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Boss: The second option feels right. Let's go with that. Dilbert: Should we always ignore what the data says, or is this more of a one-time thing? Boss: It's call intuition. Dilbert: It's a slippery slope to witchcraft.
Woman: Wally, I need your data for my meeting in three days. Wally: Okay. It shouldn't take more than three or four days to pull it together. Woman: Not three or four days. I need it in three days. Wally: Okay. Three days. Not counting the weekend and the day I give it to you. Woman: That would be six days! Wally: Six or seven days. Tops. Woman: I need it in three days, not a week. Wally: That's no problem. A week or two at the most. Woman: Okay! You win! I'll reschedule my meeting for two weeks out! And you'll have the data in two weeks? Wally: Yes. Two weeks or so.
Coworker: I put the data on a Flash drive for you. Dilbert: Get that thing away from me. I don't know where it's been. Coworker: I hope you mean the Flash drive and not my hand. Dilbert: I did. But you raise a good point about the hand.
Carol: I manually entered all of the employee data you wanted. It took the entire weekend. Boss: I probably should have told you I no longer need it. Carol: Die! Die! Die! You inconsiderate monster! Boss: Did you really enter all of the data? Carol: Maybe. Let's call it a tie.
I.T. person: I moved our email servers to my ancestral home of Transylbonia to reduce expenses. You might have heard rumors that all Transylbonians are data vampires, but I assure you it's an exaggeration. There's this one guy, Doug..." Transylbonian: Dude! It's fiber-optic! Doug: It's really not my thing.
Coworker: Please tell me our apps don't steal contact information from our users' address books. Boss: We upload the data but we don't store it. Coworker: That's like saying I can date your wife if I put a bag over her head. Boss: That could work. Coworker: I don't think I'm getting through to you.
Catbert: Ted, have you seen the Tupac video where he performs as a hologram? We've decided to do the same thing with all of our employees. We're going to move your data to the cloud. Ted: Tupac is dead. Catbert: I think you mean economical.
A large man enters Dilbert's cubicle and says, "Yo, Dilbert, give me your lunch money or I'll erase your data diskettes." Dilbert replies, "Touch my data and I'll erase any mention of you from the main payroll computer." Beads of sweat flies from the man's head and he says, "No . . . Please, I'm sorry." Dilbert turns toward the reader and says, "Nothing is more pathetic than an aging school bully." The man says, "I took shop; I can make you some nice bookends."
Dilbert sits at a conference table with three people from marketing. A woman says, "Maybe Dilbert can explain to the marketing people how the system works." Dilbert thinks, "Uh-oh." Dilbert says, "Uh . . . So the electrons alter the data bits . . . And then they go to the virtual array where they conflugalize. Got it?" The woman asks, "How many of those words did you just make up?" Dilbert thinks, "They're on to me."
A man stands in front of Dogbert's desk and says, "We don't need any of your 'intuition' mumbo jumbo. We need quantitative data!" The man continues, "The only way to make decisions is to pull numbers out of the air, call them 'assumptions,' and calculate the net present value." The man continues, "Of course, you have to use the right discount rate, otherwise it's meaningless." Dogbert says, "Go away."