Matthew used to think love was as easy as 3.14159, but Linda was rapidly proving him wrong. He loved Linda, sure, just like he loved his dog Einstein, but he loved mathematics the most. Linda was a woman he met through his parents, and as of three(3) months ago, his wife. Einstein was a mutt he found at the animal shelter four(4) years ago, and also his best friend.
But math, math was something inherently part of him from the day he was born (5/6/78), math was found in his name and etched in the lines on his palms. Math was in the shapes around him, in the vectors he travelled from point A to point B. Math was even in Linda’s face, for it was near perfect according to the Golden Ratio (1.61803), and the moment his mother, desperate to find him a wife, introduced to him a woman with a completely symmetrical face, he knew she was The One(1).
Einstein had learned to respect his love for math, and even stayed by his side as a steadfast companion through long nights filled with tedious derivations. Linda was different though, because she was a woman and he soon realized, after countless failed math pickup lines and proposals in binary code, that math and science, while they were vital in understanding how the world worked, were absolutely useless when it came to the Study of a Woman's Heart.
Linda's heart, he knew, was just like his own in that it was composed of four(4) chambers, two(2) ventricles and two(2) atria, and it pumped blood to the rest of the body in a periodic cycle of contractions. On average, Linda’s heart beat at a rate of seventy(70) bpm, which meant that in one(1) hour, it beat forty-two hundred(4200) times. If asked, Matthew could easily model the in- and out- flow of blood from Linda's heart, or make predictions about her heart rate in five(5) hours given her blood pressure reading now. But love wasn't as easy as understanding just the mathematics behind a woman's heart, because there was this unknown variable called "feelings," and math failed to tell him how to interpret those.
"You've broken my heart," said Linda to him one(1) day, black mascara tears streaking down her cheeks. He blinked at her – the heart couldn’t break, could it? He was in the middle of constructing a new lemma, to help him form a proof for the Riemann Hypothesis, and he wanted to tell her to keep quiet and let him concentrate but he saw from the look on her face that this wasn't the time.
"I'm sorry," he said, pencil stilling in his hands.
"No, you're not," said Linda, and in all honesty, she was correct. "I didn't think when I married you that you'd devote more time to a field of study than to your own wife, but you've proven me wrong."
"I've proven many things wrong," he said, adjusting his glasses. She gawked at him.
"This is exactly the problem," she said, waving her hands about chaotically in a way he found positively(>0) infuriating. "You spend so much time thinking, dreaming, breathing math that you don't know how to do anything else. It's like you're on another plane, you don't understand me."
"Planes can intersect to form a line," he said.
"Ours are parallel."
Touché, he thought. "I need you, Linda." He was lying through his teeth and she knew it.
"You don't need me," she said. "You just need a pencil and paper and a new idea. I'm tired of you and your long nights of research and dissociation from humankind."
Matthew sighed. "So what are we going to do?"
"'We' aren't going to do anything, Matt. There is no 'we.' There's just u+i = u+i, and I'm cancelling myself out of that equation."
It was an impressive last line, he had to admit, and before he could form a reply she had one(1) foot out the door. Einstein gave a soft whine when the door slammed shut. Matthew shrugged in response. "Q.E.D."
Q.E.D. = "quod erat demonstrandum," which means "what was to be demonstrated." traditionally put at the end of mathematical (and philosophical) proofs when the original statement has been proven. in this case, the original statement is "love is not easy."
slightly condensed/edited version: http://hitrecord.org/records/326750
- it's a wonderful life (wremix)
let's play pretend
until the end,
whenever that will be.
we'll dress in gowns
and dance around
and jump into the sea.
we'll float and fly
straight through the sky
in our hot air balloon,
and then we'll race
to outer space
and steal ourselves the moon.
let's make believe
and never leave
our own fantasy land.
we'll sing love songs
now wouldn't that be grand?
and even though
inside we'll know
nothing is as it seems,
as long as we're
who needs reality?
sang my lyrics over wirrow/gwen's amazing song. um... i hope this isn't terrible. <3 be sure to check out metaphorest's song for these lyrics (resourced) - it's the cheerful version. this is the melancholy version...
my most ambitious REmix to date, to illustrate the breakup scene from A Mathematician's Approach to Love (http://hitrecord.org/records/185877 if the link doesn't work)... my goal was to make a realistic 3D composite image using 30+ image REsources. did i succeed?
for background info, please check out the story! (link above and in resources)
some of the stock photos i used were self-taken; if you can't find them in the REsources and would like me to upload them for further REmixes (i.e. the desk, the light, the math books), please let me know.
many thanks to all of the incredible artists/photographers whose work i used!
& if you are curious about the process, or where certain REsources appear in the image (it's hard to find some of them), feel free to ask away! : D
What does it mean to be rational?
Fact: Two rational numbers can never be adjacent, as you will always find an irrational number between them.
Proposition: Two rational people...
People are put into the ground when they die.
Seeds are put into the ground to be born again.
^ the tiny story I wrote earlier
I had this idea that when the heart stops beating, it is planted into the ground like a seed to bring forth more life even after death. Let's keep our loved ones alive, again by heart -- RECord, RECord, RECord. <3
"You're too complex," said Pi.
"Don't be irrational," said i.
"Come on guys, be positive!" said 22/7.
"Oh look," said i grumpily, "the voice of reason."
-- it rolls. Down, down, down, crushing the dead earth in its path until it finally settles at the bottom of the steep mountain.
i wish you all a very happy, safe, and healthy new year. may twenty ELEVEN bring you nothing but genuine smiles and happiness. <3
thank you so much for allowing me to be a part of this community. i'm proud to say it has made me a significantly happier and more confident person. it is magical. WE are magical. i cannot say thank you enough, but here goes: THANK YOU, again, by heart.
p.s. apologies to the city of chicago for butchering your skyline...