Military leaders succeed in building a computer able to solve any strategic or tactical problem.
They are assembled in front of the new machine and instructed to feed a difficult tactical problem into it.
They describe a hypothetical situation to the computer and then ask the pivotal question: attack or retreat?
The computer hums away for an hour and then comes up with the answer: YES.
The generals look at each other, somewhat stupefied. Finally one of them submits a second request to the computer: YES WHAT?
Instantly the computer responded: YES SIR.
Funny video of the day - Fail Compilation May 2011
The weird new fad in restauran...The weird new fad in restaurants is serving roadkilled bird. I went to such a place last night. Man it was crow dead.
When a woman got married she p...When a woman got married she put a shoebox in the closet and told her husband not to open it. After over 50 years of marriage she was dying and told him to open the box. When he opened it there were 2 doilies and $85,000.00 He ask why this was in the box. She replied “when I got married my mother told me to crochet a doily every time I got mad at you. He smile thinking she was only mad twice and ask what the $85,000.00 was. She replied that's the money from selling the doilies.
Are you kidding?
Reaching the end of a job interview, the Human Resources Person asked a young Engineer fresh out of MIT, "And what starting salary were you looking for?"
The Engineer said, "In the neighborhood of $125,000 a year, depending on the benefits package."
The interviewer said, "Well, what would you say to a package of 5 weeks vacation, 14 paid holidays, full medical and dental, a company matching retirement fund for 50% of your salary, and a company car leased every 2 years -- say, a red Corvette?"
The Engineer sat up straight and said, "Wow! Are you kidding?"
And the interviewer replied, "Yeah, but you started it."
The Cesium Song 08
(tune, Lady Madonna)
Cesium on your meat,
Wonder how you manage,
To stay on your feet.
How d'ya stand the smokin'?
How d'ya 'bide the flame?
Do you think that life's just
A burnin' game.
Monday night your hunger's a blue fire,
Tuesday morn' you're cookin' 'fore the sun.
Wednesday rain, you're only flamin' higher,
Having your fun.
Cinders in your curls,
No way can compare you,
To ordinary girls.
Likin' the explosions,
Rock you on your seat.
How can any woman handle
All that heat?
---Songs of Cesium #47
Find number abc
Irishman Drunk and FAn Irishman had been drinking at a pub all night. The bartender finally said that the bar was closing. So the Irishman stood up to leave and fell flat on his face. He tried to stand one more time; same result. He figured he'll crawl outside and get some fresh air and maybe that will sober him up.
Once outside he stood up and fell flat on his face. So he decided to crawl the 4 blocks to his home. When he arrived at the door he stood up and again fell flat on his face. He crawled through the door and into his bedroom.
Martha Kelly: Preparing for Office WorkIts been a couple of years since I actually worked in an office, so I thought I should do something to prepare to get back into the typing, filing and phone answering, and what not. So what I did was I had a friend of mine go with me down to the local swimming pool, and I had him tie me up in a burlap sack and sink me to the bottom of the pool. And then just as I was about to suffocate, he yanked me up and gave me a lunch break.
Blonde Miracle DietAn overweight blonde consulted her doctor for advice. The doctor advised that she run 10 miles a day for 30 days. This, he promised, would help her lose as much as twenty pounds.
The blonde follows the doctor's advice, and, after thirty days, she was pleased to find that she'd indeed lost twenty pounds.
She phoned the doctor and thanked him for the wonderful advice which produced such effective results. At the end of the conversation, however, she asked one last question:
"How do I get home, since I am now 300 miles away?"
A frog walks into a bank. He g...A frog walks into a bank. He goes to the only open teller, and sees that her name is Paddy Whack. "Hey, listen" says the frog. "I really need a loan! I'm out of work, and my wife and tadpoles are at home starving! I need money so I can feed them and provide for them!"
Now Paddy feels very sorry for the poor frog and asks him if he has any collateral. He holds up a small glass elephant. Paddy is a little surprised by this, and quite unsure, but she feels so sorry for the the poor frog that she takes the elephant to her manager. "Mr. Manager, sir," Paddy begins "there is a frog out there who deperately needs a loan. He's out of work and he has a wife and tadpoles who are at home starving. He needs some money so he can provide for them! But all he has for collateral is this little glass elephant. What should I do?"
Well, Mr. Manager takes a good hard look at that elephant, thinks about it a little, and then replies, "It's a knick-knack, Paddy Whack, give the frog a loan!"
Grandpa and God
My grandson was visiting one day when he asked, â€œGrandma, do you know how you and God are alike?â€
I mentally polished my halo while I asked, â€œNow, how are we alike?â€
â€œYouâ€™re both old,â€ he replied.
"Cheney now says he can..."Cheney now says he can't blame the shooting on the guy who got shot. He said we tried that for three days. It didn't work." -- Jay Leno
Donald Glover: We Get ItIts kind of redundant -- have a black dude wearing an Obama shirt. Everybodys like, Yeah, we know. You like Obama; we get it. Its just like, I would do the same thing. I realize that its kind of redundant. I dont go up to white people wearing Coldplay shirts. You like Coldplay? For how long? Forever?
Recently Spotted Bumper Sticker:
"GOD LOVES YOU WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!"
Send my luggage....Passenger to Airline Ticket Agent: I want my brown suitcase sent to Los Angeles, my green suitcase sent to Kansas City, and my tan suitcase sent to New Orleans.
Ticket Agent: I'm sorry, sir; this flight is to Nashville. We can't do that.
Passenger: Why not ? You did it last time.
There were these 4 guys, a Rus...There were these 4 guys, a Russian, a German, an American and a French, who
found this small genie bottle. When they rubbed the bottle, a genie
appeared. Thankful that the 4 guys had released him out of the bottle, He
said, "Next to you all are 4 swimming pools, I will give each of you A
wish. When you run towards the pool and jump, you shout what you want the
pool of water to become, then your wish will come true."
The French wanted to start. He ran towards the pool, jumped and shouted,
The pool immediately changed into a pool of wine. The Frenchman was so
happy swimming and drinking from the pool.
Next is the Russian's turn, he did the same and shouted, "VODKA" and
immersed himself into a pool of vodka.
The German was next and he jumped and shouted, "BEER". He was so contented
with his beer pool.
The last is the American. He was running towards the pool when suddenly He
steps on a banana peel. He slipped towards the pool and shouted,
"SHIT!!!!!!! .......... "
LESSON IV: "THINK TWICE BEFORE YOU SAY SOMETHING, BECAUSE SOMETIMES
ACCIDENTS DO HAPPEN"
Wherein it is related how that Polygon of Womanly Virtue, your Polly Nomial (our heroine) is accosted by that Notorious Villain Curly Pi, and factored (oh, horror).
Once upon a time ( 1/T ), Pretty Polly Nomial was strolling across a field of vectors when she came to the boundary of a singularly large matrix. Now Polly was convergent and her mother had made it an absolute condition that she never enter such an array without her brackets on. Polly, however, who had changed her variables that morning and was feeling particularly badly behaved, ignored this condition on the basis that it was insufficient, and made her way amongst the complex elements.
Rows and columns closed in from all sides. Tangents approached her surface. She became tensor and tensor. Quite suddenly, two branches of a hyperbola touched her at a single point. She oscillated violently, lost all sense of directrix, and went completely divergent. As she reached a turning point, she tripped over a square root that was protruding from the erf and plunged headlong down a steep gradient. When she rounded off once more, she found herself inverted, apparently alone, in a non-Euclidian space.
She was being watched, however. That smooth operator, Curly Pi, was lurking innerproduct. As his eyes devoured her curvilinear coordinates, a singular expression crossed his face. He wondered, was she still convergent? He decided to integrate improperly at once.
Hearing a common fraction behind her, Polly rotated and saw Curly Pi approaching with his power series extrapolated. She could see at once by his degenerate conic and dissipative terms that he was bent on no good. "Arcsinh," she gasped.
"Ho, ho," he said. "What a symmetric little asymptote you have. I can see your angles have a lot of secs."
"Oh, sir," she protested, "keep away from me. I haven't got my brackets on."
"Calm yourself, My Dear," said our Suave Operator. "Your fears are purely imaginary."
"I, I," she thought, "perhaps he's not normal but homologous."
"What order are you?" the Brute demanded.
"Seventeen," replied Polly.
Curly leered. "I suppose you've never been operated on."
"Of course not," Polly replied quite properly. "I'm absolutely convergent."
"Come, come," said Curly, "Let's off to a decimal place I know and I'll take you to the limit."
"Never," gasped Polly.
"Abscissa," he swore, using the vilest oath he knew. His patience was gone. Coshing her over the coefficient with a log until she was powerless, Curly removed her discontinuities. He stared at her significant places, and began smoothing out her points of inflection. Poor Polly. The algorithmic method was now her only hope. She felt his hand tending to her asymptotic limit. Her convergence would soon be gone forever.
There was no mercy, for Curly was a heavyside operator. Curly's radius squared itself; Polly's loci quivered. He integrated by parts. He integrated by partial fractions. After he cofactored, he performed rungecutta on her. The complex beast even went all the way around and did a contour integration. Curly went on operating until he had satisfied her hypothesis, then he exponentiated and became completely orthogonal.
When Polly got home that night, her mother noticed that she was no longer piecewise continuous, but had been truncated in several places. But is was too late to differentiate now. As the months went by, Polly's denominator increased monotonically. Finally, she went to the L'Hopital and generated a small but pathological function which left surds all over the place and drove Polly to deviation.
The moral of our sad story is this:
'If you want to keep your expressions convergent, never allow them a single degree of freedom...'