How to Properly Fail a Hackathon
Ah, the sweet symphony of failure. Grab your mangoes, passion fruits, and a double dose of Thai Ultra Arabica, because this story isn’t your typical hackathon tale of victory and confetti. No, dear reader, this is a deep dive into how to pour your soul into a project only to watch it crumble like a poorly balanced Jenga tower—thanks, in no small part, to the disasterpiece that is MOVE blockchain. Let’s get started.
Prelude to the Chaos
After four years of heavy coding and countless library refactors, I decided it was time to revisit my creations. Out of seven versions, only two made it into the land of stability. The other five? They were either rejected by the “community” (more on this ragtag bunch later) or, frankly, by me. And let me tell you, self-rejection hits different.
Now, “What community?” you might ask. A fair question. But before we unpack that existential riddle, let me introduce myself and, more importantly, my lifestyle—a lifestyle so nomadic it makes vagabonds look sedentary.
Meet Your Favorite Nomad
Some would call me homeless. I prefer “location-agnostic.” My last “stable” address—a two-bedroom over a gin bar in Perth—lasted a whopping six months. Picture it: the one spot in Perth where drinking in the street is not only legal but culturally encouraged. A slice of Europe in a city where binge-drinking 40-year-olds live out their never-ending frat fantasies.
Life was, shall we say, tolerable—until I had the gall to get *pissed off* at my boss. Imagine a big-name exec flanked by a crew of sharp-dressed racists. Charming, right? A confrontation later, and poof, stability gone.
With $5,000 in savings and an insatiable thirst for adventure, I hopped on a plane to Thailand, then Nepal, aiming to reset. Little did I know, the tech chaos would follow me like a clingy ex.
The People Who Shaped My Code (For Better or Worse)
This library I’ve been working on? A tapestry woven from interactions with “the scum of society,” as some might put it. My roommates over the years have ranged from eccentric to outright unhinged. Like the guy who laughed like the Joker at 3 a.m. while shouting, “I just got out of jail!” or the flatmate who thought my library index was the holy grail of jailhouse DIY projects.
It wasn’t all bad, though. These experiences gave me a unique audience perspective. If my code could withstand the scrutiny of hippies high on delusion and junkies with criminal résumés, I figured it could handle just about anything.
The Hackathon Dream
Fast-forward to me, zen after a 10-day meditation retreat, stumbling across the MOVE blockchain hackathon on Devpost. The API looked elegant, the prize tempting. Fueled by caffeine, tropical fruits, and sheer delusion, I dove in headfirst.
Two weeks of unhealthy coding later, I’d built a masterpiece:
- - Learned Rust for the backend.
- - Mastered Solid.js for the frontend.
- - Created a file explorer that saved itself to the MOVE blockchain.
- - Integrated a sleek Solid.js wallet with the MOVE API.
What could go wrong? *Everything.*
The Downfall of MOVE (and My Sanity)
Just as I was polishing the UX, the heavens opened. A monsoon-induced blackout hit my remote Thai mountain town, leaving me laptop-less and water-deprived for four days. When power finally returned, the clock was ticking.
I had mere days to finish, but my wallet integration mysteriously broke. Debugging led nowhere, and in a sleep-deprived haze, I refactored a massive chunk of code. Still broken. Switch to another MOVE wallet—same result. The realization hit harder than a late rent notice: the MOVE TestNet had gone down for weeks.
No notice. No explanation. Just… gone.
Lessons Learned (or Not)
MOVE, you cost me sleep, sanity, and any lingering faith in humanity. May your blockchain rest in the dumpster fire where it belongs.
To my fellow coders: if you’re ever tempted to jump on the next hyped-up tech train, remember this tale of woe. Hackathons may be about innovation, but they’re also about knowing when to cut your losses.
So here’s to failure, and here’s to MOVE—may I never see you again.