Tuesday, July 23, 2019

The locusts ate my math homework.. and other biblical excuses. PART FIVE by Christopher Havens

In the morning, at the time congruent to 6 modulo 12, all of the area around Eden University was covered in lakes of tar, scattered about the haphazardly. For although the locust horde had nearly thinned to nonexistence, each one left a tiny droplet of high grade fertilizer in its stead, accumulating in the low level contours of the landscape. Students and faculty could be seen taking roundabout paths, using canoes, and occasionally the stranded unfortunate would animatedly wave their hands in frustration, trying to capture the attention of the passersby.

And so it came to pass that on the fifth day of school, only 13 students made it into class. Eve sat scribbling behind a pile of books, and Adam contemplated the finishing touches on his first submission to the Journal of Research in Number Theory. A fly, unnoticed by all but Little Descartes, landed on a wall, inspiring an idea... meanwhile the rest of the students gossipped about who would accompany whom at the lambda alpha mu epsilon fraternity party over the weekend, a sorority was throwing their annual sigma epsilon xi party, and about some recent provocative sightings at the Eden University garden. The mood of the class reflected optimism for tomorrow, and the promise of a bright future... that is, until Professor G.H. Hardy strode through the door.

So it came to pass that on the fifth day of school, Professor G.H. Hardy said LET THERE BE EXAMS! and so there was. But not before the declaration, causing new degrees of math anxiety currently unexplored by mankind, triggered a frenzy. Brutus materialized from the Hausdorff dimension and suddenly disappeared again, and two students attempted to follow... One student, clutching at his bottom, left a discolored trail of fear as he ran to the bathroom. Some were not so fortunate. The scene that unfolded could be comparable to a pantomimed version of another world war. Pain.. loss.. anguish. ..The liquid smell of fear. For in the class of G.H. Hardy, math anxiety bubbled from the breeches of so many students.

Meanwhile, as convulsions commenced through the classroom, Little Descartes was visibly shaking due to mathematical allergies.. but something was amiss. The tip-off being that Hardy was actively trying to suppress a belly laugh as he tip toed past past the turmoil indicating to Adam, Eve, and even Descartes that they too should follow. As they crept from the room, one thing was obvious... there would be no exam today.  

Christopher

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