Eigen Change Him

Someone turned a dating diagram into a hilarious physics joke! The original probably showed women all going for one guy, but our science hero "fixed it" by relabeling the top man as a "Terminal object in the category of people" and circling all the men as "Average guy." It's basically turned dating struggles into category theory! In mathematics, a terminal object is one that receives exactly one morphism from every object in the category. Translation: in this dating universe, everyone's apparently drawn to this one mathematical singularity of a person while everyone else is just... average. Dating problems solved with abstract algebra - because nothing says "I'm single" like understanding category theory!

This is calculus escalation at its finest! The first panel shows a cat calmly accepting the trivial identity dx/dx = 1. The second panel? Still cool with the chain rule simplification. But that third panel—where differential algebra goes completely bonkers with terms flying everywhere—triggers pure mathematical hysteria. It's like watching someone peacefully solving basic equations until suddenly they're thrown into the differential equation thunderdome. The perfect visualization of that moment when your professor says "this is just a simple application" and then writes something that looks like it summoned a math demon.

The mathematical gangsters have spoken! The Taylor series might look fancy with its arbitrary center point c , but real ones know the Maclaurin series is just Taylor centered at zero. It's like showing up to a party with your complicated friend who insists on giving directions from some random landmark instead of just saying "start from downtown." Pure mathematicians spend hours proving they're different, while applied mathematicians just substitute c =0 and get on with their lives. Next time someone tries to impress you with Taylor series, just hit 'em with "cool story, but my homies reduce to Maclaurin."

Your brain just did a double-take, didn't it? 999 ÷ 37 = 27 is mathematically correct, but it feels like numerical blasphemy. Those three 9s lined up so perfectly, begging to be something special—only to be rudely divisible by such a random number as 37. It's like finding out your favorite constellation is actually just a cosmic coincidence. The universe is trolling us with these mathematical plot twists that make perfect sense but feel so wrong. Next they'll tell us π ends somewhere!

Tom the cat is watching a parade of prime number chicks (31, 37, 41, 43, 47, 53) marching by, completely uninterested... until he spots 57 and his predator instincts kick in! Poor 57 - looking all prime-y but actually divisible by 3 and 19. It's the mathematical equivalent of a sheep in wolf's clothing! Mathematicians everywhere are cackling at their desks because YES, we've all been fooled by an impostor number at some point in our calculations. The struggle is REAL. 🔢

The joke here is absolutely brilliant! Euler's parents supposedly named him after "e" (approximately 2.71828), but that's mathematically impossible since Euler was born in 1707, and he's actually the one who discovered the constant "e" later in his career! It's like naming your kid after a number that doesn't exist yet. Time-traveling parents with mathematical foresight? Now that's some next-level parental planning! Mathematical historians are quietly having a breakdown in the corner.