Windows Event Logs: Relax and Focus on What Matters

If Windows Event Logs were a person, they’d be the anxious assistant who insists on documenting every detail of your day. They’d jot down when you walked into the office, when you opened your laptop, when the lights flickered, and when the coffee machine sputtered. They mean well, but the result is a never-ending diary no one has the time—or patience—to read.

Now picture a company executive, curious after reading about cyber threats, opening Event Viewer for the first time. A red “Error” icon flashes across the screen. Hearts race. Phones ring. Suddenly, IT is scrambling, only to discover the so-called emergency was nothing more than a printer that hadn’t woken up yet. The day’s energy is wasted, and the business hasn’t moved forward an inch.

The hard truth is that most of these logs—especially the ones that look most dramatic—are noise. They are routine, expected, and often meaningless. Microsoft says so, and even Mark Russinovich, the technical leader behind Windows internals, has compared the raw log stream to drinking from a firehose. The challenge is not in reading every entry but in knowing which ones actually matter.

The Noise Beneath the Red Icons

Windows logs are thorough. Every login, every application start, every background hiccup is carefully recorded and labeled: Information, Warning, Error, or Critical. The categories sound serious, but in reality, most of what appears is harmless.

A login at nine in the morning? Just another employee starting their day. A group policy error during boot? Likely a network drive that was momentarily offline. Even the dreaded DCOM warnings—staples of many logs—are more cosmetic than catastrophic.

Microsoft has been clear: Windows is designed to recover from small stumbles on its own. Many of the “errors” logged are nothing more than temporary glitches that never affect performance, security, or user experience. They exist because the system is meticulous, not because the system is failing.

Group Policy: The Drama Queen of Logs

If there’s one category that causes more boardroom panic than any other, it’s group policy errors. These messages appear loud, red, and urgent. But the story behind them is usually mundane.

A classic example is timing. Imagine a user logging in while a server is still syncing or a printer is still waking up. The system tries to apply a policy, can’t quite connect, and cries “Error!” into the log. Minutes later everything is fine, but the dramatic entry remains, ready to spook anyone who stumbles across it.

Executives should know this: Microsoft itself advises ignoring these errors unless they are persistent or tied to an actual problem. They are part of the background hum of a complex network, no more alarming than static on a radio.

Microsoft’s Playbook: Less Stress, More Focus

To cut through the clutter, Microsoft’s guidance is refreshingly practical. They encourage organizations to log only what matters—security changes, system crashes, or genuine hardware failures—and to filter out the rest.

They also warn against what they call “log bloat.” Capture too much, and not only do you waste storage, but you also slow systems down and drown your IT team in meaningless data. It’s the equivalent of saving every junk mail flyer “just in case.”

The better strategy is targeted logging. Collect enough to diagnose real issues, but keep the signal-to-noise ratio under control. And for companies managing thousands of systems, centralizing logs into a platform like Splunk or Azure Monitor allows IT to spot meaningful patterns without scrolling endlessly through Event Viewer.

Sysmon: Cutting the Firehose Down to a Stream

Russinovich’s answer to the flood of irrelevant detail was Sysmon, a lightweight tool that filters Windows events with precision. Without configuration, it still produces plenty of entries, but with a little tuning, the noise drops dramatically. Suddenly, logs capture what really matters—network connections, application launches, suspicious behavior—while ignoring the static.

For executives, the value is simple: when IT isn’t drowning in meaningless alerts, they’re free to focus on keeping systems secure and pushing the business forward. Sysmon, combined with Microsoft’s philosophy of targeted logging, gives companies clarity instead of clutter.

The Business Case for Not Panicking

Here’s the perspective leaders need: in a healthy network, as much as ninety percent of log entries are harmless. They are the equivalent of your system muttering under its breath, not waving a red flag. Chasing after every entry wastes resources and diverts attention from projects that actually grow the company.

Handled properly, logs aren’t a source of stress but a source of strength. They provide evidence for compliance, catch genuine threats early, and can even save money by reducing unnecessary storage costs. But only if they’re filtered and managed intelligently.

Executives don’t need to become experts in Event Viewer. They only need to trust that a well-designed logging strategy will bring real issues to light while leaving the noise in the background.

The Bottom Line

Windows Event Logs can feel overwhelming, especially to those who stumble across them for the first time. But most of what they record is routine, expected, and harmless. The errors that look alarming on screen are often nothing more than timing glitches or background chatter.

The real task isn’t to read every log—it’s to know which ones matter. With Microsoft’s guidance and tools like Sysmon, companies can tune their systems to highlight what’s important and ignore the rest. For executives, that means peace of mind. Your IT team can focus on keeping the business secure and productive, while you keep your energy where it belongs: leading, innovating, and moving forward.

Standing Against Darkness: Shining Light in a World That Denies Its Shadows

Every morning, I sit down to write code. There’s a quiet thrill in watching a chaotic idea transform into something structured, functional, and alive. When a program runs smoothly—no errors, no crashes—it feels like a small miracle. But the world outside my IDE isn’t so tidy. Some bugs don’t live in code; they fester in hearts, minds, and societies. And those are the hardest to debug. We’re at a crossroads, a moment that demands we pay attention. Not long ago, a man who built his life on asking questions, challenging assumptions, and sparking debate was murdered. He wasn’t armed. He wasn’t inciting violence. He was just speaking—using words to probe the world’s contradictions. And yet, instead of mourning, some people celebrated. They cheered his death like it was a touchdown in a game they’d already won. Pause and let that sink in. What does it mean when we rejoice over the silencing of a voice? What does it say about us when we treat truth-tellers like threats?

This isn’t just a glitch in the system. It’s a corruption in the source code of our culture. If we shrug, scroll past, or join the laughter, we’re signing off on a malicious update—one that rewrites our values to normalize cruelty. But we don’t have to accept that patch. We can reject it. We can debug the system. And we must, because history shows us what happens when we don’t.

A Pattern as Old as Time

This isn’t new. The story of light meeting darkness is woven into the fabric of human history. Abel, the son of Adam, was killed by his brother Cain—not for any crime, but for offering his worship to God (Genesis 4:1-8). Prophets like Jeremiah were mocked, beaten, and imprisoned for speaking truths their societies didn’t want to hear. The apostles of Christ faced whips, chains, and execution for preaching love and redemption. Joseph Smith, who restored a faith that challenged the status quo, was gunned down in a jail in Carthage, Illinois, in 1844. John F. Kennedy, with his vision of a freer world, was assassinated in 1963. Martin Luther King Jr., who dared to dream of equality, was cut down in 1968. And at the heart of it all, Jesus Christ Himself was crucified—not for violence, but for teaching love, faith, and truth. The pattern is unmistakable: those who carry light into darkness almost always face resistance. Sometimes it’s mockery. Sometimes it’s exclusion. And sometimes, it’s violence. Evil believes that by silencing the messenger, it can kill the message. But it’s wrong. Truth doesn’t die with the one who speaks it. If anything, it burns brighter. The blood of martyrs, as the early Christian writer Tertullian said, is the seed of the Church. Ideas, like well-written code, don’t vanish when the terminal closes—they spread, iterate, and endure.

The Lie of Silence

Here’s the hard truth: staying silent is not neutral. Evil thrives in the gaps where good people say nothing. It’s like ignoring a compiler warning in your code. You might think, “It’s just a warning, it’ll probably be fine.” But those warnings pile up, and soon enough, the whole system crashes. Silence is how corruption spreads—how cruelty becomes normal, how lies become truth. When we hear coworkers, friends, or strangers mocking a tragedy or cheering violence, we can’t just nod and move on. That’s not a minor bug; that’s a system failure. But speaking up doesn’t mean shouting or fighting. It can be as simple as saying, “That’s not okay.” It can be a question: “Why would you laugh at someone’s death?” It can be a quiet refusal to join the chorus of cynicism. One voice, one moment of courage, can shift the room. Studies in social psychology, like those by Solomon Asch in the 1950s, show that even a single dissenting voice can break the pressure to conform. When one person stands up, others find the courage to follow. Your voice matters more than you think.

The Power of Joy

Here’s something evil doesn’t expect: joy. Darkness wants us to cower, to despair, to believe the world is too broken to fix. But when we smile, when we laugh, when we keep building despite the weight of the world, we’re sending a message: you don’t get to write the ending. Joy isn’t denial—it’s defiance. It’s the refusal to let cruelty define us.

Think of Desmond Tutu during South Africa’s apartheid era. Facing a brutal regime, he didn’t just fight with words—he fought with warmth, humor, and an unshakable belief in a better future. His joy disarmed oppressors and inspired millions. Or consider the early Christians, who sang hymns in prison cells (Acts 16:25). Their joy wasn’t weakness; it was a weapon. It proved that no chain could bind their hope. In programming terms, joy is like optimizing your code for resilience. It’s not about ignoring errors—it’s about building a system that keeps running, no matter what crashes around it. Every time you choose kindness over cruelty, hope over cynicism, or creation over destruction, you’re writing a line of code in a better program.

Repentance: Rewriting the Code

Let’s be clear: people aren’t irredeemable. Even those who celebrate darkness can change. Even those who commit evil can turn back. God’s door is always open, and grace is always possible. But repentance isn’t a one-word apology. It’s a process. It’s work. It’s like debugging a broken program—you don’t just comment out the bad code and call it a day. You analyze the error, rewrite the logic, test it rigorously, and maintain it over time. True repentance requires action: making amends, seeking forgiveness, and proving through a changed life that the bug is gone. This matters because it reminds us not to write anyone off. The person laughing at violence today might be tomorrow’s advocate for truth—if they’re challenged, if they’re shown a better way. That’s part of carrying the light: seeing the potential for redemption, even in the darkest places.

What We’re Called to Do

So where does this leave us? Right here, right now, in a world that’s messy and broken but not beyond repair. We’re not bystanders. We’re not here to hide or wait for better times. We’re here to act, to build, to shine. In programming, a single line of code doesn’t look like much. It’s just a string of characters. But combine enough lines, and you’ve got an application that can change the world. Our actions work the same way. One stand for truth, one act of courage, one refusal to join in cruelty—it adds up. Across thousands, millions of people, it becomes a movement.

Here are some practical ways to start:

• Speak Up: When you hear someone mocking or trivializing evil, don’t stay silent. A simple, “That’s not right,” can shift the conversation. It’s like adding a breakpoint to debug bad behavior.
• Build Something Good: Create—whether it’s art, code, a kind gesture, or a community. Creation is the opposite of destruction. It’s light in action.
• Stay Joyful: Choose hope, humor, and kindness, even when it’s hard. It’s not about ignoring pain—it’s about proving that pain doesn’t win.
• Learn from History: Read about those who stood for truth—prophets, reformers, leaders. Their stories remind us that the light endures. Start with figures like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who resisted Nazi evil with faith and courage.
• Pray and Reflect: If faith is part of your life, ask for strength to stand firm. If not, take time to clarify your values. What kind of world do you want to build?

The Light Wins

The world can feel dark. But darkness only makes the light more visible. The prophets, apostles, and dreamers who came before us didn’t quit because the world was hard. They stood their ground, even when it cost them everything. Their voices still echo—because truth doesn’t die. It’s like a well-written program: once it’s out there, it runs forever. We were born for this moment—not to shrink back, not to blend in, but to live boldly. To speak truth. To create beauty. To laugh in the face of despair. Nothing frustrates darkness more than people who keep smiling as they carry the light. So let’s do it. Let’s stand, speak, build, and laugh. Let’s write the code for a better world, one line at a time.

The Author of this story already wrote the ending. Spoiler alert: the light wins. Until then, let’s keep coding.

Unraveling the Shenanigans: Money, Hype, and Half-Baked Science Mucking Up the Works

Alright, folks, strap on your waders—we’re stepping into the swamp where science gets tangled in cash, doomsday predictions, and enough hot air to float a blimp. This isn’t about spreading gloom; it’s about exposing the tricks, sifting through the muck, and arming you with the smarts to cut through the fog. We’re tearing into the replication crisis shaking science like a rickety shed in a storm, how money twists research into knots, why catastrophe forecasts flop like a fish on a dock, and how this mess muddies everything from meta-studies to business decisions. We’ll eyeball the shady dealings of billionaire philanthropists and NGOs, the propaganda pumping panic, and how flawed demographic assumptions in studies lead to shaky conclusions. Plus, we’ll tackle how to make rock-solid business decisions when the ground’s shifting under your feet. Let’s get to it!

Replication Rumble: When Science Can’t Stick to Its Story

Picture a scientist hollering “ Eureka!” only for the next guy to try it and get zilch. That’s the replication crisis, hitting fields like psychology and medicine harder than a hammer on a walnut. One massive redo of 100 psych studies found just 36% held up. If only a third of your “game-changers” stick, that’s not science—it’s a coin flip with fancy charts. Call it greed, call it a cult, call it what you want, but it ain’t truth.

Why the bust? Journals chase juicy, headline-grabbing results, so “nothing happened” studies get buried—classic publication bias. Add p-hacking, where data gets massaged till it confesses, and sample sizes so puny they’d make a pig blush, and you’ve got shaky claims dressed up as gospel. Meta-studies, those big reviews pooling dozens of papers, just slurp up this slop, amplifying errors like a megaphone in a canyon. If the originals are bunk, the meta’s a house of cards, collapsing under its own weight and muddling the truth worse than a hog in a mud pit. But hold up—preregistration, where scientists lock in plans upfront, is forcing folks to play straight. More journals are publishing “null” results, giving truth a fighting chance. It’s a slow grind, but it’s proof we can clean this mess up.

Money Talks, Science Balks: Funding’s Dirty Little Secrets

Follow the cash, and you’ll find the puppet strings. Industry-funded studies, like Big Pharma’s, are four times likelier to cheer for the sponsor’s product—shocker, huh? Government grants chase politically hot topics like flies to honey. In climate science, billions flow to “the sky’s falling” studies because that’s what keeps the checks coming. Meanwhile, oil barons bankroll “no big deal” papers to keep their rigs humming.

It’s not a tinfoil-hat plot—it’s incentives doing their thing. Scientists need to eat, so they tilt toward what pays, sometimes stretching facts like dough. Billionaire philanthropists and their foundations push their own agendas, steering research to fit their vision. The flip side? Those dollars fund real work, too—cures, tech, you name it. The trick is spotting the bias. New rules on disclosing conflicts are like a flashlight in the fog, letting us ask, “Who’s bankrolling this?” That’s how we keep the game honest.

Prophecy Flops: Ice Caps, Floods, and Other No-Shows

Let’s talk about the prediction parade tripping over its own feet. Back in 2009, folks claimed the Arctic ice cap might vanish by 2013-2014—spoiler: It’s still there, ebbing and flowing like nature’s been doing forever. Florida’s coastlines were supposed to be mermaid turf by now, but they’re holding firm, no Atlantis in sight. Over 50 doomsday calls since the ‘70s—global cooling, mass starvation, oil drying up—have fizzled like a wet firecracker.

Why the flops? Models lean on assumptions that miss nature’s wild card—solar cycles, ocean currents, or ice shifts we’ve only peeked at for a blip in geologic time. Scientists say these were “scenarios,” not guarantees, and warming’s real—just not the apocalypse. Every miss sharpens our skepticism for the next big claim.

Demographic Delusions: When Study Assumptions Crumble

Many studies lean on demographic data—like income, education, or lifestyle—to predict outcomes like health or happiness, but their baked-in assumptions often crack under scrutiny. Models might assume higher education or wealth equals better health, but real-world outcomes tell a messier story. A 2018 study tied education to lower mortality, but when you dig into the demographics, factors like job satisfaction, community ties, or even diet carry as much weight, and debt or stress can wipe out supposed gains. These studies, often funded by institutions with agendas, overplay tidy correlations—say, that a college degree or high income guarantees a happier life—yet crumble when tested against diverse populations or long-term data.

Why the disconnect? Surveys underpinning these models often skew toward specific groups, like urban elites, and miss the broader picture—rural communities, self-taught hustlers, or folks thriving outside traditional metrics. When scrutinized, the data doesn’t hold up; outcomes vary wildly across demographics, exposing the flimsy assumptions. This muddies the waters, leading to policies or business strategies that miss the mark, like hiring practices favoring degrees over skills or health initiatives ignoring cultural differences. The lesson? Assumptions about demographics aren’t truth—they’re guesses that need relentless testing against reality.

Money Laundering Masquerade: Billionaires and NGOs in the Hot Seat

Zoom in on billionaire philanthropists and their foundations, wielding war chests worth billions. Critics say they’re pushing corporate agendas dressed as charity—favoring pricey patented drugs over open-access solutions, skewing global health priorities. Some whisper “money laundering” through NGOs, where tax breaks let elites funnel influence while looking saintly. Senate probes have flagged anti-corruption slip-ups in these groups, raising red flags about who’s calling the shots. Posts on X point to vaccine trials—like a 2010 HPV case in India halted for ethical breaches after deaths, or Namibia rejecting a contraception trial over consent issues—as fuel for distrust.

These efforts come with grand promises—saving lives, fixing the planet—but outcomes can fall short, sparking questions about hidden motives. Take population control: Some billionaires talk openly about curbing growth, yet trials linked to their funds raise eyebrows, like reports of health programs tied to fertility issues in developing nations. While debunked by authorities, the lack of crystal-clear transparency keeps suspicion alive. This “philanthrocapitalism” can turn science into a tool for the uber-wealthy, muddling the waters with every dollar. Transparency’s the fix—demanding clear funding trails keeps the pressure on.

Fear Factory: Propaganda Pumping Panic for Profit

Why’s every headline screaming the world’s about to implode? It pays. Alarmist stories lock in grants, swing policies, and juice markets for “green” tech. Big oil flips the script, blaming us for emissions while dodging their mess—straight out of the tobacco playbook. Both sides churn propaganda, from “we’re all doomed” to “it’s no biggie,” and misinformation spreads faster than gossip in a small town.

Meta-studies, already wobbly from bad science, get sucked into this vortex, spitting out conclusions that sound legit but rest on quicksand. It’s a double whammy—bad data plus panic-driven spin. X posts amplify this, with claims of “self-assembling microcrystal” tech sparking population collapse fears. No hard evidence backs these, but they feed the panic. Spotting this game lets us sidestep the traps and make clear-headed calls.

Business and Leadership Bumbles: Navigating a Minefield of Bad Science

This mess doesn’t stay in the lab—it slams businesses and leaders like a rogue wave. Regulations from shaky forecasts, like carbon taxes or green subsidies, jack up costs, sometimes killing jobs without delivering the promised planet-saving bang. Small businesses smell a rat in the “green or bust” hype and push back, slowing real progress. Greenwashing’s worse—big players slap eco-labels on junk, scamming investors and customers. Meta-studies trick leaders, too. Companies lean on these “definitive” reviews for strategy, but when they’re built on 36%-reliable science or flawed demographic assumptions, it’s like navigating with a busted compass. Panic-driven policies force rash moves—sinking cash into unproven tech or chasing trends based on skewed health or happiness metrics.

Leaders trusting these studies, assuming they’re gospel, can get burned. Take climate policies: A CEO might pivot to renewables based on dire predictions, only to find costs soaring and supply chains shaky when those forecasts don’t pan out. Or consider health initiatives: Firms adopting wellness programs based on studies linking wealth to happiness might miss the mark if their workforce—diverse in background—faces different stressors, like debt or cultural barriers, that the data ignored. X posts highlight this, with voices questioning health or climate initiatives tied to billionaire funds, claiming they prioritize agendas over outcomes. Hidden agendas—profit, control, or political clout—can lead to decisions that look good on paper but flop in practice.

So, how do you make solid business decisions in this swamp? First, stick to truths that stand the test of time. Nature’s cycles—ice, oceans, climate—don’t bend to headlines or grants. Base strategies on measurable, proven data, like historical trends over speculative models. Second, dig for primary sources. Skip the meta-study spin and check raw data or original experiments. If only 36% replicate, demand the ones that do. Third, question demographic assumptions. If a study claims wealth or education equals health, test it against your own data—does it hold for your team or customers? Fourth, diversify your bets—don’t jump at every foul or fair wind. Spread investments across stable sectors, not just trendy “green” tech, to hedge against hype-driven flops. Fifth, lean on transparent, independent audits of research influencing your moves. If the funding’s murky, assume the science might be, too. Leaders who question the noise, cross-check claims, and focus on long-term stability turn traps into wins, saving cash and keeping their edge.

Nature’s Still the Boss: We’re Not as Smart as We Think

Zoom out. We’ve studied nature for a few hundred years—a sneeze in Earth’s timeline. Thinking we’ve cracked her code is like a kid claiming they’ve mastered chess after one game. Ice caps, oceans, climates—they cycle in ways we’re still piecing together. Bad science ignores this, chasing grants and headlines instead of truth. Those failed predictions? They’re reminders nature doesn’t bow to our models or agendas.

Demographic studies are no better. Assumptions that wealth or education equal happiness or health often fail when tested against real-world outcomes, like stress, debt, or cultural differences. These shaky models, often funded by those with skin in the game, lead to policies and decisions that miss the mark. The lesson? Stay humble, keep questioning, and don’t let moneyed interests hijack the truth.

Clearing the Mud: Getting Science Back on Track

What a slog through this muck! From replication flops and money-driven muddles to busted prophecies, propaganda, and meta-studies sinking in bad-science quicksand, it’s clear incentives can turn science into a circus. That 36% replication rate? It’s a wake-up call—science should chase truth, not wallets. Billionaire philanthropists, with their billions and murky motives, fuel distrust when outcomes don’t match promises. Flawed demographic assumptions in studies push shaky conclusions, misguiding leaders and policies. But we’re not stuck. Businesses and leaders can dodge traps by betting on solid data, demanding transparency, and testing claims against reality. Stay sharp, keep asking “Why?” and let’s make science—and the future—clear as a sunny day. We’ve got this!

PowerShell in the Windows World: Keep It, Kill VBScript

Picture me, a Workstation Engineer, chugging an "energy drink" in a chaotic corporate office when someone drops a bombshell: “Let’s disable PowerShell for all standard users!” They’re waving their arms, shouting about hackers and malicious scripts. I nearly spit out my Rockstar. Hold up, I think. Isn’t PowerShell the duct tape holding our automation together? Welcome to the great Windows admin debate: Should we lock PowerShell away from standard users, or is there a smarter way to harness its magic?

Spoiler: Banning PowerShell is like throwing out your toolbox because a wrench might be misused. It’s a terrible idea. PowerShell is the backbone of automation on Windows (and even other OSes with PowerShell Core), saving everyone’s sanity. But before we get to securing it, let’s talk about why disabling it is a disaster, why VBScript needs to be yeeted into oblivion, and how to keep PowerShell safe without breaking everything.

Why PowerShell Matters: The Automation All-Star

Imagine a data analyst—let’s call him Taylor—running a PowerShell script every Monday to crunch numbers and spit out sales reports. Five minutes, done. Without PowerShell, Taylor’s stuck clicking through spreadsheets for hours, cursing under his breath. That’s PowerShell’s superpower: It automates the boring stuff— file and folder management, report building and sending, inventory management, auditing, you name it. It’s not just for IT nerds like me; it’s for anyone who’d rather work smart than slog through manual tasks.

But power comes with risk. In the wrong hands—like some hacker or an overzealous employee—PowerShell can run rogue scripts or poke sensitive systems. So, some folks suggest locking it down for everyone but admins. Sounds logical, right? Nope. It’s a trainwreck waiting to happen.

The Case Against Disabling PowerShell: A Dumpster Fire Waiting

If I flip the switch and disable PowerShell for standard users, here’s what goes down. Brace yourself.

Productivity Tanks

Back to Taylor, our analyst. No PowerShell means they’re firing off IT tickets every week to run that report script. My inbox explodes, Taylor’s annoyed, and the sales team’s screaming about late reports. Multiply that by every employee who uses PowerShell for legit tasks, and we’ve got a productivity apocalypse. It’s like banning forks or spoons because someone might stab something—sure, it’s “safe,” but now we’re all slurping soup with our hands.

Admin Rights Nightmare

Here’s where it gets ugly. Taylor can’t run scripts, so they beg, “Just make me an admin!” Under pressure, I might cave and grant full admin rights. Now Taylor’s not just running scripts—they can install software, tweak system settings, or accidentally nuke the company database. That breaks my number-one rule: least privilege, where users get only what they need, nothing more. I’ve swapped a small risk for a massive security gap.

Shadow IT Sneaks In

Think users will just give up? Ha. Block PowerShell, and they’ll dig up sketchy third-party tools or write janky batch files. Suddenly, I’ve got zero visibility or control. It’s like banning cars to stop crashes, only to find everyone zipping around on knockoff scooters. The “fix” is worse than the problem.

Disabling PowerShell doesn’t solve anything—it just creates chaos. But before we fix it, let’s deal with an older, uglier problem: VBScript.

VBScript: Time to Pull the Plug

Now, picture another admin—call him Riley—leaning back and saying, “Why not just use VBScript? It worked fine for years!” I get it. Back in the day, VBScript was the go-to for automating Windows tasks—user management, file tweaks, you name it. But let’s be real: VBScript is a security nightmare and a relic that needs to go.

VBScript’s problems are legion. It’s got no real auditing, so tracking what scripts did is a guessing game. It’s a hacker’s playground—easy to exploit for malicious payloads. And it’s woefully outdated, lacking the muscle for modern IT environments. PowerShell was Microsoft’s answer, and it’s light-years ahead with robust commands, logging, and system integration.

So, what do we do with VBScript? Disable it. Completely. No nostalgia here. Using DISM (Deployment Image Servicing and Management), we can shut it down for good. Here’s how:

1. Open an elevated PowerShell Prompt.
2. Run:

   Get-WindowsCapability -Online -Name "VBSCRIPT~~~~" | Remove-WindowsCapability -Online -Verbose
   

3. Reboot should not be necessary but it's always a safe bet.

This kills VBScript. Why take the risk? VBScript’s a liability, and PowerShell does everything better. Riley might grumble, but modern IT demands modern tools. Let’s move on to locking down PowerShell the right way.

Smarter Security: Taming PowerShell Like a Pro

Instead of banning PowerShell, let’s treat it like a sports car: Add seatbelts, a speed limiter, and a tracker. Here are two killer ways to keep it secure while letting users do their jobs.

1. Signed Scripts: The VIP Pass for Code

PowerShell’s execution policies are like a club bouncer. They decide what scripts get to party. The top options:

• AllSigned: Only scripts signed by a trusted source (like my IT team) can run. It’s like needing a verified ID—no signature, no dice.
• RemoteSigned: Internet-downloaded scripts need a signature, but local ones run free. It’s looser, like checking IDs only for strangers.

When someone tries a script, PowerShell checks for a digital signature—like your phone verifying an app. Signed by us? Green light. Unsigned or from a sketchy source? Blocked with a “nice try.”

Why It Rocks: Hackers can’t sneak in rogue scripts. Even if they trick someone into downloading malware, it won’t run without our signature. I’d go AllSigned for max security—signing scripts takes effort, but it’s like locking your doors instead of hoping nobody breaks in.

2. Custom Profiles & JEA: PowerShell on a Leash

Not everyone needs the full PowerShell toolkit. A marketing manager doesn’t need server access any more than I need a flamethrower to toast bread. Enter PowerShell profiles and Just Enough Administration (JEA)—my dynamic duo for role-based control.

• PowerShell Profiles: These are like custom playlists, picking which commands (cmdlets) a user gets. For example:

  • Taylor gets file and data cmdlets for reports.
  • A helpdesk worker gets password reset tools, nothing else.
  • An intern? Maybe just Get-Help.

• Just Enough Administration (JEA): This is next-level. JEA lets me delegate tasks without handing over the keys to the kingdom. Think of it as a key that only opens the supply closet, not my office. Taylor can run their report script without admin rights or the ability to mess with anything else.

Why It Rocks: This nails least privilege. Users get what they need, nothing more, slashing the risk of chaos. It’s flexible too—I can tweak profiles for roles, teams, or even quirky one-offs.

A Day in the Life: PowerShell Done Right

Picture Taylor’s Monday with PowerShell secured, not disabled:

1. They fire up PowerShell to run their report script.
2. It’s signed by IT, so AllSigned lets it roll.
3. Their profile limits them to file and data cmdlets, so even if they try something crazy (like reformatting a server), PowerShell shuts it down with a “not on your list, pal.”
4. Report’s done in five minutes, Taylor grabs coffee, and I don’t see a single ticket.

Compare that to disabling PowerShell, where Taylor’s begging for admin rights or drowning in manual work. Which sounds better for my sanity?

The “It’s Too Much Work!” Complaint

You might think, “This sounds awesome, but isn’t it a pain to set up?” Yeah, signing scripts and building profiles isn’t as easy as flipping a switch. I’ve got to:

• Train my team on code signing.
• Map out roles and permissions.
• Test it all to avoid breaking workflows.

But the payoff? Huge. Fewer breaches, fewer admin rights disasters, and fewer users bugging me. It’s like installing a smart lock—takes an afternoon, but beats dealing with break-ins.

The Final Word: Keep PowerShell, Ditch VBScript

PowerShell’s a game-changer for Windows (and beyond with its cross-platform tricks). Disabling it to “fix” security is like banning pizza because someone might overeat—dumb and messy. And don’t get me started on VBScript—it’s a security sinkhole that deserves to be DISM’d into oblivion. Secure PowerShell with signed scripts and role-based controls instead. Your systems stay safe, your users stay happy, and you get to finish your Rockstar in peace.

Next time someone suggests disabling PowerShell, I’m grinning and saying, “Nah, let’s ditch VBScript and sharpen our PowerShell game.” Then I’ll hand them this article. They’ll get it.

Want to Dig Deeper?

• PowerShell Execution Policies Explained
• Just Enough Administration (JEA) Overview
• The Quest for Secure PowerShell: Navigating the Wild World of Just Enough Administration and Script Safety

Stop Treating Your Clients Like Lizards: Building Better Corporate Relationships

Introduction

We’ve all been there—trapped in a meeting with a manager who seems to have crawled out from under a heat lamp, blinking, demanding, and ready to strike. It’s tempting to joke that you’re dealing with a lizard person—cold-blooded, unreasonable, and likely to devour your sanity. But here's the catch: they’re not lizards. They’re humans. And often, they’re under pressures and constraints just like you.

In the high-pressure world of information technology, relationships with internal or external clients can make or break not only your day, but your project. When frustrations build, it’s easy to adopt an "us versus them" mentality. This article challenges that instinct and argues for a more mature, productive approach to difficult corporate interactions—one rooted in empathy, professionalism, and the principle of win-win.

The Dehumanizing Trap

Labeling people—especially as something subhuman like “a lizard”—is a psychological shortcut. It creates emotional distance and protects us from vulnerability or the discomfort of conflict. But it also blinds us. The moment we caricature someone, we reduce our ability to connect, understand, and serve.

Stephen Covey famously wrote, "Seek first to understand, then to be understood." That isn't just good philosophy—it’s sound strategy. In IT, where professionals often feel like order-takers or scapegoats, there’s a temptation to turn sour. But the client isn’t the enemy. They're the reason the job exists.

Quick Example:

I was in a meeting not long ago with a director and they advising me on how to deal with difficult clients. The conversation turned to emotional resilience and political navigation in tense environments. He told me, quite seriously, that in order to survive, you have to think of clients as lizards. This is not an exact quote but in essence he said, It’s how you protect yourself. You have to play the game. If you don’t, you’ll get eaten.

It struck me as an odd and even dehumanizing way to think about other people. I understood the sentiment—emotional distance as a shield—but something about it didn’t sit right. Given my own nature and upbringing, I could see that I simply didn’t share the same paradigm. I asked myself what it would mean to adopt that mindset. Would I become cynical? Would I stop listening to what the client was actually trying to say?

In our rush to resolve tickets and deliver fixes, it’s easy to dismiss client concerns—especially if they’re inexperienced or vague in their requests. But too often, those “vague” clients are just people placed in positions they’re qualified for on paper, yet without deep technical experience. They’re not lizards. They’re people trying to navigate a complex environment with tools they may not fully understand.

Treating them as “other” might feel protective, but it fosters distrust and disconnection. You can't truly resolve someone’s problem if you see them as beneath you, or as a threat. True professionalism—real collaboration—starts with seeing the person.

Understanding Their World

Every "difficult" person has a context—pressures, incentives, and blind spots that shape their behavior. Professionals in management roles are often juggling goals, KPIs, limited resources, and their own fears. When a manager is pushy or vague, it may not be because they’re inconsiderate. They may not know how to speak your language. That’s not malevolence; it’s misalignment.

So what can you do?

• Ask clarifying questions before jumping to conclusions.
• Look for their success metrics. Are they trying to hit a deployment deadline? Reduce costs? Impress a superior?
• Mirror their concerns in your language. (“It sounds like uptime is your top concern; here’s how we can minimize risk while addressing that.”)

This doesn’t mean surrendering your professional boundaries—it means aligning your efforts to support theirs.

"People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." — Maya Angelou

Communicating with Clarity and Respect

A major point of friction in IT-client relationships is communication. Technical professionals often assume clients understand more than they do—or they become frustrated having to "dumb things down."

It’s important to emphasize that if you're a technical person, it's perfectly okay to explain things in a technical way. That’s your language. The key is knowing when and how to pair that explanation with a relatable analogy or metaphor. This is especially useful when the client doesn't share your background, which is often the case.

Oftentimes, you'll find yourself not just solving a problem, but teaching others. Helping a client clearly understand what's at stake—and how a particular process works—can spark a more meaningful dialogue. In some cases, it may even prompt the client to rethink their request or rephrase it more effectively.

As someone who views the world through a technical lens, I know it can be difficult to relate those details to everyday comparisons. That’s where the principle of seeking first to understand before being understood becomes incredibly useful. Understanding what your client already knows—or thinks they know—about a given system helps you meet them where they are. From there, you can teach, clarify, or provide just enough insight for them to engage in a more thoughtful way.

There's no guarantee they'll respond well—but your respect in listening, paired with your honesty about the true impact of their request, builds trust and credibility. Respect goes both ways: respect to listen carefully, and respect to speak truthfully.

Here’s a more constructive approach:

• Speak plainly, not condescendingly. Don’t lecture; explain clearly and concisely.
• Use analogies or metaphors. If your client doesn't grasp DNS propagation, compare it to a message taking time to reach different outposts.
• Repeat back their concerns in your own words to ensure understanding.

This isn’t about playing politics—it’s about mutual clarity. Communication is the bridge to trust.

Reframing the Relationship

It's natural—especially in the corporate world—to think in terms of hierarchies. Many of us are taught to respect roles and chains of command through our schooling, careers, or military experience. That structure can be useful. It helps define responsibility and create order. But when it comes to solving real-world problems—especially in IT—it can get in the way.

When we treat clients as being lower in a hierarchy, we can unconsciously slip into thinking of ourselves as superior. We may even act like gatekeepers of knowledge, wielding our expertise like a weapon rather than a resource. But that mindset blocks collaboration, and collaboration is where real solutions begin.

Yes, you might be the subject-matter expert. And yes, your client might not fully understand the technical side of their own request. But your role isn’t to dominate—it’s to cooperate. The goal is shared success. The right frame of mind isn’t one of hierarchy; it’s one of partnership.

Changing your paradigm can lead to better conversations and better outcomes. Here are some ways to reframe common thoughts:

• From “They don’t get it” → “They see it differently.” Maybe I need to explain it another way. Or maybe I need to ask more questions to fully grasp their concern.
• From “This request is ridiculous” → “There’s likely a reason behind this request I haven’t uncovered yet.” Let me get curious instead of dismissive.
• From “I’ll just say yes to shut them up” → “Can I offer a better solution they’ll understand and support?” If I understand their real needs, I can guide them to the right answer—not just give them what they think they want.

Empathy doesn’t mean surrendering professional judgment. It means respecting the person enough to understand their point of view and working with them—not against them—to create a path forward. That’s how real collaboration happens.

Professionalism Means Emotional Maturity

Professionalism isn’t just about polished emails or meeting deadlines. At its core, it means being emotionally mature—choosing to act with restraint, clarity, and purpose even when others don’t.

Emotional maturity means you don’t lash out when misunderstood. You don’t escalate a situation just because you feel disrespected. You see the bigger picture: that your actions set the tone and direction of the relationship. It’s the ability to pause, listen, interpret, and respond—not just react.

It’s recognizing that your client’s urgency or frustration may not be personal. It’s their stress speaking. Instead of reflecting that emotion back at them, the mature professional offers steadiness. This steadiness builds credibility. It calms conflict. It fosters trust.

True professionals make space for dignity—even when it's not returned. They carry themselves in a way that invites others to rise. In this sense, emotional maturity is both a shield and a compass. It protects you from being pulled into petty conflict and guides you toward constructive outcomes.

And here’s the best part: it’s contagious. Show it enough, and even the most difficult client might just surprise you.

Conclusion

In corporate IT, you're not just a technician—you’re a relationship builder. While it may feel satisfying in the moment to joke about “lizard people,” it’s a trap that undermines your effectiveness. Instead, take the higher path.

Start with curiosity. Build bridges of communication. Seek win-win outcomes. And above all, remember that behind every frustrating interaction is a person—flawed, stressed, and perhaps more like you than you think.

Treat your clients not as reptiles to be handled, but as humans to be helped. You’ll not only be a better engineer—you’ll be a better coworker, leader, and person.

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"If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together." — African Proverb

Embracing Easter: The Journey from Sorrow to Joy

Easter is the heartbeat of our faith in the resurrected Jesus Christ, a celebration that pulses with the promise of life beyond the grave. It marks the moment when death was defeated, when the Savior rose, proving that no darkness is final. Yet, the joy of Easter is inseparable from the sorrow that precedes it—the agony of Gethsemane, the betrayal, the cross. This interplay of pain and triumph invites us to reflect on a profound question: why must we experience sorrow to know joy? Through scripture and the words of modern prophets, we find that sorrow is not a barrier but a bridge to joy, and it is Christ who makes this transformation possible.

Why does man need sorrow to understand joy? The Book of Mormon offers clarity through the prophet Lehi, who taught, "For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things" (2 Nephi 2:11). Without opposition, life would lack depth. Joy would be a flat note without sorrow to give it resonance. Lehi further explains, "Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy" (2 Nephi 2:25). The Fall brought mortality, with its struggles and heartaches, but it also opened the door to a joy that is more than fleeting happiness—it’s a state of being, refined through the trials we face. President Russell M. Nelson has echoed this truth: “The joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and everything to do with the focus of our lives.” When we focus on Christ, our sorrows become teachers, shaping us for a deeper, lasting joy.

Sorrow gives joy its meaning by providing contrast. A life without challenges might sound appealing, but it would be like a melody without rhythm—lacking the cadence that makes it beautiful. The sting of failure sharpens the sweetness of success. The ache of loss deepens our gratitude for love. Sorrow teaches us empathy, resilience, and hope, carving out space in our hearts for joy to take root. But it’s not enough to simply endure sorrow; we need a way to transform it, and that’s where Christ comes in.

Easter is the story of Christ’s atonement and resurrection, the twin pillars that turn sorrow into joy. In Gethsemane, He took upon Himself every human pain, as Alma describes: "And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind... that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities" (Alma 7:11–12). He didn’t just pay for our sins; He felt our grief, our doubts, our loneliness, so He could lift us through them. On the cross, He endured unimaginable suffering, and three days later, He rose, fulfilling the angelic declaration: "Why do ye seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen" (Luke 24:5–6). This is the promise of Easter—not that sorrow vanishes, but that it is swallowed up in victory.

President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, in his BYU speech "Joyfully Receive the Unexpected Messiah," captures this beautifully: “True joy is not found in the absence of trials but in the presence of the Savior.” Christ’s life defied human expectations—a humble carpenter, not a conquering king—yet His path led to eternal triumph. Uchtdorf reminds us, “The unexpected nature of the Messiah teaches us to look beyond our preconceptions and embrace the divine surprises that lead to deeper joy.” The resurrection was the greatest surprise, transforming the despair of Good Friday into the hope of Easter morning. It teaches us that our own unexpected trials can lead to unexpected joys when we trust in Him.

Christ’s atonement doesn’t erase sorrow; it redeems it. He promised His disciples, "Ye shall be sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy" (John 16:20). This isn’t a vague hope but a reality we can experience now. When we repent, when we turn to Him, He reshapes our pain into purpose. President Nelson has said, “When we choose to repent, we choose to change! We allow the Savior to transform us into the best version of ourselves.” Repentance is not just about correcting wrongs; it’s about letting Christ weave our sorrows into a tapestry of growth, where every thread serves a divine purpose.

This principle of opposition is woven into the human experience. Like a seed that must break open to grow, our sorrows—whether quiet disappointments or overwhelming losses—prepare us for joy. Without Christ, sorrow might feel like a barren wilderness. With Him, it becomes fertile ground, where every trial plants seeds of hope. As Uchtdorf teaches, “The Messiah often comes in ways we least expect.” Our moments of sorrow may be His gentle call to draw nearer, to discover a joy we could not have known without the struggle.

Easter’s promise shines brightest in this truth: Christ turns our winters into spring. His atonement transforms our deepest sorrows into sacred opportunities, and His resurrection—celebrated through 1,995 Easters since that first dawn—assures us that no pain is eternal. In Him, every tear becomes a prism for His light, every burden a step toward His embrace. He is the gardener of our souls, nurturing joy from the ashes of grief, and His living presence fills our hearts with hope that never fades.

Easter is a call to trust this divine alchemy, to see sorrow not as an end but as a beginning. It’s a reminder that Christ has walked the path of pain before us, carrying every burden so He could lead us to joy. Our focus on Him determines our joy. It’s His presence that makes joy real, even in the unexpected. This points to the heart of Easter—a Savior who lives, who loves, and who invites us to rise with Him. In Christ, our sorrows are not the final note; they are the prelude to a joy that echoes through eternity, a song of redemption that we are all invited to sing.

Appendix: Scriptural and References

📖 Scripture References

• 2 Nephi 2:11
  “For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things…”

• 2 Nephi 2:25
  “Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.”

• Alma 7:11–12
  “And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind... that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.”

• Luke 24:5–6
  “Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen.”

• John 16:20
  “Ye shall be sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy.”

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🗣️ Teachings of Modern Prophets and Apostles

President Russell M. Nelson

• “The joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and everything to do with the focus of our lives.”
• “When we choose to repent, we choose to change! We allow the Savior to transform us into the best version of ourselves.”

President Dieter F. Uchtdorf

• “True joy is not found in the absence of trials but in the presence of the Savior.”
• “The unexpected nature of the Messiah teaches us to look beyond our preconceptions and embrace the divine surprises that lead to deeper joy.”
• “The Messiah often comes in ways we least expect.”