You Know, If The JPL Shuttle Hits You, You Don’t Have to Go to Your Power Hum

Maybe if it hits me, I won’t have to go to class. Just do it, Mrs. JPL Shuttle Lady, I don’t want to go to week six of philosophy on this rainy winter night. It’s dark out. I’m supposed to be indoors. Not “indoors” like inside Baxter, of course, but indoors like in my bed. They say, “If you love it, set it free.” You can set me free with your gas pedal. Then I can do more useful things with my time, like that physics set. Boy, do I wish I could just skip that class. You know, JPL shuttle lady, if you hit me, you could save me a lot of trouble. Just a gentle nudge with your bumper. You won’t even get in trouble.

I mean, why do I need nine hours of philosophy education a week? I already think about my existence a ton, especially when I see questions like:

Let F be a field and F[x] the rings of polynomials in one variable x and coefficients in F. Let f(x) ∈ F[x] of degree n and assume f(x) is a product of distinct linear factors, i.e. f(x) = E_n^i=1 (x − ai) where a_i ∈ F are all distinct. Prove that the ring F[x]/(f(x)) is isomorphic to F_n.

on my Ma5b set. That’s not words. It only has meaning to an elite few. It’s like mathematicians invented a secret language just so they could chatter about how stupid and mundane the rest of us are, behind our backs but under our noses. I know I will never infiltrate their sphere, yet I labor to make sense of its existence, week after week. I confessed my feelings to Jessica, but she just changed the subject and told me about something called “Existential Quantification” in mathematics. That’s not even what I was talking about, Jessica. I hate you.

In fact, I hate Jessica so much that I’m starting to wonder if I’m turning into a bitter upperclassmen, like I swore I wouldn’t. What went wrong? What am I doing? Is the ivory tower of academia slipping from my grasp even as I stride heavily towards it? Just touch me, Mrs. JPL Shuttle Lady, so I can postpone this painful introspection another day. If you just touch me, I can get back on top of my coursework, and stop sobbing on top of my study buddy for another few days, until the work catches up to me again.

Fuck, the JPL shuttle isn’t even running at this hour.



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