At the center of the temple was a mysterious growing singularity, a
   blinding sphere about two hundred feet across.  Devout workers near the
   singularity wore welding masks, to protect their minds from the
   patterns of synaptic plasticity timing it constantly emitted.
   Huge, writhing processes extended from the singularity, extending
   through and moving with objects and people they came into contact with.
   As one, everyone would chant.  "Data.  Train.  Test.  Improve.  Data.
   Train.  Teat.  Improve."  The chanting resounded into the skies.