Last week, I had a party in my head: One night on some prescription I'm calling "troglodyte", only because it's vaguely similar to its actual name and I can't be bothered to look it up for the correct spelling. It was intended to put me to sleep; instead it got me all spazzed out about prime numbers. I have never cared about prime numbers before in my entire life. So I should actually call the pill "nerd pill."
Ultimately, I decided they--the prime numbers, that is--were disappointing. Not that they care what I think, but still--they're just like acid for nerds. (Which I expect will lead many of you off into the realm of developing new math-related pictures for blotter acid sheets. Have fun with fractals!)
My brother's hesitant-yet-funny suggestion, when I told him I spent four hours thinking about/yammering about prime numbers instead of sleeping: "Um, so maybe you should use those pills for something else?" Which I think means "join me on a delightful vacation in Mathematics Land." Way to let the freak flag fly, man.
Now that I am back to sleeping normally-for-me, I have more sensible things to think about, such as:
It what nighttime low temperature will the neighborhood hummingbirds freeze to death? [answer: don't want to know.]
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Why do real giant squid seem so disappointing? [answer: I want my squid to be diploducus-sized. The one on display at the Smithsonian is a measly 24 feet.]
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Is Sea Shepherd as strangely incompetent as they appear on the reality show Whale Wars? [answer: please let this not be the case. I have supported them for years.]
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When will TV references to The Art of War stop? [answer: 2009. Even if I have to throw my shoe at some tv people to make it happen.]
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Can we please mash up inauguration and the Oscars into one giant politically-themed musical? [answer: can do!]