Twisted Variables and Flying Roaches: The Mighty Dogfight

The program I am currently working on, "Sith Realms 21", is nearing completion; at this point I am doing a lot of testing, not the proper testing one reserves for a release but a real-time testing (unit testing) that is forced. "Forced" in this case is not a burden but is not welcomed with heart-warming grace, either. I, the ever-impatient programmer\artist wants it done, complete-- a folder in my virtual portfolio to show a potential, future employee. I must always remind myself of the real purpose of this work: through mistakes and errors you will learn (hopefully), and through having to fix a misconceived design you may be developing a vaccine against future, disastrous designs. Just try to learn calmly as you stare at the compiler, and do not give up the fight of error eradication.

It is not unlike a WWI dogfight sometimes: You know that the enemy stalks the horizon. You hear the hum of his engines and the whirl of propellers. Your instinct tells you that if you come in contact with your opponent it will be a nasty fight, but you fly on. You now see their canvas wings as you draw closer-- they are not quite the enemy you feared. But, they let loose with a barrage of lead volleys that almost gaze your leather helmet and punches holes in your planes skin. You tilt and roll racing towards the Earth not in pursuit of a fiery death but only as a defensive move to regain your arial footing and produce a new, aggressive stance. Your co-pilot screams for you to blaze a trail to the heart of your enemy even if it means both your deaths. Victory is possibly only a moment away. Your tear loose with an attack of machine gun fire that strikes the enemy pilot in his hands and his head. That plane now falls free and bleeding smoke, a torn kite now fuming with sure defeat; the dead, enemy craft thrashes the ground not unlike a shattered spear and explodes in a glorious gulp. Your co-pilot yells "Aces High!" and you prepare to return to base. You have just won this round and you can rest perhaps for a moment. Your team will seek and search to recover the destroyed enemy plane to study the wreckage for secrets and technological advancement-- all you do is fall into your bunk and retire with victory for a few hours in dreams of blasts and breath-stealing bail-outs. You will awake in a sweat for another take.

Such is the days of a programmer at times. Although I am making use of lofty, dated imagery and metaphor to describe my struggles with code at times, it is how I feel it at the moment and I pray for victory and yearn to return to base, perhaps to gun another day for all the twisted variables, redundant code bunkers, and the notorious bugs who fly in bomber-formation in search of birthing a firsescape in our eyes. Aces High!