Science and Math

Astronomers are very eager to tell you how big the universe is. I have an astronomer friend who's like that. We were at an ihop the other day, and he poured some salt on his hand and told me, "I don't think you realize how big the universe is. If this grain of salt were the earth, then our solar system would be the size of a Wal-Mart, and the universe would be the size of 700 trillion Sam's Clubs." And then of course, I replied, "Can you pass the syrup?" I'm actually really into astronomy. It's a fantastic science. Because it makes you think. When I look up at the night sky and see the moon and a bunch of distant stars, I think, "Man! Al Pacino is a really good actor! But don't ever take sides with anyone against the family again." And when I watch the sun set, I think, "Where did I park my car?" And when I look at Saturn's rings with a telescope, I think, "The molecular transmindingeries of the electromagnetic field is hypertentuated by the gaseous formative rhesus mindicle of the hypothermeatic proton accumulative dust formation. And also, Obama is a Muslim." Nowadays, we're so far removed form nature, that we hardly even knwo what it is anymore. When people live in the city all their lives, and then they go camping and look at a night sky filled with ten thousand stars, they feel like the the universe went haywire. They get the urge to restart their computers. They call up Apple tech support and say, "The big screen in the sky is all starry and shit. What should I do? Should I reset my iPhone?" [Alternate: "The big screen in the sky is all starry and shit. What should I do?" And then the tech support guy says, "You need to reset your iPhone, pack up your tent, and drive back to your apartment." Nowadays, if you have an interest in nature, people act like you're some weirdo who's into a fantasy world. "Dude--why are you standing near a lake and getting fresh air? Go into a building, take out your iPhone, and use it to go to Facebook--like a normal person, you fresh-air-breathing lunatic." When people think of nature, they think of some kind of harmony. I don't. Whenever I'm out in nature, I sense a lot of racial tension--like I'm in a prison yard. I can practically hear the clouds say, "What the fuck are you looking at,

grass? You green piece of shit." And the sky tells the clouds, "What are you doing here, you white sons of bitches? You better rain yourselves down. This isn't your turf." I also sometimes hear the rocks say, "Ashton Kutcher is an alien from Saturn's fourth moon, and he's stealing the Monterey Jack cheese in your refrigerator." But the point is, I study nature, and I'm a schizophrenic. When I'm outside, I like to study the behavior of ants. Why is it that they always walk back and forth together? How did they settle on that? "Guys--this is what we're going to do. We're going to walk. Together. In a trail. A lot. All day. Every day. Non stop. Jose--you go first. Bob--you'll follow Jose. And Salvatore--you'll walk in the opposite direction." A lot of people analyze things like that from the perspective of the theory of evolution. It's based on ideas in Charles Darwin's 1859 book On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life, and How I Lost Four Pounds in Five Days on the Low Glycemic Mediterranean Fat Flush Diet. Here's what the book says: "All living things on this planet--from human beings all the way to plants and even bacteria--are at least your one trillionth cousins. We're all part of the same family tree. Except for that lunatic Tom Cruise. And over the years, we branched out into all of the species on earth today, as well as all of the extinct ones. But we don't actually see species branching off into new ones. Why? Well, let me use an analogy. If Jim Smith takes one step east each day in Los Angeles, and then Jim Smith, Jr. is born, and he takes a step east each day, and then Jim Smith III, IV, V, etc. do the same thing, then what'll happen over time? Jim Smith the 100th will drown in the in the Atlantic Ocean. Actually, let's stop the analogy at New York and Jim the Smith the 99th. One step a day, and the Smith family will make it from LA to New York in 99 generations. Species of living things tend to change the same way. Over a little time, not much happens. A watermelon seed doens't grow into a fish. But over lots and lots of generations, an amoeba will become some frat boy puking into a toilet. But what shapes and guides the changes? Well, sometimes living things have qualities that help them survive and produce more offspring. If, say, dark skin helps humans survive and have more children, then over time, the world will end up with mostly really dark skinned people, and it'll look like a Wesley Snipes family reunion. But it's more complex than that--because the world has different and changing environments. In one place, dark skinned people might survive and have more children; while in another place, light skinned people might do so. A 1000 BC Las Vegas desert favors people who can bear hot

weather, a 1000 BC Canadian village favors people who can bear cold weather, a 2000 AD Las Vegas casino favors people who can count cards, and a 2000 AD Canadian university favors people who can chug beer. The world also has barriers that close up one environment from other ones. If a river separates 50 cats in the cold, mountainous north from another 50 cats in the hot, plantfilled south, then over time, as the generations pass, those two groups of cats might change in much different ways, and branch off into two different species. In other words, the world is sort of like a bunch of clubs. Most people are born in one, and can never be let out of it and into a new one. And each club only lets certain types of people to survive. (And you thought clubs in Harlem were violent.) In one club, only high jumpers live. But in another club, only people in disco suits live. I like biscuits. The End." The most accomplished scientist of all time is Isaac Newton. He was standing outside one day, and he happened to notice an apple drop from a tree. And then he looked up at the sky and thought, "What if the force that pulled that apple down is the same force that moves planets and moons?" And that led to him saying, "Al Pacino is a really good actor." And he also said, "All things pull other things--and the bigger and closer the things, the stronger the pull. I learned all of that from an apple. Where the hell did I park my car?" Newton also figured out a lot of other things. Like "force equals mass times acceleration," "for every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction," "pressing an elevator button more than once won't make it come any faster," "women like buying shoes," and, "I parked my car in E4." Newton was also very into math. In his scientific notes, he'd often do math problems in the margins for no especially good reason. When he was in school, he was always disappointed in how little math homework the teacher assigned him. And that led to him inventing calculus. He turned in his calculus homework one day, and his teacher said, "Um... I didn't assign any calculus homework yesterday. By the way--what the hell is calculus? And where did I park my car?" Trigonometry, on the other hand, was invented by Steve Jobs, Paul Bunyan, and the Shamwow guy. What's the deal with trigonometry? After learning it, I figured the real world would contain a lot of triangles. For a while, I kept on thinking, "Any day now, I'm going to come across some triangles and put this trigonometry to good

use. I got my scientific calculator. Sine, cosine, tangent, etc. Bring on the triangles. Let's do this." But the world isn't as triangular as I expected. There are plenty of circles. Like wheels, Big Macs, and the sun. And there are plenty of rectangles. Like walls, paintings, and ice cream sandwiches. But there aren't that many triangles. Trigonometry classes don't really mention that. They should tell you on day one, "We're going to spend the next several months studying triangles. By the way--99.99% of the world is non-triangular." Jerry Seinfeld doesn't have any trigonometry jokes. I do. I'm pretty sure that means I'm the superior comedian. Where's my TV show? I'm gonna call NBC and pitch my idea. "It's a sitcom based on my trigonometrical observational humor. I call the show Tangent-feld. Not Cosine-feld or Sine-feld. I'm above doing puns like that." One of the hardest types of math is time zone math. It somehow manages to confuse almost everyone. "It's 11:34 AM here. What time is it in Rome? There's a nine hour difference. I might have to make an am pm conversion. Wait--do I add nine hours, or subtract nine hours? Well, New York is east of us--and it's 3 hours ahead. And Rome is also east of us. But Rome is also west of us if you sail the other way in the Santa Maria. But it's closer when you go east--because the sun sets in the west, the Tropic of Cancer runs north and south, Columbus was left handed, Benico del Toro is a Capricorn, and Vasco da Gama ordered a Burger King BK Bacon Burger with fries and a Dr. Pepper. So if it's 11:34 AM here, I have to go nine hours east in the Pinta, cross the am-pm line, carry the 12, recalibrate my watch for daylight savings time, adjust my zip code counterclockwise for Groundhog Day on Leap Year, and convert my dollars to East Nigerian Deutschmarks. And that makes it 12:62 PM next Tuesday in Rome, plus tax, no purchase necessary, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of two all beef patties, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, and onions, can you tell me how to get Sesame Street?" What's the deal with division? I think it's one of those unnecessary operations. It has no use. Mathematicians just invented it to show off. "Look. We can do division. Look at us. 9 divided by 3. Equals 3. This is some serious stuff. Math."

Isn't it interesting how 4 follows 3? That's very convenient. It makes math easy. It's nice how all of the numbers ended up in order. What if 4 were before 3, and after 5? That would make it really difficult to add 345 to 534. You'd have to change your transmission fluid, and convert your East Nigerian Deutschmarks to Chinese pesos. Some students get creative on math tests. For instance, when they come across the problem "123 + 897" they put down the answer, "Yes. Those are numbers." Those are my math jokes. I perform them in clubs, right after my "white people are like this, black people are like that" material. If you don't have jokes on math, you're not a real comedian. What exactly was Abraham Lincoln thinking when he opened his speech with "Four score and seven years ago," instead of just saying "87 years ago?" Who the hell looks at a number like 87, and thinks, "87? No. Four score and seven." How come Lincoln decided to express that number in a combination of score and years, and make everyone do unnecessary math? Is that what people did back then in everyday life? "What can I get you?" "I'll have three score, two dozen, and seven jelly donuts. You figure that shit out." In the 1800s, you had to have a math degree just to work at a donut shop.

College
In the 1940s, people were very impressed by anyone who had a college degree. "You have a college degree?! Alright! You can have a job at my company, and eat the leftover meatloaf in my refrigerator, and marry my daughter, and slap my wife in the face." But nowadays, it's, "You have a college degree? Great. Anyways, like I was saying--I'll have a Big Mac and Dr. Pepper." [College Graduate / Fast Food Employee:] "Speaking of Dr. Pepper, I have a doctorate degree." [Customer:] "Good. Maybe you can check my cholesterol tomorrow, and then give yourself a prostate exam. But right now, I need you to get my Big Mac and Dr. Pepper. OK, Dr.?" I don't have a college degree. And here's the main reason why: Because I don't like to just read what someone tells me to read, and accept everything I read as true. That's 90% of a college education. When I read, I take a different

approach. Instead of reading what some professor says I should read, I read what I really should read. And instead of just reading a book, I tell it what's what. I mean, who the hell is some book to tell me "this is the case," "you should do this," etc.? Freaking books. Sometimes I light them on fire. And when I do read them, I spend two hours on one page. Because I have commentary. I don't just accept things. If I just accept things, I can finish a book in a few hours. But the way I do it, one book, one year. So I don't really finish books. Because finishing books is ridiculous. Don't finish books. And don't just accept what they're telling you. Tell them what's what. By the way, my books are an exception. You can't disagree with them. They tell you what's what, and you just shut your mouth and read. Because I know what I'm talking about. Read my books. And accept everything that's in them. But here's the main issue I want to bring up. What makes a person truly educated? If you know who the Senate Majority Leader is, and Jim from Louisiana doesn't know who the Vice President is, does that mean you're educated, and Jim isn't? No. It means you're a conceited, arrogant piece of shit. You know that the Senate Majority Leader is Harry Reid? (I just looked that up.) Congratulations! What are you gonna do with that information? Are you gonna play backgammon with Senator Reid, or invite him to your son's bar-mitzvah? And before you pat yourself on the back for your extensive knowledge of the Senate Majority Leader's name, let's not forget that you're the same person who's seen 50 episodes of a TV show like Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Jim from Louisiana doesn't watch any shows like that. And he raises hogs and grows tabasco peppers. He knows how to manage 300 pigs and 30 acres of peppers, and you know that Harry Reid is a white Democrat who wears a suit and tie, and Kim is upset with Khourtney because of what she said about what Khloe said about Kanye. That's what you know. Good for you. I should light your college degree on fire, and make you sleep in a pig pen.