Math

For some reason, one of the most difficult types of math is time zone math. It seems pretty simple--but it really confuses people. "It's 11:34 AM here. What time is it in Rome? There's a nine hour difference. Wait a second. Do I add nine hours, or subtract nine hours? Well, Rome is east of us--and the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. But Rome is also west of us if you sail the other way in the Santa Maria. But it's closer when you go east--because Columbus sailed the ocean blue in Fourteen Hundred and Ninety Two. OK. So if it's 11:34 AM here, I have to go nine hours east in the Pinta, cross the am-pm line, adjust my zip code counterclockwise for Groundhog Day on Leap Year, and convert my dollars to East Nigerian Deutschmarks. And that makes it 12:62 PM next Tuesday in Rome." What exactly was Abraham Lincoln thinking when he opened his speech with "Four score and seven years ago," instead of just saying "87 years ago?" Who the hell looks at a number like 87, and thinks, "87? No. Four score and seven." How come Lincoln decided to express that number in a combination of score and years, and make everyone do unnecessary math? Is that what people did back then in everyday life? "Are you ready order?" "Yeah. I'll have three score, two dozen, and seven jelly donuts. You figure that shit out." In the 1800s, you had to have a math degree just to work at a donut shop. Isn't it interesting how 4 follows 3? That's very convenient. It makes math easy. It's nice how all of the numbers ended up in order. What if 4 were before 3, and after 5? That would make it really difficult to add 345 to 534. You'd have to adjust your thermometer for Groundhogs Day, and convert your East Nigerian Deutschmarks to Chinese pesos. Some students get creative on math tests. For instance, when they come across the problem "123 + 897" they put down the answer, "Yes. Those are numbers." What's the deal with division? I think it's one of those unnecessary operations. It has no use. Mathematicians just invented it to show off. "Look. We can do division. Look at us. 9 divided by 3. Equals 3. This is some serious stuff. Math."

Those are my math jokes. I perform them in clubs, right after my "white people are like this, black people are like that" material. If you don't have jokes on math, you're not a real comedian. What's the deal with trigonometry? After learning trigonometry, I figured the real world would contain a lot of triangles. For a while, I kept on thinking, "Any day now, I'm going to come across some triangles and put this trigonometry to good use. I got my scientific calculator. Sine, cosine, tangent, etc. Bring on the triangles. Let's do this." But the world isn't quite as triangular as I expected. There are plenty of circles. Like wheels, Big Macs, and the sun. And there are plenty of rectangles. Like walls, paintings, and ice cream sandwiches. But there aren't that many triangles. Trigonometry classes don't really mention that. They should tell you on day one, "We're going to spend the next several months studying triangles. By the way--99.99% of the world is non-triangular." Jerry Seinfeld doesn't have any trigonometry jokes. I do. I'm pretty sure that means I'm the superior comedian. Where's my TV show? I'm waiting for NBC to call and offer me one. Or maybe I should call them. I'll pitch them my idea. "It's a sitcom based on my trigonometrical observational humor. I call the show Tangent-feld. Not Cosine-feld or Sine-feld. I'm above doing puns like that."