The programmer as developer

Legate Damar: "It is my duty to inform you that you will be turned over to a Cardassian tribunal, where you will be tried as war criminals."
Ezri Dax: "War criminals? What are the charges?"
LD: "That is not necessary for you to know. All you need to know is that you will be found guilty and executed"
- "DS9: Strange Bedfellows" (S07E19).

"[In Soviet Russia] we knew where we were going - to our graves, in an orderly fashion"
- My lecturer, who grew up in Communist Moscow. (Was she quoting? Google doesn't think so.)

Pulled the plug on "The Dresden Files" after five minutes. For a show about a wizard, it gave off a dull, mainstream vibe, and I couldn't be arsed persevering. Expected to have an identical reaction to "Tower Prep", a TV series about a school for youngsters gifted with special powers. Now where had I seen that idea before? The advert made it look like the over-rated and frankly dumb "Morning Glories", an Image comic also owing a debt to Marvel's "The New Mutants" et al. However, the plotting of veteran DC scribe Paul Dini drew me in, unfolding the mystery of the titular institution steadily while leaving just the right amount of questions unanswered. Though the dialogue occasionally fell flat, there was plenty of action to balance the teen drama. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite for criticising similarity X (so to speak) and praising homage Y, I dug the echoes of the "The Prisoner" in the way potential escapees were rounded up, as well as the "Harry Potter" familiarity of the central cabal.

~1989: BP, a random named D. and I were passing a partly constructed house when the builder in charge asked if we were interested in an arvo's labouring. He said he'd pay us $20 each. As fit lads ever in search of a quid, we agreed. For the next...I dunno, 3-4 hours, we carried, fetched, swept and menial tasks like that. The foreman nicked off before knock-off, leaving another builder to give us our dough. He was visibly ashamed as he told us, "He only left me $20 for the three of you. But if you want to come to the tavern, I'll buy youse all a beer." Being underage and sans transport - and teetotallers regardless - we declined and proceeded to the nearby takeaway to spend the money on hamburgers. Weeks later, passing a different building site, BP and I encountered the same crew. The head fella called out, asking if we wanted an arvo's labouring, but he was laughing as he did so. I took the stolen handgun from the waistband of my shorts and shot him dead. In an alternate universe. In this universe, one of us yelled, "We'll be right," and we went on down the road.