I put some of our recent posts on the certification issue into a
blender and this is what came out. Some of you will recognize your
own words. However, it's supposed to be fun, so trust me: good will
is intended.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
----
CERTIFIABLE
a play in one act
by Bogart Salzberg
dedicated to The Perl Mongers of Boston, Massachusetts and environs
starring...
Joe Hex-Pack, programmer
HEROES
The Mighty Japh and his sidekick Noob
VILLAINS
Professor Proof, a.k.a. the Demonstrable in the Closet, and his
sidekick LeRoi
and SURPRISE GUESTS
[In the deepest dark of night, the people of Programopolis bury their
dreaming heads. Captains of industry snore and cough. A thousand
pointy-haired bosses roll over in unison. In a modest home, in a room
full of cables, musky T-shirts and half-eaten burritos, unemployed
programmer Joe Hex-Pack tosses and turns in his bed.]
JOE [mumbling in his sleep]: Therefore, Perl would be a fine choice.
That said, I believe the perpetual motion machine and unified field
theory indicate my ability and I would certainly look forward to --
[agitated] What? Certified? No. Perl doesn't certify. [upset] You
can't? Why not? What rules?
[Joe whines incoherently. The closet door creaks open. Professor
Proof, in hooded velvet gown with golden yellow trim and mortarboard
cap, prances out slowly with LeRoi in tow.]
PROOF [softly]: Joe... Joe, my friend... Relax. I can help you.
[Joe stirs slightly, sighs and curls up.]
PROOF [like Joe's mother, but on valium]: You need a job, Joe. You're
getting a bit rusty, you know.
JOE [sleeping]: Uhhnng? Keep trying. Why? Why nothing? Try else. Must
use warnings.
PROOF: Yes, Joe, heed my warnings. You must prepare yourself.
Knowledge is our breath and blood. The frailty of ignorance haunts
you Joe. [insistently] Study, Joe. Be a man. Prove yourself.
JOE: Uhhrrn? Perl I know. Ten-thousand lines by noon. Swat flies,
eyes closed. Study? Never used study().
PROOF: Diligence, Joe. Discipline. Do you know what separates the
newbies from the masters, Joe? [closing in] The masters know
*everything*, and they have this to prove it.
[From his gown, Professor Proof removes a sheepskin parchment adorned
with a golden seal. Above Joe's delicately rendered name the word
'TIOOWTDI' is printed in massive monospaced letters.]
JOE [still half-asleep but squinting at the certificate]: Uhhllm?
What's that?
PROOF [savoring the moment]: This, Joe, is irrefutable *proof* that
you are a master of Perl.
JOE [perking up a bit]: I am?
PROOF: No. Not yet, Joe. For this certificate [shaking it] is also
proof of graduation from the most rigorous Perl training in the
history of the universe. It means [pausing for emphasis] you're one
of us.
JOE [enraptured]: One of us! One of us... [deeply grateful] Thank you.
PROOF: Yes, Joe. It is my pleasure and honor to inform you of your
exceptional eligibility for our certificate program. If you take
advantage of our special incentives, enrollment in our next class can
be assured for only five-thousand dollars.
JOE [wrestling with himself]: Five-thousand dollars? I don't have
five-thousand dollars.
PROOF [embarrassed for both them]: Ah, Joe. My dear friend. This is
*business*. This is an *investment* in your future. Take out a loan.
Try a credit card. You do own this home, correct?
JOE: Yeah, but...
PROOF [interrupting]: LeRoi!
[LeRoi, who had been mostly concealed behind the Demonstrable's black
gown, steps forward. He is dressed in black pants, black-and-white
striped shirt and a jaunty red beret.]
PROOF: LeRoi, please enumerate for our dear friend the exclusive and
readily calculable advantages of our certificate.
LEROI [through a thick haze of cigarette smoke, with the French
accent of John Cleese]: Ah oui, monsieur, I would be most happy to do
so. [turning to Joe, who is half-awake now] For a modest initial
investment of five-zousand U.S. dollars, you will enjoy ze rights and
privileges of ze very select few who are known to be ze masters of
zis very charming language called Peril. [struggling gamely with his
pronunciation] Zat is, Parole. Excusez moi, Perl.
[LeRoi coughs anxiously.]
LEROI: Ze typical graduates of our program are twenty-eight percent
more likely to be hired within ze first twenty-eight days of zeir job
search, and zey are twenty-eight percent more likely to be hired by
companies in ze top twenty-eight percent of ze industry, and zey are
twenty-eight percent more generously compensated. Additionally, zey
keep zeir jobs an average of twenty-eight percent longer and zey are
twenty-eight percent more likely to be considered to have ze manly
capability and razor-sharp coiffure of a manageur.
[Professor Proof nods in approval.]
LEROI: So, you see, mon cheri, zis is all very logical. Our studies
have conclusively demonstrated zat ze average graduate of our program
will become a millionaire in only twenty-eight years, and can be
expected to live twenty-eight months longer zan ze control group of
freaks and loseurs.
[Professor Proof removes a pen from his gown and dances sweetly to
Joe's side.]
PROOF: All that is required of you today, my dear friend, is the
initiative to take hold of your destiny by signing and dating this
certificate, in triplicate, which LeRoi will then notarize at no
additional cost.
[Joe sits up, rubs his eyes and looks to Professor Proof and LeRoi,
whose vacantly smiling faces are drifting closer. Joe scratches his
head. He appears to be mulling. Professor Proof and LeRoi are still
as statues for a minute. Faint traces of confusion appear on Joe's
face.]
PROOF [moving ever closer]: Honestly, my dear friend, you are clearly
the most certifiable programmer I have ever encountered in all my
days on this Earth.
[Suddenly the bedroom door is kicked open, shattering the jamb. A
tall figure in a ten-gallon hat and python boots is silhouetted by
the harsh hallway light. A billow of dust blows in, carrying various
food wrappers in lazy circles. Professor Proof, Leroi and Joe
shrink, squinting and covering their eyes. The Mighty Japh steps into
the room, leading a massive camel. A boy in a helicopter beanie
follows closely with a diminutive llama. Stitched to his grey
sweat-shirt are the felt letters 'NOOB'.]
JAPH [in the voice of John Wayne, to Joe]: Pardner, you'd be a
certifiable fool to take an oath on that flea-bitten scrap.
[Professor Proof and LeRoi position themselves for a standoff. Noob
is in awe of the scene.]
LEROI: So we meet again, mon petit capitaine des rebelles. You are
most welcome here. [turning evil] For we are becoming quite fond of
demonstrating our more refined manneurs [peers disdainfully at the
wrecked door] and superieur business model.
PROOF [to Joe, then turning to Japh]: This pathetic excuse for a
professional is what we in the business call a certiphobe. [strutting
around] He is consumed by the fear of standards. He is afraid
[pausing for effect] that if he were to be tried by a jury of his
peers he would be proven unknowledgeable [pause] and illegitimate.
JAPH [strutting around]: I'll be judged at the Perly Gates of Heaven
sooner than bow to the slavery of your miserable pre-scription.
[spits] You're what we like to call 'reality-challenged'. [thumping
his chest] I'm about gettin' the job done, and I will *not* be judged
by a man who can't even script hisself out of a ditch. [seeing
Professor Proof raise an eyebrow] A big ditch, anyway.
PROOF [to Joe]: My dear friend, I regret to say that it has become
necessary to fully, and finally, expose the foul core of this man's
deceit. [turning to Japh but still speaking to Joe] It pains me
because I once admired this man for his cunning, [pumping a fist]
his instincts. I had hoped that he would join us, that we could mold
this promising novice into a top-notch practitioner. [approaching
Japh] But he was seduced by the false promise of everlasting youth.
He refused to grow up, to cooperate, [with emphasis] to obey.
LEROI [conversationally, shrugging]: I always said he was an
anarchiste, eh?
[Professor Proof turns away from Japh, catches Joe's eyes and then
turns back to Japh. He raises his arm and points vigorously at Japh's
scowling face.]
PROOF [to Japh, loudly]: I challenge you to demonstrate your
knowledge of Perl.
JAPH [interrupting, smoothly, as if bored]: Was there did that.
PROOF [ignoring him, quickly]: I challenge you to correctly answer
one -- just one -- question about the proper usage of Perl.
[Japh is silent for a moment. Sensing he is backed into a corner, he
steps forward with chest puffed out.]
JAPH [hissing]: Try me.
[Professor Proof paces grandly, head down, hand to chin, like a
prosecutor sharpening his argument].
PROOF [suddenly stopping]: Why is it proper, in the preparation of a
production-quality Perl script, to use "our" when declaring global
variables?
JAPH [laughing]: It ain't proper. And I ain't using it.
[Professor Proof appears stunned by the scope of Japh's error. Then
he throws a sharp look at Joe.]
PROOF [stoking his mock disgust]: You are not using it? [deliberately
and forcefully] I rest my case.
[Professor Proof again thrusts the certificate and pen in Joe's face.
Joe is hypnotized by the certificate and slowly reaches out to take it.]
NOOB [whining and bouncing]: Do something, Japh. We're losing him!
[Japh, momentarily speechless, shakes off his surprise and narrows
his eyes at Professor Proof.]
JAPH [enraged]: We ain't done yet.
[Amused, Professor Proof and LeRoi smile and nod faintly at each other.]
PROOF [handing the pen to Joe]: Oh yes we are.
[In a blur, Japh unholsters his gun, cocks the hammer, and steadies
the sight on Professor Proof's temple. Professor Proof is unnerved by
the escalating tension and eyes Japh carefully.]
NOOB [thrilled]: Transform him, Japh!
JAPH [coolly pulling the trigger]: Schwartzian-style...
[click.]
LEROI [as if smelling a fart]: Ooh.
[A spiral of burning red light erupts from the transformer gun,
splitting into a thousand tiny spirals pulsing in unison like a flock
of murderous starlings. All at once, they surge into Professor Proof.
Tearing flesh from bone, seizing organs with surgical precision,
unraveling thousands of miles of nerves and blood vessels, these
agents of reconstitution whiz and whir at a startling speed. Suddenly
the room is swimming with body parts. Currents of wispy tissue eddy
and orbit from corner to corner as LeRoi, Japh, Noob and Joe take
cover. With a sickening plop, in an instant, Professor Proof is remade.]
LEROI [trying to find Professor Proof's face, or at least the pieces
of it]: Zat has got to hurt...
[Japh, Noob and Joe tilt their heads at the profanely sorted,
trembling lump of flesh.]
JAPH: Ooh.
JOE: Will this have any effect on the training program?
PROOF: Not at all, my friend. I am intact.
[Various body parts flap and jiggle as Professor Proof speaks. With
considerable difficulty, he marshalls a femur, fibula and several
phalanges to the cause of locomotion and rotates awkwardly to point
his mouth and one eye in the general direction of Joe and the others.]
PROOF: Indeed, this condition is rather trivially reversible.
[brushing off Joe's concern with the hand attached to his forehead]
Years ago when I first learned of this abhorrent treachery I resolved
to be fully prepared. I modeled an object-oriented antidote for my
elite team of certified Java programmers.
LEROI [perking up]: Where is it? Do you have it here?
PROOF: They're still working on it. The prototype is immensely
promising, I assure you. [stepping, sliding and rolling toward the
closet door] Well, if our gracious host will excuse us, we really
should be going.
[Joe signs the certificate.]
NOOB: No! Stop!
LEROI [to Joe, reaching for the certificate]: I will take zat if you
are done with it, monsieur.
JAPH [sauntering rapidly up to LeRoi, because cowboys don't run]:
You'll be lucky to dress your wounds with that maggot-chewed rag when
I'm done with you, you quiche-eatin' varmint.
[Japh swings mightily. LeRoi deftly ducks, then shimmies away from
Japh's titanic hook-jab combo. The bout is scoreless for a round as
both men begin to tire. Suddenly, Noob attacks. LeRoi cowers beneath
a swarm of annoying karate chops and kicks to the shin. Noob presses
him backward, with Japh huffing and stomping along.]
PROOF [now wearing his combat badge]: Call in the Minions!
LEROI [defending Noob's ceaseless swatting]: Come out, come out,
wherever you are, my little Minions!
[Three little monkeys bounce out of the closet wearing personally
embroidered baseball caps: Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt. Noob retreats
behind Japh. The monkeys advance. Cackling maniacally, Fear and Doubt
pounce on Japh. Uncertainty corners Noob and grabs his sweat-shirt.
Furious and foaming like a rabid dog, Japh sends Fear and Doubt
flying. But they surge again, unshaken. Suddenly, Noob cries out in
pain. Uncertainty has torn off a part of Noob's 'B' and turned him
into a NO OP. Shrieking and clutching his chest, Noob collapses.
Japh, with renewed strength, hurls Fear and Doubt against the wall
and turns toward Noob while Uncertainty circles to rejoin his trio.
For a moment, the room is calm. Japh pulls a roll of scotch tape from
his belt, tears off a strip and kneels beside Noob.]
JAPH [applying the scotch tape to the injured letter]: Keep your eyes
open, pardner. Just keep your eyes open.
[Noob labors to lift his head, then squeals softly at the scene: The
monkeys are lined up to charge and LeRoi is grinning like a fox. Japh
stands to face them, a trace of despair on his brow.]
JAPH [to LeRoi]: Do it.
[LeRoi casually lifts his arm and snaps his fingers, as if calling
for a waiter. The monkeys charge. Japh side-steps to his saddlebag
and pulls out a wind up doll. Yanking the cord violently, he points
the doll toward certain death and sets it free. The monkeys stop in
their tracks, unsure at first but then amused. The doll is a spindly,
geeky sort of fellow with a plaid shirt, pocket protector,
coke-bottle glasses and oversized head. It shuffles forward awkwardly.]
THE DOLL [as earnest as an infomercial]: Hi. My name is Tim Bunce and
I wrote the DBI module, the standard framework for database access
in Perl.
[The monkeys double over laughing, fall down and roll over slapping
the floor. LeRoi betrays a giggle. Professor Proof clamps his mouth
but convulses with a belly laugh. The doll retrieves a pen from its
pocket protector.]
LEROI [losing control of himself]: Get! Him!
[The doll cocks its arm and sinks the pen into Fear's thigh. The
monkey's laughter fades, and with a yawn, he falls to sleep. The
others begin to recover and set their feet.]
LEROI [still giggling]: Crush! Him!
THE DOLL: Hi. My name is Tim Bunce and I wrote the DBI module.
[Doubt and Uncertainty collapse again. The doll retrieves another pen
and stabs Doubt, knocking him out.]
LEROI [tee-heeing and wiping tears from his eyes]: Destroy Him! Now!
THE DOLL: Hi. My name is Tim Bunce.
[Uncertainty, out of breath now and laughing painfully, attempts to
crawl away but can not escape. The Doll heads for LeRoi.]
PROOF [with monumental effort, to LeRoi]: Cover your ears!
[LeRoi slaps his palms over his ears, straightens himself and charges
the doll.]
THE DOLL: Hi --
[LeRoi kicks the doll square in the gut, smashing it on the far wall,
then stoops to catch his breath. Noob, who was rooting through Japh's
saddlebag, steps silently forward with a slimy bullfrog.]
NOOB [in his best Dirty Harry, which is still pretty bad]: Over and
out, Frenchie.
[LeRoi gapes in horror as Noob prepares to release the frog.]
JAPH [startled, screaming]: No! [yanking Noob back and wrestling the
frog out of his hands] You tryin' to get us all killed?! Huh?! Go
fork yourself! Croak in your own process, goddammit!
[Japh, still upset, shoves Noob into the wall. LeRoi gathers himself,
lights a smoke and darts into the closet. Noob is stunned and
crestfallen. Japh punches a hole in the wall. Noob snivels. LeRoi
stumbles out of the closet with a massive gun.]
LEROI [struggling to steady the gun, speaking to Japh]: You should
have settled for a draw, garçon.
[Japh, as if waking from a trance, spins to face LeRoi.]
LEROI: You see, we have been working on our own killer app.
[strutting a bit] Prepare to be annihilated by [caressing the gun, in
a fiendish delirium] ze bifurcator.
[A thick beam of green light bursts from the barrel and splits in
two, then four, then eight, sixteen, thirty-two beams arcing
gracefully toward a vainly ducking Japh. They pierce his hands and
feet, splitting his limbs in two, then four, then eight even slivers
curling back on themselves. Finally, Japh cracks from crotch to
collar and sinks to the floor. He vaguely resembles an octopus.]
PROOF: Ooh.
JAPH [teetering precariously]: Dammit!
[Jubilant, LeRoi swings the gun toward Noob.]
LEROI [nearly drunk with delight]: How do you say it? Over and out,
Yanqui?
NOOB: Wait!
LEROI: Yes, mon cheri, you should beg first. Zat is proper. What
treasures will you be promising to deliver unto moi if I am merciful,
eh? [mocking] Your iPod, peut etre? Do you have ze new Kenny G?
NOOB: Let me join you. [pointing to Joe] Kill two birds with one
stone. [laughing self-consciously, holding up two fingers] Two birds.
LEROI [evilly eyeing Japh]: Two birds, yes.
PROOF [to Noob]: Come back to the office, we'll get you signed up.
[LeRoi raises an eyebrow, sighs, sets the gun down, shakes out his
arms and reaches out to Joe. Noob turns away slightly, sliding a hand
into his pocket.]
LEROI [taking the certificate from Joe]: Merci, monsieur! Bienvenue,
eh? Welcome aboard.
[With a subtle snap of the wrist, Noob flings a paper clip. It grabs
the edge of the certificate with a faint whoomph, pinning the
mysterious 'TIOOWTDI' heading. LeRoi is perplexed for a moment, then
angry.]
LEROI [marching on Noob]: Imbecile! You think you are fooling me?
What is it with you guys and office products, eh? Zis is your killer
paper clip, now?
NOOB: Actually, it's a binding operator.
LEROI [sarcastic and steamed]: How nice. Well, thank you, I will use
it to attach your obituary, eh? [to Joe, barking] Get ze gun!
[Joe crawls out of bed, steps into his slippers and stumbles over to
the gun, blinking and squinting. With a pre-caffeinated consternation
he examines it from several angles and finally picks it up.]
[LeRoi turns toward Joe, lifting his free hand above his head. Noob
stands straight and steady.]
LEROI [speaking to Joe and nodding in the direction of Noob]: You
see, mon cheri? Zis is the fate of rogues. [turning to Noob, waving
the certificate, raising his voice] Zere is no substitute for zis!
NOOB [coolly and calmly]: I've got one for you:
s/(TI?)O+(WTDI)/$1MTO$2/i;
[A blinding, deafening bolt of lightning seizes LeRoi, violently
wrenching his limbs. Blue sparks erupt from his eyes and nose. A
sudden, spasmodic face-lift dresses the Frenchman in the deranged
stare and glowing grin of a jacques-o-lantern. Violet veins of plasma
slither down his spine and around his limbs. Finally, with a light
pop, LeRoi explodes. The certificate drifts and curls for a moment
over the smoking heap before bursting into a thousand pieces.]
JOE: Ooh.
PROOF [waddling toward the closet]: There's room to move up, now,
Joe. Let's get started.
JOE [setting the gun down]: Can't I just have a cup o' coffee and
think it over?
PROOF: Come on, I'll buy you a mocha latte.
JOE: I'm just not so sure about this.
PROOF: Did you, or did you not, sign a legally binding contract?
JOE [pointing to what's left of the certificate]: It's in a thousand
pieces.
PROOF: We're working on a program to fix that. In fact, I'd love to
have you working on it.
JOE [to Japh]: Can I trust this guy?
JAPH: No.
JOE [to Japh]: Well, can I trust you?
JAPH: No.
[Joe throws up his hands.]
JOE [to Professor Proof]: All right, shoo. [waving him into the
closet] Move along.
PROOF [brandishing a rib]: Mark my words. You will never get a job in
this town.
[Professor Proof disappears into the closet. The first rays of
morning crest a distant hill as a thousand pointy-haired bosses roll
out of bed.]
JOE [to Japh]: OK, I guess I'm with you now.
[Noob glances nervously at Japh.]
JOE [a bit sarcastically]: So what's next? Packet sniffing? Or would
you rather be phishing for credit card numbers?
JAPH: Would you rather be butt sniffing, pardner, or making your own
rules? [looking out the window] There's data in them there hills and
we've got claims to stake. It ain't an easy livin'. Long nights in
the shell. Wrist-breaking labor. But the Sun ain't your master,
either. And when the time comes to exit(), return to your maker
whatever you damn well please. [glancing at Noob] You could learn a
thing or two from this tenderfoot. [to Noob] Show him what ya got in
that bag o' tricks, Kemo Sabe.
[Noob calmly removes his beanie and lifts the hood of his sweatshirt,
shading his eyes. Slowly, gracefully, he kneels on one knee before
Japh. He raises an outstretched hand to the sky, the other to his
heart.]
NOOB: while ($we->are(without($our_herdsman) and wandering('this long
long range'))) {
$we->shall(humbly_beseech('Thee, Great Spirit'));
bless ($japh, Your::Holy::Herdsman);
if ($it->be($your_will)) {
join ('and', sort by_your_design @all_of_his_slivers);
}
}
[After a moment of dead silence, Japh begins to wobble. The room
shakes and he tips over, losing his hat. His bifurcations tremble and
shake like branches in a gale. Japh grits his teeth as they slowly
zip together with the sound of bending steel. He rolls over and
rises painfully, replacing his hat. He limps to his saddlebag and
digs out a wrinkled garment.]
JAPH [to Noob]: Pardner... You proved your mettle. It's time to move
up. [Tossing the garment to Noob] Try that on for size. [to Joe] Grab
your keys and let's go. We're burning daylight.
[Noob, like a kid on Christmas morning, revels in his excitement as
he slowly unfolds the garment, a golden yellow sweat-shirt with 12
felt letters stitched to the front. Japh leads his camel to the door.
Joe follows with keys in hand and sunglasses ready.]
NOOB [awkwardly reading the sweatshirt aloud]: In-ter-me-di-ate.
Intermediate. [perplexed] What does that mean?
JAPH [in pain, limping into the hallway with Joe]: I don't know. Make
something up.
[NOOB dons the sweat-shirt and leads his llama out, closing the door
behind him. For a moment, there is utter silence. Then the monkeys
begin to stir.]
THE END
------------------------------------------------------------------------
----
It does compute, though not so magically...
#!/usr/bin/perl
$our_herdsman = 0;
@all_of_his_slivers = (
'_right_arm_',
'_left_arm_',
'_right_leg_',
'_left_leg_'
);
$this_long_long_range = 128;
$your_will = 1;
sub by_your_design {
return $a cmp $b;
}
sub humbly_beseech {
return shift;
}
sub wandering {
return $_[0]--;
}
sub without {
return !shift;
}
package Hacker;
sub are {
return $_[1];
}
sub shall {
return $_[1];
}
package Fate;
sub be {
return $_[1];
}
package main;
$we = bless [], Hacker;
$it = bless [], Fate;
$japh = \$our_herdsman;
while ($we->are(without($our_herdsman) and
wandering($this_long_long_range))) {
$we->shall(humbly_beseech('Thee, Great Spirit'));
bless ($japh, Your::Holy::Herdsman);
if ($it->be($your_will)) {
print join ('and', sort by_your_design @all_of_his_slivers);
}
}
exit(28);
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