Why Physicists Don't Make Planes

Physics students spend years calculating the motion of rigid bodies only to become existentially rigid themselves. The double meaning here is chef's kiss—in physics, a rigid body is an idealized solid where distance between particles remains constant, while philosophically we're all just temporary collections of atoms following deterministic laws. Nothing like reducing human consciousness to a mechanics problem to really brighten your day.

When your circuit refuses to work and suddenly you're contemplating the universe's greatest mystery: why you chose physics instead of literally anything else! Those differential equations on the board aren't calculating your happiness levels, that's for sure. The existential crisis hits hardest when you're surrounded by wires that make more connections than your social life. Somewhere between Ohm's Law and the third hour of troubleshooting, you realize that resistance isn't just a physical property—it's your soul fighting against another lab report!

Behold the pinnacle of math humor! What we have here is a visual pun where "sink" (the kitchen fixture) divided by "k" equals "sin" (the trigonometric function), which is represented by a tank. Because sin(k) = tank... get it? This is what happens when mathematicians try to be funny at 2 AM after their fifth cup of coffee. The kind of joke that makes engineers snort uncontrollably while everyone else slowly backs away. Next time someone says math isn't creative, show them this masterpiece of calculus comedy!

The corporate world wants you to spot the difference between two aircraft with identical wing areas, but physics students know better. While the shapes differ dramatically, both planes generate the same lift because—surprise!—wing area is what matters for lift calculation, not the shape. This is the aerodynamic equivalent of saying "2+2=4" and "1+3=4" are different equations. Engineers are silently screaming somewhere. Next time your boss asks you to find "meaningful differences" in identical quarterly reports, just remember: sometimes there truly is no difference, no matter how much management wants one.

That moment of existential dread when you've been tightening a bolt for what feels like eons, only to cross the threshold where physics decides to mock your entire career. The bolt suddenly starts loosening again, and you're left questioning your engineering degree, your life choices, and possibly the fundamental laws of the universe. It's the mechanical equivalent of Stockholm syndrome – you've been torturing this bolt for so long that it's now deliberately sabotaging you back.

The baby's first words aren't "mama" or "dada" but a full-on physics lecture defending the small-angle approximation! Instead of cute babbling, this infant drops mathematical truth bombs about how sin(x)≈x is actually a legitimate simplification from Taylor series expansion. The kid's basically saying "Hey, physicists don't make this approximation because they're lazy—they do it because it works for small angles!" That moment when your newborn skips straight to graduate-level physics rants. Future Nobel Prize winner or just really tired of seeing physicists get mocked on the internet? Either way, that mother's face in the last panel says it all!