A response to the Economist's Schumpeter column: "The old saw about power corrupting has been laboriously confirmed by academic studies of everything from risk-taking to cookie-eating (powerful people are more likely to eat with their mouths open and to scatter crumbs over their faces)."
Sid's aide entered the Oval Office holding an android tablet. Her white blouse covered her too-thin frame, extending halfway down her forearms covering most of her corporate sponsor's tattoo except for the red 'e' at the bottom. It must not be a special day. She looked pointedly at his chin and tapped her own. He combed at the blue fur on the side of his face and then shook his head in wide angles when she shook her head no. "Well, never mind. We know what got me here." Sid picked up another chocolate chip cookie -- the only thing he'd eat now that he got his say -- and threw it in his mouth. "Chocolate chip. My favorite. Om nom-nom-nom." Sid glared at the aide. "You're interrupting lunch."
"Our search engines have completed your daily brief --"
"I'll read it after lunch and my nap, like usual."
"It's important." She looked away, at the carpets, at the walls, meeting his googly eyes seventy-three percent of the time. "Kim Jong-un has led forces across the demilitarized zone."
"Me want cookie."
"There's no time for that." The aide double-tapped the tablet and slid it across Sid's desk. "We must act now. Decisively."
A crumb fell out of Sid's fur, landing on the tablet. He glanced at the list of ten proposed actions -- out of about seventy-two million results. "Me eat cookie." Sid tossed a cookie into the air and it flipped end over end as it arched through the air to land in his unhinged mouth. The top action, most likely of success, was a counterattack deployment of their Marines. "Your search, no imagination." They had all those cloud computers, yet these were the actions they provided him.
"We must do something."
"Om nom-nom-nom. Me eat their armies."