The Jacobian Identity Crisis

The mathematical tragedy where 60.6% of people think -3² = 9 instead of -9. Order of operations isn't a popularity contest, folks. This is why peer review exists – to save us from ourselves. In mathematics, the negative sign applies after the exponent, so -3² means -(3²) = -(9) = -9. But hey, at least democracy works great for choosing pizza toppings... just not for evaluating mathematical expressions.

The mathematical mic drop we didn't know we needed! The gray figure confidently declares "1 isn't prime" only to be challenged with "name all prime factors of 1 then." The silence in panels 3-4 is deafening . For the curious nerds: 1 is indeed not prime by definition (a prime number must have exactly two distinct factors: 1 and itself). But 1 has... wait for it... zero prime factors! It's the mathematical equivalent of bringing a calculator to a knife fight, then realizing you forgot the batteries.

The eternal struggle between math students and their teachers! Poor guy just wants to use π as a variable, but his teacher's having none of it. What he doesn't realize is that mathematicians have an unspoken agreement: π is sacred territory, reserved exclusively for that magical 3.14159... ratio. Using π as a variable would be like putting ketchup on a fine steak—technically possible but morally reprehensible. And that correction from "letter" to "glyph" is the chef's kiss of mathematical pedantry. Next time, just use x like a normal person and save yourself the drama!

That face you make when someone redundantly explains inverse proportionality by... describing inverse proportionality. It's like saying "water is wet because it has the property of wetness." Mathematical tautologies make mathematicians die inside a little. Next they'll tell me that parallel lines never meet because they maintain constant distance from each other. Revolutionary insight! I'm just sitting here wondering if they also know that circles are round.

This is what happens when mathematicians take "show your work" too literally. That horrifying explosion of e's and integrals is the mathematical equivalent of taking a sledgehammer to crack a walnut. The person created this absurdly complex expression using Euler's number (e) that somehow—through mathematical sorcery or sheer dumb luck—equals π to 10 decimal places. It's like watching someone build an entire Rube Goldberg machine just to flip a light switch. The "Bad Math" label is the chef's kiss of self-awareness. This is the kind of thing that makes calculus professors wake up in cold sweats.

Mathematicians live in their beautiful world of abstract concepts until someone dares ask "but what's this used for in real life?" Then comes the existential crisis vomit. They've spent hours deriving elegant proofs about n-dimensional manifolds only to struggle explaining why anyone should care. "Well, um, you could... calculate the optimal... something?" Pure mathematicians would rather prove the existence of 11 dimensions than provide one practical example that normal humans understand.