Foolish Consistency

on February 9, 2015 in Fiction

No one wanted to be the one to deliver the bad news, so in the end it was left to everyone to do it. They printed out the report detailing the discrepancy and delivered it by hand to the deputy director’s desk, then once the content of the report had been read and—with visibly dawning horror—understood, every single clerk went along as the deputy director delivered it to the director.

The director’s face was unreadable, but the orders were unambiguous.

“Shut it down. Damn it all to hell. Shut the whole thing down.”

The internet had been an interesting experiment, one that had only gained in import after the creation of the world wide web. Hopes had been high that it would usher in a new era of human communication and understanding. Those hopes were now dashed. The experiment was over, and the result was an unquestionable failure.

How could anyone trust the impartiality of an information network that said that Surf Ninjas was both the funniest movie of the 1990s and flat, vapid, and unfunny? They couldn’t. No one could ask them to.

It had been a hell of a ride, but sometimes a thing is so broken it can’t be fixed.

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