Near the end of January I was pointed to a twitter thread where a Windows user with a powerful machine was hitting random hangs in explorer. Lots of unscientific theories were being proposed. I don’t generally do random analysis of strangers’ performance problems but the case sounded interesting so I thought I’d take a look.
The behavior of the Windows scheduler changed significantly in Windows 10 2004 (aka, the April 2020 version of Windows), in a way that will break a few applications, and there appears to have been no announcement, and the documentation has not been updated. This isn’t the first time this has happened, but this change seems bigger than last time. So far I have found three programs that hit problems because of this silent change.
This post was an accidental duplicate. The content has been deleted from this copy. You can find the (updated) original here.
WhatsApp has served me well as a communications medium for my family, but I was never thrilled with its ownership by Facebook, and the recently announced privacy changes made it necessary for me to move on.
I was inspired by the release of Apple’s M1 ARM processor to tweet about the perils of lock-free programming which led to some robust discussion. The discussion went pretty well given the inanity of trying to discuss something as complicated as CPU memory models in the constraints of tweets, but it still left me wanting to expand slightly on the topic in blog form.
This is intended to be a casual introduction to the perils of lock-free programming (which I last wrote about some fifteen years ago), but also some explanation of why ARM’s weak memory model breaks some code, and why that code was probably broken already. I also want to explain why C++11 made the lock-free situation strictly better (objections to the contrary notwithstanding).
A few years ago I did a lot of thinking and writing about floating-point math. It was good fun, and I learned a lot in the process, but sometimes I go a long time without actually using that hard-earned knowledge. So, I am always inordinately pleased when I end up working on a bug which requires some of that specialized knowledge. Here then is the third of (at least) three tales of floating-point bugs that I have investigated in Chromium (part one is here, part two is here). It’s another variant on precision problems when pushing the limits – maybe I just keep encountering the same floating-point bug?
In this post I’ll also cover some debugging techniques you can apply if you ever want to explore the Chromium source code or investigate a crash.
A few years ago I did a lot of thinking and writing about floating-point math. It was good fun, and I learned a lot in the process, but sometimes I go a long time without actually using that hard-earned knowledge. So, I am always inordinately pleased when I end up working on a bug which requires some of that specialized knowledge. Here then is the second of (at least) three tales of floating-point bugs that I have investigated in Chromium (part one is here, part three is here). And this time I actually fixed the bug, both in Chromium, and then in googletest so that future generations will be spared some confusion.
The behavior of the Windows scheduler changed significantly in Windows 10 2004 (aka, the April 2020 version of Windows), in a way that will break a few applications, and there appears to have been no announcement, and the documentation has not been updated. This isn’t the first time this has happened, but this change seems bigger than last time. So far I have found three programs that hit problems because of this silent change.
The short version is that calls to timeBeginPeriod from one process now affect other processes less than they used to. There is still an effect, and thread delays from Sleep and other functions may be less consistent than they used to be (see [updated] section below), but in general processes are no longer affected by other processes calling timeBeginPeriod.
A few years ago I did a lot of thinking and writing about floating-point math. It was good fun, and I learned a lot in the process, but sometimes I go a long time without actually using that hard-earned knowledge. So, I am always inordinately pleased when I end up working on a bug which requires some of that specialized knowledge. Here then is the first of (at least) three tales of floating-point bugs that I have investigated in Chromium (part two is here, part three is here). This is a short one.
I write a lot about investigations into tricky bugs – CPU defects, kernel bugs, transient 4-GB memory allocations – but most bugs are not that esoteric. Sometimes tracking down a bug is as simple as paying attention to server dashboards, spending a few minutes in a profiler, or looking at compiler warnings.
Here then are three significant bugs which I found and fixed which were sitting in the open, just waiting for somebody to notice.
In May 2019 I was asked to look at a potentially serious Chrome bug. I initially misdiagnosed it as unimportant, thus wasting two valuable weeks, and when I rejoined the investigation it was the number one browser-process crash in Chrome’s beta channel. Oops.
On June 6th, the same day I realized I had misinterpreted the crash data, the bug was marked as ReleaseBlock-Stable meaning that we couldn’t ship our new Chrome version to most of our users until we figured out what was going on.
The crash was happening because we were running out of GDI (Graphics Device Interface) objects, but we didn’t know what type of GDI objects, our crash data gave us no clues as to where the problem was happening, and we couldn’t reproduce the problem.
Several of us worked hard on the bug on June 6th and 7th, testing out theories but not making any clear progress. Then, on June 8th I went to check my email and Chrome immediately crashed. It was the crash.
