Thing is, I've been trying to find a moment to write down what happened to Bennett and me for a while now, but the demands of my audience rarely abate. I've hardly time to jot down a grocery list, let alone compose a personal chronicle. Bennett says I'm practically the Charles (as in Dickens) of scribblers devoted to mining the rich vein of a certain underappreciated sitcom of the nineteen-eighties, but I will leave that for history to judge. Besides, what does Bennett know? Just before he got that way, I was in Amok Mocha, where I like to sip cold brew and do my "C: FB" conjuring, and I struck up a conversation with a young woman who confessed to being a creative-writing student. She told me that in her workshop they talk about the "occasion" of the story. Why is the narrator telling this tale now? What pressures or conditions have coalesced to move a person to speak? I feigned ignorance of the concept, though I'd heard it often in my own writing classes long ago. Instead, I told her that, if the installment I was presently crafting flowed from any occasion, it was this: Charles is anxious about the imminent disintegration of the universe via the ever-increasing tug of dark matter. Moreover, he's ticked off that his best buddy, Buddy, doesn't seem perturbed by the prospect. "How imminent?" the woman said, and sipped her Balkan, a new offering at Amok. When I informed her that he was the titular hero of "Charles in Charge," the most criminally uncelebrated television program of the Reagan era, the woman pursed her lips. "We all write fan fiction," I told her. "Some of us are just more honest about it." The young woman gathered up her belongings, moved to another table. Did she think I was being facetious? Still, if there is an occasion for the story I'm relating now, it's a bit nearer on the space-time continuum. My best buddy, Bennett, is in a vegetative state induced by an anoxic brain injury, and, if he doesn't wake up soon and vouch for me, I could be kicked out of our apartment.

The use of AI technologies is percolating into the secure development of software-based systems, with an increasing trend of composing AI-based subsystems (with uncertain levels of performance) into automated pipelines. This presents a fundamental research challenge and poses a serious threat to safety-critical domains (e.g., aviation). Despite the existing knowledge about uncertainty in risk analysis, no previous work has estimated the uncertainty of AI-augmented systems given the propagation of errors in the pipeline. We provide the formal underpinnings for capturing uncertainty propagation, develop a simulator to quantify uncertainty, and evaluate the simulation of propagating errors with two case studies. We discuss the generalizability of our approach and present policy implications and recommendations for aviation. Future work includes extending the approach and investigating the required metrics for validation in the aviation domain.

Donald Trump's former "fixer," Michael Cohen, used Google Bard to cite made-up legal cases that ended up in a federal court. The New York Times reported Friday that Cohen admitted in unsealed court papers that he passed on documents referencing bogus cases to his lawyer, who then relayed them to a federal judge. Cohen reportedly wrote in the sworn declaration he hadn't stayed on top of "emerging trends (and related risks) in legal technology." Cohen's legal team filed the paperwork in a motion asking for an early end to court supervision from his 2018 campaign finance case, for which he served three years in prison. After Cohen's attorney, David M. Schwartz, presented the legal documents to the federal court, Judge Jesse M. Furman of the Federal District Court said he was having trouble finding the three decisions cited by Schwartz (via Cohen).

It started not with a stroke of creative genius, but with a rain barrel that Mike Evans '99, MEng '00, wanted to install in his garden. Fourteen calls later, he still hadn't been able to hire anyone. He started researching the home maintenance sector and discovered that many US trade schools have closed in recent decades, creating a shortage of handypeople. That's how Fixer was born. "What it comes down to is there aren't enough people to do the work," says Evans, who founded Fixer in 2017.