For those not-in-the-know, that’s a MongoDB query to count the number of users that Hark currently has. Right now, that returns a rather dismal figure: 2. And there’s really only one reason for that. Web apps demand details. And details are damn hard to ship.
When I stepped into the bathroom this morning to take a shower, I was presented with a lovely centipede writhing in the tub, trying to make its escape. It was an ironic reminder, although the humor was lost on me. I’ve squashed a handful of bugs in preparation to release version 0.2 of Hark, widely ranging in severity. Most often, it’s a matter of simple cosmetic changes, which is a good sign. But today, I fixed a bug that led to an “Internal Server Error” for any new user upon their first log-in.
I still shudder to think if I had shipped an official version of Hark with that bug still intact. I get that same feeling I did when the centipede first crawled into view. The thing is, I thought Hark’s experience, with its current feature set, was relatively bug-free. I’ve been using Hark as my sole means of listening to podcasts for roughly two weeks now, and it hasn’t yet melted down on me.
To me, the centipede was an omen to the bug I would find just a few hours later in the day. But I didn’t squash the real-life version—I turned on the water and stood on my tippy-toes, trying to direct the showerhead so that it might lose its grip on the tub, slide down the drain. That’s the real truth—most bugs aren’t efficiency and quickly squashed. You direct a firehose of effort upon them and erode the edges until, with any luck, they make an undignified exit.
Only after that erosion is complete can you deal with the details, which is where I am right now. Hark, as a core web application, is ready for you to use right now. Go get it, if you’re so inclined. You can sign up, log in, and listen to your heart’s content. But it’s not ready for the masses. Consider it a beta of sorts.