Objects


by Cameron Hendy
Object

The music is throbbing, my feet are stick-stick-sticking to the floor, my face is a bit numb. I turn to the guy next to me. "What do you do mate?"

He laughs. He tells me he's a graduate student of sorts. Hard to hear above the pounding. His thesis is Exploring The Analogous Relationships Between Early Human Tribal Formation And Wider Society With Object Oriented Paradigms in Software Development. The urinal line is still massive, I implore him to tell me all about it. He grins.

"I studied these early African tribes, these cave dwelling humans, and it was obvious to me how the social unit was organised – you have hunters, gatherers, these discrete functional roles and for the most part families living together. To phrase that differently, the units of the tribe were generally self-similar, at least genetically. The tasks, the roles, these were well defined. The males would hunt the meat, the females would rear the children and dig for yams. Sometime later they figured out how to weave baskets and make rudimentary clothing too. Conceptually, early human life was simple. The idea is too, you know, that evolutionary weight matters, that the amount of time spent at a certain level of development counts. We spent a long time on the savannah, this is encoded in our genes, it is inescapable."

I'm nodding furiously. I know what a yam is. We are connecting. His hands wave around in excitement.

"The conclusion is that you increase the probability of a program failure the further your design strays from what would be considered perfectly object oriented, you know – tending towards unavoidable run-time errors. It’s like a simulation where you have a binary outcome, this being successful compilation and execution or failure, and the further you stray from good design the more you risk the exception, the failure. You can imagine the total entropy increasing with each movement along the spectrum in the wrong direction. You understand?"

I tell him I do. It is my turn to piss. We shake hands, and as I enter the toilets I can't help myself and vomit all over my shoes.