In the Future, Maury Povich is In Charge by David Schwab

In the Future, Maury Povich is In Charge
David Schwab

…and so he asks: “How many bastards born today?”

                “Twenty-three per second, sir”. The host hung his head.
                “They brought Blue Eyes back: spit from his shot glass.”

“Can our network handle the load?”

               “It may stop running, it may not: no way to decide.”

“Can’t they spread it out?”

               “They’ve spread enough already: we’d risk packet injection, a virus, a bug.”

He heaves a heavy sigh. “Algorithms?”

               “They’ve lived too much for naive Bayes, but not enough for neural nets.”

“Nearest neighbor?”

               “Won’t converge: this much P is an NP problem.”

“Who’s waiting for the results?”

               “A small potentate, a pasha, and the Lindbergh baby.”
               A pregnant pause. “Spit from his sippy cup, sir.”

“So you’re saying we’re screwed.”

               “I’m 100% sure we can’t find the fathers.”

(a long sigh…)

“I wish GoogleDoc would abort.”

                “They tried. We asked them to try again.”

“And?”

               “Fail.”

In the Future, Maury Povich is In Charge by David Schwab 1

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