I’ve been paying close attention lately to the Predictive Text feature in my Gmail account. Often, it guesses quite well, suggesting the precisely right word to wrap up an exchange that need not go further.
But at other times, it’s just hilariously off the mark, offering absurd readymades that never cease to amuse me.* Here’s a recent favorite.
Each Friday, a poet-friend emails me — and an old-fashioned, hand-sewn email list of about 15 people — a line or two from his journal. This week, Predictive Text knew exactly what to (not) say in response:
*Or perhaps there’s sarcasm in the algorithm? Doubtful, but in that case, the joke’s on me.