math is hard

Make no mistake about it.

Math is hard.

It’ll pull down your pants, kick you where it hurts, then tell all your friends about how you cried like a little bitch.

For my next-next post, as in the post following this one, you’re going to see some weird and unusual things.

And some of you — most of you — are going to dislike it.

Allow me to explain.

Phil’s Proof is not a math blog. This, for example, is a math blog.

And let’s be honest. Who reads this shit?

Probably like, eight people on the Internet.

Let’s first establish two preliminary facts.

Fact 1: Math is hard. Math will kick you when you’re down.

Make no mistake about it. Math is hard. It’ll pull down your pants, kick you where it hurts, and then tell all your friends about how you cried like a little bitch.

It’s a whole new language. Don’t believe me? Read this.

Have you ever asked a math researcher what he does? Notice that casual, well practiced, nothin’-much shrug? You know why he does that?

It’s because you wouldn’t understand it.

He’d need three textbooks, several appendices, a blackboard, and a donkey just to give you the necessary background before you get to where the action’s at.

Try not to get offended. It’s just the nature of the beast.

Fact 2: There are two types of mathematical writing.

Good and bad. Technical and expository.

90% of the stuff out there is technical writing. That’s the stuff you see in textbooks, journal articles, math databases, and so on. Some of the stuff is highly unreadable, but there are the rare readable ones.

Here’s a random page from one of my books.

Imagine reading Harry Potter. But instead, the entire book consists of theorems, definitions, proofs, lemmas, and the odd footnote. Imagine having to do exercises at the end of each chapter just so you can understand what happened. Oh, and did I mention Hermione’s gone? Yeah, that’s right. You don’t get girls looking like that in math.

So then there’s expository writing. This is the kind of writing that’s slanted towards a broader audience.

Math is technical. It’s brutal. But it’s also beautiful. And if a writer can somehow remove the fog of technical jargon and doowacky, and show just how beautiful math can be — well, that’s wondrous writing indeed.

I’ve got a lot of respect for these kinds of mathematicians. Because to be a great expository writer, you have to have both a complete understanding of the nitty and gritty, as well as a tremendous writing ability. You need to have pizazz and flair.

Baby, you need a personality.

Phil’s Proof is not a math blog.

Not really.

I know most of you aren’t serious math buffs. And you know what? I love that!

In the rare instances that I do write about math, I need it to be fun. I need it to be light and frothy. And the fact that so many of you have written to tell me that I’ve managed to make it all comprehensible and interesting, well, that just warms my little geeky heart.

But that kind of expository writing takes energy. Hooo boy, does it ever! I need find creative ways to translate hoogie-boogie jibberish to everyday English. And that’s always a big effort.

Which brings me to my next post.

Sometimes, I don’t want to go through all that effort. Sometimes, I need to write a more technically slanted post. For most math gurus, the writing is still going to be pretty informal. But for most of my usual readers, you’ve been warned.

Unlike my usual chatter, it’s not going to go down well with a nice cup o’ tea and sugary pastry. You better have a family-sized bottle of Pepto-Bismol ready.

In any case, my usual programming of inane randomness and silliness will resume shortly after.