Monday, April 16, 2018
Birthday Inventory
-Yet another, hey?
-I’m losing count.
-Speaking of count in your
no-account life…?
-Did I take inventory this year?
-Come up with negative total?
-Almost. Hafta recheck math.
-Get Boxxo! Our genius!
-Life is too short for Lecture-Demonstrations instead of
Hello, how are you?
Hello, how are you?
-Ah but you inspired him this year. He did his own inventory on his birthday!
-The result?
-Plural. And incomprehensible. Whole page of squiggles and wrinkles.
-Any spaces? They say that true wisdom
is in the spaces.
-Not one.
-I’m glad to be a dope that nobody understands either, rather than a genius who’s a total pain in the ass.
-Neither one of you can get a girl.
-Which speaks to the wisdom of women.
-Also their hilarity at abstraction.
-How’d they get so concrete?
-From seeing shit.
Labels: abstraction, genius, math, math genius
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
Hers is the world and all that’s in it
Number
Our Shellzy got a number.
DF, or Defunct Professor, claims
that she's already famous, but
this should do it.
The number is expressed in a
formula few can begin to grasp.
Last week she went to Princeton,
and people flew in from Japan.
All this for one unexpected property
her number seems to have. Or not.
It's, of course, so incredibly large
that you'd think all kinds of elements
in there.
She's taking a break from it, down
to Cocoa Beach to help her sister prepare
children for new schools.
Her health will depart if she doesn't
shoulder different things.
But, once that's done, a visit to Florida
Tech in Melbourne, their largest computer.
After, a few anointed NASA people wish
to chat.
Ben, our Ben, who struggles with the figures
in his bank statement, desperately wants us
to retain her womanly properties.
But DF shrugs that we lost her long ago.
Labels: fame, Family, friendship, genius, isolation, math genius, Woman, woman scientist
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Walking With Genius
...and other colossal wastes
-I don’t get Math.
-Who could?
-Why always expect me to?
-Well...they do pay us to profess it.
-How could I profess anything? I’d feel
ridiculous.
-Uh...moving right along, what is working
on you now?
-I don’t know.
-That late a stage! I’m impressed.
-A month to polish and...
-Will I hafta hear you’re the Genius of the
Age again?
-Hope not. People come and ask questions.
It’s all so stupid!
-How public! Like a frog! Will they ask why
you’re not wearing socks?
-They stink even before you put them on!
-Uh huh? Your Carly-Ann is obviously at the
same Weekend For Bossy Broads as my
Jensy. She’ll soon announce her presence,
and where the sock drawer is.
-Announce! They’re both Announcers!
-Thank God for it! The quiet is rancid in
my place.
-Quiet is gold!
-Yeah, for idiot misers such as you. By the
bye? November? Cold? No jacket?
-Jackets are for forgetting.
-What’s next for you after the inevitable trophy?
-Absurdity.
-That’s for everyone.
-No, there’s a math to feel around in there.
-Rotza Ruck! Here...as I lean fatly forward and
fetch a rock. Expense of breath! Anyway, premature prize for you!
-I’ll treasure! Put it on my mantel.
-Because of the angle, no one will see it.
-I’ll prop atop one of the whatchacallits.
-Good! Whatchacallits rule! Maybe we should...
partner in this latest nonsense?
-I don’t think so.
-Mother never taught to share?
-Never taught anything.
-And Father?
-Abstracted.
-No wonder you’re a genius. You’re unlearned!
Labels: abstract, abstracted, academic, awards, famous, genius, math, math genius, prizes
