It's Just LaTeX In The End

This mathematical masterpiece is what happens when you let engineers do math proofs after pulling an all-nighter! Starting with the completely "accurate" equation e = π = √g = 3, it proceeds through a series of increasingly ridiculous logical leaps to prove that π = 69 (and as a bonus lemma, π = 420). The beauty lies in how it parodies actual mathematical proofs with formal-sounding language while committing mathematical sins that would make your calculus professor spontaneously combust. From declaring that 9 = 10 to the circular reasoning proving 3 = n for any number, it's basically mathematical blasphemy wrapped in academic language. That final "QED" with expletives is the chef's kiss on this mathematical abomination. Pure genius for anyone who's ever suffered through writing rigorous proofs at 3 AM while questioning their life choices!

This meme perfectly captures the stark reality between different chemistry disciplines and their equipment needs. In Physical Chemistry, you're either characterizing "useless metal clusters" with minimal equipment or sobbing uncontrollably because you need to rebuild ancient experimental setups from dusty 70s journals. Meanwhile, Biological Chemistry bros are living their best lives with fancy Thermo Scientific equipment that costs more than your entire education. Want to sequence every protein in a hamster? No problem! Just swipe the lab credit card for that cool $2 million mass spec machine. The scientific equivalent of "my equipment budget brings all the boys to the yard."

The mathematical community has been trying to solve the Collatz Conjecture for decades, and this genius responds with a completely made-up expression featuring a mysterious symbol and says "trust me." It's the mathematical equivalent of "Source: Dude, just trust me." The beauty here is that mathematicians require rigorous proof for everything, but this person's solution is essentially "I've invented a symbol too complex to explain, but it definitely works!" Classic academic shitposting at its finest.

The mathematical evolution no one asked for but everyone needed. First panel: innocent Calc 1 student being introduced to the chain rule with the basic formula. Middle panel: the rigorous proof that makes students question their life choices. Final panel: the chad Applied Analysis enjoyer who's transcended formalities and just writes it as a ratio of differentials without breaking a sweat. Nothing says "I've suffered enough" like skipping all the epsilon-delta nonsense and getting straight to the point. The chain rule—traumatizing undergrads since calculus was invented.

What we're witnessing here is the desperate final stage of academic evolution - designing your own graduation cap in CAD software when you realize your degree might never materialize. Nothing says "I've mastered engineering" quite like creating a digital version of the very symbol you fear you'll never wear. The irony of spending hours perfecting a 3D model instead of finishing that thesis is *chef's kiss* pure academic self-sabotage. Twenty years teaching and I've seen students model everything from rocket engines to beer pong tables, but modeling your own graduation cap? That's next-level procrastination with a side of existential dread.

The classic trajectory of every engineering student's life. First comes the delusional confidence of high school physics—Newton's laws, basic circuits, maybe some kinematics—and suddenly you're planning to build rockets for NASA. Fast forward to university where differential equations are beating you senseless and you're desperately typing "how to solve Laplace transform at 3am" into YouTube. Those Indian educators explaining complex concepts with nothing but MS Paint and a $5 microphone have saved more engineering careers than all the textbooks combined. The Dunning-Kruger effect in its natural habitat—from "I'm basically Tony Stark" to "please explain like I'm five" in record time.