Nuclear Conversions Suck

Physics students in the first week vs. physics students during finals week. The left shows the blissful ignorance of someone who thinks kinematics equations are just cute little formulas to memorize. "Oh look, v equals s over t! How simple!" Fast forward to finals week on the right, where your soul has been crushed by the endless derivations, proofs, and problem sets that make you question your life choices. Those innocent equations have multiplied, mutated, and now haunt your dreams. That moment when you realize Newton's laws were just the tutorial level, and now you're fighting the final boss with nothing but coffee and despair.

Physics and engineering students looking at someone calling scientific calculator functions "useless"? *nervous laughter intensifies* 🧪 Those circled buttons (sin, cos, tan, log) are the bread and butter of anyone who's ever had to calculate the trajectory of a projectile at 2AM while questioning their life choices! Without them, we'd still be drawing triangles in the sand like cavemen with protractors! The real useless button is the one that turns the calculator on. Once you enter STEM, that thing never gets turned off. It becomes a permanent extension of your trembling, caffeine-fueled hand!

The cosmic comedy of astronomy in one perfect punchline! Someone points at a garbage can and declares it's "on fire," but our intrepid astronomer immediately jumps to "could be dark matter." Because why settle for mundane explanations when you can invoke mysterious cosmic substances that make up 27% of the universe yet remain completely invisible? Astronomers really will look at literally anything unexplained and whisper "dark matter" with that gleam in their eyes. Next time your toast goes missing, don't blame your roommate—clearly it's been affected by the gravitational pull of undetectable particles!

First-year physics students are like those orangutans on a talk show—nobody asked, but they'll still interrupt your peaceful existence to explain why planets move in ellipses and not circles. Just finished chapter 3? Congratulations, now you're an astrophysics expert ready to enlighten everyone at parties about perihelion and aphelion. The rest of us are just trying to enjoy our coffee without hearing about the square of orbital periods being proportional to the cube of semi-major axes. Trust me, your dating profile doesn't need "can calculate orbital mechanics" as a skill.

The internet's finest historical accuracy on display! Fermi won his Nobel Prize in 1938, but the article claims he published his groundbreaking work on March 25, 1938... which would be the fastest peer review and Nobel selection in history. Science typically moves at the pace of a tenured professor approaching retirement, not same-day Amazon delivery. Truth is, Fermi received his Nobel for work published years earlier, and he actually got the news while fleeing fascist Italy. Nothing says "congratulations on your scientific achievement" quite like escaping a dictatorship with your Nobel medal as emergency currency.

Behold, the perfect marriage of physics and finance! That fancy differential equation on the left is just scientific window dressing for what traders already know—the market is completely unpredictable. Notice how the stock chart plummets despite all those Greek symbols promising mathematical certainty? That's the universe laughing at your 401k. This is basically every quant trader trying to convince investors that their algorithm can predict market movements when really they're just as clueless as the rest of us—but with better notation.