Inside the Haunted GitHub Repo That Only Says “E”

I was just exploring GitHub filters, playing around with random search queries —
something like pushed:<2020 language:python stars:>10000 — just looking for fun projects to get ideas from.

And then I fell into something that didn’t make sense:
a repo that only says “e.”
Thousands of times. In every language.

---

Act I — How it began: the strange repo I wasn’t supposed to find

One night, I was playing around with GitHub’s search filters — checking random languages, sorting by stars — basically just wasting time.

Then I saw something odd.
A repo where every file name was just “e”.

➡️Github Repo

e.py, ee.c, eeee.java, eeeeeeee.asm — it looked like my browser broke.
But it wasn’t a glitch.
I opened it… and my jaw dropped.

Every single file — in every programming language you can imagine — did one thing:
they printed the letter e.

Over and over. Forever.

Even the README just had a lonely little “e.”
There were PDFs full of “e.”
Images called eeeeeeee.jpeg (one of them was a chicken with a giant blue E).
And the .gitignore ignored every letter except “e.”

At first I laughed. Then I realized — this wasn’t random.
It was… organized chaos.
Like an art project that escaped its creator.

eeeeee?
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

---

Act II — The deeper I went, the stranger it got

I started opening the files one by one, and it turned into a full investigation.

There were hundreds of versions of “hello world” replaced with infinite “e.”
Different languages, same result.
But then I found a few that were… different.

• 2E.py — a file encoder that turns any data into a text of only E and e.
  

  • 1 becomes E, 0 becomes e.

• E2.py — the decoder, turning that mess of E’s back into the original file.

I tested it.
I encoded an image → got a wall of E’s.
Decoded it → got the same image back.

It worked perfectly.

It was like the repo had invented a new binary language —
a world where computers spoke only in E’s.

Binary → E → Binary.
Simple. Beautiful. Pointless. Perfect.

---

Act III — The math part: Euler’s ghost in the machine

Then I found e.e.py.
And that’s where things got creepy.

It used Euler’s number, e = 2.718281828...,
and for each digit, it printed that many e letters.

So 2.7 became:

ee
eeeeeee
eee
eeeeeeee
...

You run it, and your terminal fills slowly, endlessly — like a living heartbeat.
No breaks, no end. Just pure expansion.

It wasn’t just code. It was math turned into a chant.
A program that recited infinity.

Euler’s “e” represents natural growth — and this one grew forever.

---

Act IV — The endless machines: e.cpp, e.sh, e.sql

Then came the ones that made it feel haunted.

e.cpp was C++ rewritten entirely with #define macros named e, ee, eee…
When decoded, it was this:

#include <iostream>
using namespace std;

int main() {
    while (true) {
        cout << 'e';
        cerr << 'e';
    }
    return 0;
}

So yeah — it prints “e” forever, to both stdout and stderr.

e.sh did the same in shell:

yes e | tr -d '\n'

And e.sql?
A looping SQL procedure that keeps returning random lengths of “e.”

Even the database couldn’t escape the cult.

Each file was like an instrument in the same song —
an orchestra of infinite E’s.

---

Act V — When it ruled GitHub (and broke it)

In 2018, the repo exploded.
Developers joined in — adding their own versions in every language possible.
Conway’s Game of Life printing E’s.
Pull requests flooding in daily.
It became a meme, then a movement.

The repo hit GitHub Trending.
It even overtook Microsoft’s Chromium announcement.

And that’s when GitHub started to… break.

The trending emails glitched because of the long repo name.
UI elements froze. Support tickets piled up.

Eventually GitHub disabled it, calling it “abuse.”
The creator replied with the most perfect line ever:

“Please keep your e’s to a minimum, folks.
There are people trying to perform capitalism here.”

They archived it soon after.
But by then, it was already legend —
the repo that broke GitHub with a single letter.

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

---

Act VI — When chaos met its god: How To Write Unmaintainable Code

Long before “e,” there was another famous repo —
How To Write Unmaintainable Code by Roedy Green.

It’s a comedy classic — a guide on how to write code so confusing
that only you can understand it.
Misspell everything. Use random names. Hide globals.
Basically: job security through chaos.

But here’s the fun part.

Even that repo — the Bible of bad code —
would look at “e” and go,

“bro… what have you done.”

Because “e” doesn’t just confuse — it transcends confusion.

When everything is named the same, there’s nothing to misunderstand.
It’s beyond bad naming.
It’s a pure concept — a kind of art that makes even chaos look structured.

Unmaintainable Code says: “Make yourself irreplaceable.”
The e-repo replies: “Make yourself meaningless.”

Roedy’s book teaches how to hide logic.
The e-repo deletes it entirely.

That’s why even that ancient chaotic codex would bow down and whisper:
“eeee???”

---

Final Thoughts — the letter that became a legend

The repo started as a joke.
But it turned into something more — a digital myth.

It’s:

• A meme that broke a platform.
• A math joke that became performance art.
• A satire that outsmarted the guide to bad code.

And somehow, it all fits inside one letter.

If you ever find it, open a file, run it carefully —
watch your terminal fill with E’s,
and feel the quiet hum of the weirdest corner of the internet.

That’s the cult of E.
Once it ruled GitHub.
Now it just… echoes.

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.