The Numbers of Mathematicians Have Been Increasing
Have you noticed that after Death pays a visit, you find yourself entangled in irresistible, life-affirming acts? Such as, say, throwing yourself in an undeniably intimate manner at your loved one. Taking home a stray iguana after it makes goo-goo eyes at you. Chortling instead of groaning over bad puns. Me too.
This amusing piece by my brainiac friend Roger, a.k.a. A Very Funny Guy (AVFG) is just what the doctor ordered, and this patient needed. Want to chuckle? Read on. No worries if you're not a math head. Trust me, you'll get the really bad puns and double entendres. If you're paying attention. he he he
The Numbers of Mathematicians Have Been Increasing
A Guest Post By Roger Lambert
According to the Mathematical Association of America (MAA), the numbers of mathematicians have been increasing exponentially. While such growth may be surprising to the layperson, perceiving the difficulty of most mathematicians to carry on a normal conversation, let alone meet and woo fertile mates, the unexpected result is nevertheless being defended as highly significant by the Association.
“We may not know why the numbers of mathematicians are multiplying,” said Professor Pascal LeFermat, the current president of the MAA, speaking from behind a magnificent mahogany desk in his sunny bookcase-lined office, “ but I'm willing to wager that you won't find the answer in the margins of a Greek text on arithmetic.”
Personally, this writer is inclined to believe that the numbers claimed by the MAA are imaginary at best, perhaps irrational, and that the true figures are likely mere fractions of those claimed by Dr. Pascal LeFermat, who, standing now on a large and deeply-carved Persian rug, his voice resonant in his paneled office, declared, “The numbers of mathematicians have been not only increasing logarithmically, but at such a rate as to be incalculable. To the point of getting underfoot!"
He slipped into the practiced poise of the professional pedant, "You see, the equation has changed. It used to be that we could keep our polynomials en pointe, and our permutations permanently partitioned. " More animated now, his lengthening strides carry him to the end of the high-ceilinged room. “But...no more. Just keeping the numerals on the page, is like...like herding cats! The numbers we use— the very numerals, man! They're... they're... out of control."
He ran his hands through his long hair, as if to comb it. "Leave a simple polynomial on your desktop for more than five minutes, and you won't even recognize it when you get back from the men's room. Look here. I'll prove it to you!"
Professor Pascal LeFermat sketched out the formula for the volume of a cylinder on his blackboard:
V = pr2 h
And we popped down to the faculty lounge for a quick cup of coffee. Sure enough, when we got back to his office— and I saw him lock the door myself— what we found on his blackboard staring back at us with the cold calculation of a crocodile showing exactly half of its innumerable teeth was the following:
“It's a problem presently without a solution,” said LeFermat, turning toward me. “And the more calculations we do to solve it, the more we... exacerbate the problem, do you see? Thank heavens we will soon have even more qualified mathematicians to put to use!”
He sighed, as a stray Sigma wobbled a bit and then gently wafted to the floor, squeaking softly as it scampered to hide in a dark recess behind the door.
When asked if he felt that more mathematicians writing ever more calculations was the wisest approach under the conditions, Dr. Pascal LeFermat became quite still, an introspective look on his face. “Well, I do think it is the only response available to us at this point. But, to be honest with you, we can't be sure. In fact, in the ranks, you know, I must tell you - it is causing, a lot of ...well... a lot of... division.”
Photo credit: Jerrycharlotte Miller