f.lux — a review
Hi,
I’m a system administrator, my name is Tessa.
I’m uninstalling the application because I’ve never been able to get f.lux to run for any length of time without erratic behavior.

I’m a bit uncomfortable with how the user is expected to accept that it’s a problem with their computer if flickering occurs.
Isn’t f.lux willing to take responsibility for long-reported issues?
A quick search query displays that this is a real problem for a lot of users.
Making the user accept that to be able to accurately report “screen flickering” as being part of why they uninstalled is problematic at best, but I digress.
Flickering is an understatement, it would run through the filter colour range repeatedly, inundating my eyes with rapidly shifting orange-to-blue-to-orange again hues.
Inability to reliably turn it off (for gaming, or if I needed to verify colours without the filter, etc) was also a problem. I’d toggle it off, nothing would happen, then toggling it on would shut the filter off…for a few seconds.
Then, sometimes toggling it would result in flickering and hue changes that persisted after reboot. And then, I noticed that an OS update had added a native “night mode” to my system. So, I attempted to uninstall the f.lux app.
The option was greyed out, so I switched the system into safe mode. Suddenly, my mouse cursor was being made transparent, and chunks of the screen were displaying photos of my pets in my home, with yellow-orange shapes dripping down the screen, almost seeming to reach for their faces.
Unplugging the system seemed best at this point, so I flipped the toggle on the power strip. Literally nothing happened aside from the click. I grabbed my multimeter and started debugging it. Everything up to the power supply was nominal, less than a millivolt.
I removed the system’s PSU cable, watching the fans continue to spin inside the unit, lit by the blue of the case lighting.
Inside, I could see the blades of the power supply’s socket, within easy reach of my probing.
My multimeter is a charred mess.
The wires momentarily got hot enough to slough their plastic sheathes like mouldy paper under a faucet, before one of them parted, and the electrical arc bridged from the edge of the case, to the frame of my desk, through the meter, and back to the power supply.
I called my priest, and scheduled my workstation for an exorcism.
After the call, I noticed a hint of pink-orange creeping across the display of my smartphone.
A systemic check of the office revealed the laptop and one of the tablets were also showing signs of the f.lux. The only device that wasn’t showing signs was the tablet that was switched off, but the air near it *felt* pink.
It was unsettling to say the least.
Even the router’s status LCD puck had an orange-yellow hue.
I’m a software developer, and I have no idea how to write something that could jump air gaps and infect unrelated operating systems.
I thanked the priest as they left, and made the call to the curse breaker they’d recommended.
The session had almost cleaned out my savings, after having to replace two <redacted> phials of <redacted> that were used as a last resort when it had cornered us in the utility closet.
It had been three hours of the workshop slowly tinging pink, and the priest breaking out bigger and badder artifacts, while we navigated an increasingly non-euclidean workshop interior. Three rings from pharaohs, and one from a pope who knew the big J, a tuque from some djinn, and a sandal from some dude named Job supposedly, although that may have been a fake, I was told.
It was absolutely wild to see this professional work.
10/10, would work with Mr. Dresden again.
Anyway, long story short, there’s apparently a curse that can make graphics software act as a gateways for other realms? Something about the origins of DNS and accidental routing discoveries in the early ‘90s? The curse cleaver, as I learned they prefer to be called, was in and out in less than fifteen minutes, and they said the urge to drink red liquids will pass.
Mmmm, beet juice.
Overall, I’m pleased with f.lux pre-uninstall-attempt, although I’ll not be recommending the app to my friends, because having a native OS option generally means fewer tech support calls for me to field. That said, I’ll be happily recommending it to all my enemies, and I’ll be dropping it in conversation with the villain in the next county over with whom I occasionally monologue.
And, hopefully obviously, past the uninstall nothing averse happened, so my workstation is fine.
It could have been so much worse though, right?
Exorcisms are *expensive*, especially that <redacted> bit!
tl;dr — I switched to the built-in night mode that my OS now offers, thanks for all the fish.
P.S.
You probably need a better QA process.
And possibly a thorough documentation and audit of your build pipeline.