Mr. R doesn’t always live in your house, but he’s there now. He comes in from the kitchen, where he’s making something. He hands you a thin book. “Hold onto that for a second, will you?”, he says, and he hurries back out.
A moment later, he returns and reaches for the book, thanking you. Back to the kitchen he goes.
Another minute passes. “Here’s another one,” he says. “You can read it if you like.” It’s a joke. You’ve looked at the books before. They are full of 0s and 1s, not good reading.
He slips out again, then returns in a rush, bringing another book to place on top of the one you’ve got. “Just for a little bit,” he says.
This time it is a few moments before he returns. You are expecting him to take a book, but he’s brought another one. “Hang onto this, please.” He adds the book to the small pile building up in your hands. Such a polite guy.
He’s back almost as soon as he’s gone through the door. “Hang onto this, please,” he says, again. Strange, he said it exactly the same way.
It happens again. “Hang onto this, please.” The little pile of books is getting bigger.
“Hang onto this, please.” It’s very odd. His manner doesn’t change, he just keeps coming back with more thin books. He doesn’t seem to notice that you are starting to struggle to hold them all. He usually takes them back rather quickly.
“Hang onto this, please.” He isn’t stopping. The pile is much too high. One more book and the whole thing gets to be too much. The little books go crashing to the ground.
Stack overflow.
Recursive functions have their weaknesses.