURE BLASPHEMY! I've heard enough so I demand that Spazter make me his general and declare war on this imminent threat; A new J-Tard named King Jorge.

Spazter looks at his watch. He realizes he's late for a meeting and tells me he has sent me an email that tells me everything I need to know, "This is important Fake Jeff, I trust you to take care of everything" and walks out of my office.

I immediately open the email and it reads:

Fake Jeff, days ago, you served me well by doing everything in stored-procedures. Now I beg you to help me in my struggles against the J-Tard Empire. I regret that I was unable to give you more lead time, but I have fallen under golden boy Jorge's attack and I'm afraid my mission to help Larry Ellison to take over the world has failed. I've attached information vital to our survival in this email. You should know how to download it. You must see that this information is secretly forwarded to all other Database Administrators. This is our most desperate hour. Help me, Fake Jeff, you're my only hope.

I gladly except the mission. If I do not make it out this war in one piece I hope Larry will remember that I've sacrificed myself in the name of Oracle.

I know exactly what I need to do. I execute the first part of my plan by creating a godly Oracle stored-procedure for those J-tards. I've put a little surprise in the code for them. Muhahaha! Muhahaha! Muhahaha!

Peace out...

(to be continued: Java Wars: The J-Tard Empire Strikes Back)

[Editor's note: Due to the fantastical nature of these chronicles, I have decided to make sure readers have access to a different point of view so that they may decide for themselves what is real about this fake blog: Click here to see Fake JS's chronicle of this event]

Bad food! Bad code! Bad J-tard!

So I was happily having lunch by myself in the company cafeteria until J-tard decides to ruin the party and asked, "Mind if I join you for lunch?". So I'm thinking you're a J-tard, why do you think I wouldn't mind? Anyways, I 'm feeling less hostile than usually because we'll be exclusively using stored procedures for our next project (The thought of no J-tards touching my beloved database just makes me warm and fuzzy inside) so I'm allowing him to have lunch with me.

I finish off my lunch and I'm still hungry so I look over at J-tard and say, "Hey J-tard, I'm still hungry. Feed me." So I immediately grab some rice and some chicken off his plate. He pretends to be nice, "Uh, yeah sure, try some of it." J-tards are always kissing up to me because they know that everything Java is wrong and everything Oracle is godly, just like Larry. He's very godly, especially his beard. It looks so soft and smooth and yet so masculine and soooo Oracle databasy.

Anyways, I shovel some of J-tard's food into my mouth. Holy Jesus! It tastes like toe jam! I spit it out and stare at him. I don't blink. I'm pissed. I continue to stare at him. I still don't blink. I finally calm myself down by thinking about Larry's beard and say to him, "I cannot believe your food is as crappy as your Java code. You should really consider getting off your Gavin-Man-Crush and rewrite your Hibernate code into stored procedures! You've used up my last ounce of mercy toward any J-tard. IF YOU EVEN MENTION ANYTHING JAVA WITHIN AN EARSHOT OF ME, I WILL TAKE YOU OUT BIG-TIME". I throw the leftovers at him and I walk out of the cafeteria. Friggin J-tards.

Peace out...

Lunch with Agent Zero

So I get a call from Agent Zero, he wants to get together for lunch. He's yapping about some conspiracy theory that he believes will interest me. I ignore him. I don't particularly want to have lunch with him. This jagoff is a chatterbox Fox Mulder with an annoying streak, but I have a frigtard Java developer in my ear about some completely asinine topic. He's on a soapbox about Spring, dependency injection, and some dude named Martin Fowler. Honestly, I don't know why this frigtard is talking about Spring in October and I'm beginning to having a "fowl" thought about "injecting" my pen into his eye.

I've had enough so I choose the lesser of two evils. I confirm lunch with Agent Zero. I serve frigtard Java developer a tall glass of shut-up juice and tell him, "If you or Martin touch my beloved Oracle database while I'm out to lunch I'm going to inject Martin's head in your ass".

So Agent Zero and I are having lunch at Chili's. This jagoff is happily shoving his Bacon Burger down his throat while he drones on and on about that Meteorite incident in Peru and Bush's plan for a permanent presidency. I can't even look at my Country-Fried Steak because I'm getting nauseous from listening to him so my mind wanders to keep from hurling. Larry Ellison's beard dances around in my head and a grin begins to show across my face, but two-dollar Fox Mulder brings me back to reality by finally getting to the point. He goes, "But the real conspiracy is this - What's your deal with the term, "frigtard Java Developer", Fake Jeff? All things Java start with a "J". It's JBoss. It's JDom. It's JBuilder. It's always "J" something bro. Where's the creativity, Fake Jeff? The truth is out there".

Ok, I'm confused...

He goes quiet and slips me a note underneath the table. It reads, "J-Tard = frigtard Java Developer".

Am I like, OMG!

J-TARD.

I have a new found respect for Agent Zero. I'm no longer nauseous. I quickly pound down my Country-Fried Steak because I can't wait to get back to the office to slap some sense into the J-tard who probably messed up my beloved Oracle database.

The truth is out there.

Peace out...

Man-Crush

Larry Ellison is a great man. My most favorite product of his beloved company is the Oracle Database

Java Developers Suck!

So this frigtard Java Developer walks into my cube today and tells me he wants to add a column to one of my database tables. I was thinking, "What the hell do you think you're doing even thinking of touching my beloved Oracle database tables?!" So I put up with it for a while 'cause my boss told me to be less hostile towards these frigtards. So for the next minute or so I pretend to listen to the worthless sounds coming out of his mouth. When I finally feel sorry for him, I tell him to have a tall glass of shut-up juice and listen to my Godly database-centric solution, "ADDING A FRIGGIN COLUMN TO SOLVE THIS PROBLEM IS SOMETHING FRIGTARDS LIKE YOU ALWAYS SUGGEST! I'M PUTTING MY FOOT DOWN! HELL NO! WE ARE CREATING TWENTY TABLES TO REPLACE YOUR COLUMN AND YOUR GOING TO REWRITE YOUR WORTHLESS CODE TO USE THOSE TABLES!"

Peace out...

Hibernate Sucks!

I'm sitting in a design meeting with a bunch of frigtard Java developers and they're beginning to piss me off. They're talking about using Hibernate to connect to my beloved Oracle database. All these friggin O/R mapping frameworks generating these inefficient SQL queries just gives me the twitches. These guys don't know what the hell they are talking about! One day it's this, the next day it's that. I couldn't wait for those frigtards to stop yapping so I cold-cocked the one sitting next to me to get their attention and said, "GAVIN SUCKS! HIBERNATE SUCKS! WE ARE DOING EVERYTHING WITH STORED PROCEDURES!"

Peace out...