The Trunk

A certain monk was summoned to the presence of master Bawan:

“This trunk holds something which must be brought to the Spider Clan,” said Bawan, pointing to a great wooden box bound with iron straps. “Carry it to the abbot unaided and he will reward you for your pains. A letter of explanation is tucked under the latch.”

With great difficulty the monk hoisted the trunk upon his back and set out across the temple grounds to the domicile of the temple’s web developers. There he was received by the abbot, who perused the letter while the exhausted monk waited for his reward.

“This trunk is none of my concern,” said the abbot, stuffing the letter back in place. “It must be brought to the abbess of Laughing Monkey Clan. Carry it there unaided and your compensation will be most enviable.”

The monk did as he was asked, panting with every step as he crossed the temple grounds to the domicile of the business logicians. The abbess resided on the topmost floor.

“This trunk is nothing to do with me,” said the abbess, who refused to let the monk set his burden down. “It must be brought to Elephant's Footprint Clan at once.”

“I think I see where this is going,” grimaced the monk. “Perhaps one of your own monks can carry it?”

“No time, no time!” said the abbess, tucking the letter back under the latch as she shooed the monk out the door. “Carry it there unaided and great riches will await you!”

An hour later the monk staggered into the domicile of the temple’s persistence-tier coders, collapsing in the main hallway with the trunk still on his back. The white-haired abbot was summoned.

“Wonderful!” said the old abbot after reading the letter. The semi-conscious monk heard him open the lid and close it again. “Monk, wake up! As reward for your service you may keep everything else in the trunk. Now be off!”

The monk crawled slowly out the door, like a turtle laboring under a great wooden shell. It was nighttime when he reached his own quarters and tipped the trunk off his back. The top fell open and a hundred iron boxes spilled out.

He opened them one by one. All were empty.

Nothing else remained in the trunk but Bawan’s letter, which the old abbot had tossed back inside. The monk unfolded it and read:

To the abbots of the Three Clans—

In examining the performance problems of our shopping cart system, I discovered that hundreds of actions in the webtier are loading the very large and complex CatalogInfo object tree from the database.

In examining the webtier, I discovered that these actions are simply passing the unexamined CatalogInfo into the sixteen service-tier methods which happen to demand it.

In examining the service tier, I discovered that these methods are simply passing the unexamined CatalogInfo into four persistence-tier methods which happen to demand it.

In examining the persistence tier, I discovered that these methods are simply passing the unexamined CatalogInfo into the one utility-tier method which happens to demand it.

In examining that single method, I discovered that it does nothing but check the CatalogInfo’s integer-valued Type property to ensure that it is not negative. I also discovered that this method was authored by the young man bearing my trunk.

Please ensure that he receives my explanation in a suitable manner.