Humor in Science and Theology

An expansion on one from my current math textbook:

"The mother was exasperated because the mess in the kids’ room increased exponentially. Only 10 items were out of place at 9 a.m., but 40 minutes later 80 items were out of place. How many items were out of place by 11 am? "

If we assume that these kids are magical exponentially increasing disorder-generators (not too unrealistic an assumption), and that the kids will eventually be rearranging Planck volumes (less realistic assumption), then there is a limit on how long this can continue: 28 hours and six seconds. That is when the radius of the expanding ball of rearranged Planck volumes must start expanding faster than c. This will occur when the ball is exactly one light second in diameter. The number of things can only expand along with t^3, rather than 2^(1/800*t) (t in seconds) now.

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That’s a familiar situation in my house… I think by 11 a.m. I’m leaning more toward qualitative assessments than quantitative. :wink:

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The radius expands faster than c in our house that’s for sure. Mess rarely obeys the laws of physics.

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Some one created a clever (and even a mite disturbing) squash scene on the obstetrics floor at our hospital

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Evidence for how terrible HFCS is:
Per capita consumption of high fructose corn syrup (US) correlates with Murders by hanging, strangulation and suffocation (tylervigen.com),
it also correlates well with deaths due to collisions with smaller consumer vehicles (deaths of pedestrians, drivers, and passengers seperately), and deaths caused by inhalation of gastric contents. It strongly inversely correlates with US spending on science, space, and technology.

From the same source one can add:
So this is what computer science doctorates are good for:
Total revenue generated by arcades (US) correlates with Computer science doctorates awarded (US), Civil engineering doctorates awarded (US), and Engineering doctorates awarded (US), PhDs awarded to women in all fields (US), Biology and Biomedical doctorates, Uranium stored at US nuclear power plants, and a huge number of other things that generally go with population. Also, people who drink whole milk, die during surgery, or get legally executed don’t spend money at arcades (or vice versa).

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Reminds me of this:
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Very naughty, Phil!

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My son when he was about 15 months old reached out with one hand and touched his mom’s phone for one swipe and it froze up and would not work. We took it to this phone store and the guy said that this is the risk you run when trying to hack your phone or something. I told him we were not. He was convinced that it was and said this would have taken several minutes to Jack it up this bad. We kept swearing he did it with one hand in one swipe. The guy refused to believe it and said it was impossible. We had to buy a new phone and the other one never worked again.

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There is another category label that overrides and covers them all: Senior Memory! (Retirement is great, but avoid the getting old part. :slightly_smiling_face:)

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https://www.reddit.com/r/gifs/comments/7mikwz/this_cat_rolls_down_the_stairs_like_a/

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Funny. My newest cat does that often. I originally heard “slinky with claws” from the Common Descent Podcast about cats and thought it was the perfect analogy.

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Wrong answer: No, can I get some help with that?

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the "modern worship service " one? the joke is that modern praise and worship songs seem to repeat the same words over, and over, and over… here’s an example

An old farmer went to the city one weekend and attended the big city church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.

  "Well," said the farmer, "it was good. They did something different, however. They sang praise choruses instead of hymns."
  
  "Praise choruses?" said his wife. "What are those?"
  
  "Oh, they're OK. They are sort of like hymns, only different," said the farmer.
  
  "Well, what's the difference?" asked his wife.
  
  The farmer said, "Well, it's like this - If I were to say to you: "Martha, the cows are in the corn"' - well, that would be a hymn. If on the other hand, I were to say to you:
  
  'Martha, Martha, Martha, Oh Martha, MARTHA, MARTHA, the cows, the big cows, the brown cows, the black cows the white cows, the black and white cows, the COWS, COWS, COWS are in the corn, are in the corn, are in the corn, are in the corn, the CORN, CORN, CORN.'
  
  Then, if I were to repeat the whole thing two or three times, well, that would be a praise chorus."
  
  The next weekend, his nephew, a young, new Christian from the city came to visit and attended the local church of the small town. He went home and his mother asked him how it was.
  
  "Well," said the young man, "it was good. They did something different however. They sang hymns instead of regular songs."
  
  "Hymns?" asked his mother. "What are those?"
  
  "Oh, they're OK. They are sort of like regular songs, only different," said the young man.
  
  "Well, what's the difference?" asked his mother.
  
  The young man said, "Well, it's like this - If I were to say to you: 'Martha, the cows are in the corn' - well, that would be a regular song. If on the other hand, I were to say to you:
  
  'Oh Martha, dear Martha, hear thou my cry Inclinest thine ear to the words of my mouth Turn thou thy whole wondrous ear by and by To the righteous, inimitable, glorious truth.
  
  For the way of the animals who can explain There in their heads is no shadow of sense Hearkenest they in God's sun or His rain Unless from the mild, tempting corn they are fenced.
  
  Yea those cows in glad bovine, rebellious delight Have broke free their shackles, their warm pens eschewed Then goaded by minions of darkness and night They all my mild Chilliwack sweet corn have chewed.
  
  So look to the bright shining day by and by Where all foul corruptions of earth are reborn Where no vicious animals make my soul cry And I no longer see those foul cows in the corn.'
  
  Then if I were to do only verses one, three and four and do a key change on the last verse, well that would be a hymn.
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