New Notation For Derivatives Just Dropped

The circular definition strikes again! Nothing quite like asking what a vector is and getting the mathematical equivalent of "it's a thing that's a thing." That confused Mike Wazowski face perfectly captures the existential crisis of every student encountering math definitions for the first time. The definition is technically correct—vectors are indeed elements of vector spaces—but it's about as helpful as defining water as "the wet stuff that makes things wet." This is why mathematicians shouldn't write dictionaries.

The ultimate academic cliffhanger. Pierre de Fermat smugly announces his "marvelous proof" for what would become his famous Last Theorem—then promptly exits the mortal realm before sharing it. For the next 358 years, mathematicians collectively lost sleep trying to figure out what this mathematical tease had discovered. The margin was apparently large enough for his boast but mysteriously insufficient for the actual proof. Classic mathematician move: drop a revolutionary claim, refuse to elaborate, die.

Behold the final boss of academic papers! Mathematicians don't just solve problems—they summon an entire arsenal of fancy transition words that make their proofs sound like ancient spells. "Hence," "thus," "a priori"... it's like they're casting incantations while making those little hand gestures of perfection! 🧙‍♂️ Next time you're reading a math paper and see "WLOG" (without loss of generality), just imagine the author doing this exact pose while typing it. And don't even get me started on "trivial"—nothing makes a math student panic faster than seeing an apparently obvious step that somehow requires seventeen dimensions and a PhD to understand!

Newton and Leibniz didn't invent calculus—they summoned it from the mathematical underworld. The proof? Just look at any student's face during finals week. Those aren't eye bags; they're manifestations of differential trauma. The only people who claim calculus "can't hurt you" are the same ones who think integration by parts is "fun." Meanwhile, Excel sits there smugly with its pre-calculated functions, whispering sweet nothings like "let me handle that for you" while calculus demands you derive the universe from first principles using only chalk and tears.

Behold the magnificent intersection of geometry and temperature units! When the offspring complains of being cold, the paternal unit deploys a classic angular pun. The corner is indeed 90 degrees—a perfect right angle in Euclidean geometry—while completely ignoring the Celsius/Fahrenheit distinction that would actually solve the thermal discomfort. The mathematical precision combined with complete practical uselessness is peak dad energy. Scientists would call this a prime example of Paternalis humoris , a condition affecting approximately 99.7% of fathers worldwide.

Physics students having an existential meltdown when told they suck at math, while engineering students just casually nodding in agreement is the most accurate representation of academic hierarchy I've ever seen. Physics majors spend years convincing themselves they're mathematical geniuses only to have their identity shattered by a single insult. Meanwhile, engineers already embraced their mathematical mediocrity and built entire bridges with it. The stoic "We know" is engineering in a nutshell—practical enough to admit their limitations and still confident enough to design nuclear reactors. That's not imposter syndrome, that's self-awareness!