Creationism Really Be Like

The agony of holiday science conversations captured in four painful panels! The relative confidently questions why space photos lack stars (a common conspiracy talking point), while the exhausted scientist tries explaining light pollution. When the relative doubles down with "light isn't a physical thing, it can't cause pollution," you can practically feel the scientist's soul leaving their body. Light pollution is actually the excessive artificial light that drowns out celestial objects in our night sky. But the real issue here is the space photos conspiracy theory - NASA images often use exposure settings optimized for their main subject (like the Moon or spacewalking astronauts), making stars too dim to capture. The same reason you can't see stars in daylight photos! The desperate "Auntie please" is the universal cry of scientists everywhere who just wanted to enjoy their turkey in peace.

Behold, the rare application of calendar science to streaming economics. Creating a Netflix account on February 29th (leap day) for a "free month" technically gives you a 4-year subscription since that specific date only appears once every four years. It's the temporal equivalent of finding a loophole in the universe's terms of service. Sadly, Netflix's algorithms are slightly more sophisticated than astronomical phenomena. Their definition of "month" doesn't rely on the return of a specific calendar date, but rather a 30-day countdown. Still, I appreciate the beautiful intersection of celestial mechanics and attempted subscription fraud.

Oh, the classic case of an astrophysicist let loose on undergrad math students. The first car represents the proper, textbook explanation of tangent bundles—a concept most math students already find terrifying. But then our starry-eyed professor decides to "simplify" with his astrophysics analogy: "a vector transforms like a vector." Profound! Revolutionary! Completely unhelpful! This is exactly why math departments hide when they see physicists approaching with that "I could teach this better" gleam in their eyes. The students' tuition doesn't cover the therapy they'll need after this explanation.

The eternal struggle of the stargazer! Homer perfectly captures that moment when you're obsessed with the cosmos but can't handle basic algebra. You know, the type who can name every moon of Jupiter but panics when they see "solve for x." The irony is delicious—dreaming about black holes while being swallowed by the black hole of high school math. The universe is calling, but sadly, physics class is calling back with a pop quiz!

Behold! The eternal cosmic struggle between doing the bare minimum and going absolutely bonkers with it! On the left, we have the minimalist astronaut—elegant, streamlined, no unnecessary movements, probably thinking "I'll just float here and complete my mission without any theatrics, thank you very much." Meanwhile on the right, the maximalist space explorer is practically having a zero-gravity rave with ALL the equipment, lights, and cables like "WITNESS ME IN SPACE!!!" This is basically every group project where one person does the bare minimum while the other makes a Broadway production out of it. The universe doesn't judge... but the mission control team definitely has opinions!

The scientific community's equivalent of fighting words: ranking sci-fi films by physics accuracy. The bottom panel shows Arthur's clenched fist—the universal symbol for "I respectfully disagree with your assessment of black hole depictions in cinema." Nothing triggers physicists more than seeing Interstellar (with its Kip Thorne-consulted black hole) ranked below Contact . That's like saying you prefer your equations without constants of integration. Unforgivable.