al-Khwarizmi, Munch, Nostradamus, and Denzel
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“Here’s the next question. Now, you know my birthday, right?”
“Yes, it’s May 17th! Is that your question? Do I have your vote?”
“You really are an amazing piece of work, aren’t you? Of course, that’s not my question! I swear, at times, it feels like you have nothing between your ears, not one neuron.
“Anyway, as you may know, the smallest four-digit number is 1000, and the greatest 9999. There’s an algorithm, comprising five steps, wherein no matter which four-digit number you start with, the final output will always be 517, which, as you know, is my birthday number. Can you figure out how it works? Here’s a hint: all four basic mathematical operations are involved in this algorithm. You’ve got 60 seconds.”
Oy vey! How is that even possible? Oh, great al-Khwarizmi, the father of algebra, please, I’m begging you, appear before me and give me the right algorithm to answer my sister’s impossible question! You know your Latin name, ‘Algorismus,’ gave us the word algorithm! Help me save the baby cat, please!
“Oppa-ya, are you trying to mimic that ghastly figure in Munch’s The Scream right now? And if you keep on clutching your hair like that and stressing your scalp, you could become bald early. Also, your time’s up.
“Well, this is how you could do it. Let’s start out with a random four-digit number, say 7777.
- First, add 300 (7777 + 300 = 8077).
- Next, Multiply by 2 (8077 X 2 = 16154).
- After that, add the number of years it takes for the photons of light from Polaris, the North Star, to reach Earth, which is 434 (16154 + 434 = 16588).
- Then, divide by 2 (16588 / 2 = 8294).
- Finally, subtract the number we started with, which is 7777 (8294 – 7777 = 517).
It’s rather simple. If you follow each step of the algorithm correctly, then no matter what four-digit number you start with, whether it’s 1234 or 5916, the output will always be, voilà!, 517, my birthday number. Isn’t math wonderful?”
🦋
“Okay, Oppa, I’ll give you another chance. Let’s see if you can solve this tricky math problem, okay?”
No, not okay. Lord knows no Fermi estimation method I come up with will be enough to solve whatever question my Einsteiny sister throws at me. You know what, enough with questions. It’s time to lean into what I excel at. I gotta be a dynamite thespian once more.
“No need, sis. Math is your forte, not mine. I’m no Nostradamus, but I can predict with certainty that I’ll fail to answer any of your questions correctly.”
“So, you’re just gonna forfeit the chance at my vote then?”
Take it over, my inner Denzel!
“O, my dear lovely sister, would you care to lend an ear to your desperate brother’s pitiful woes? Please, I yearn for your vote so fervently, I can almost taste it. I know you are not unfeeling. I know you wouldn’t want that innocent little feline to perish out thither in the numbingly frigid wilderness. Let your kind Nightingale heart be filled with mercy, and let it guide your decision, I beseech you!”
“Yuck, enough with the theatrics. Save that for naive Big Oppa. Relax your dramatic gaze, lower your hands, and once again, for your sake, silence might suit you better.”
Aw, dang!
“Nevertheless, you know what, Little Oppa, until today, I never pegged you as particularly passionate. But the way you’re fighting for your little kitten is certainly poignant and commendable. I confess, I kind of sympathize with your plight, but you know I’ve never gone against Mom’s wishes in my entire life.”
“There’s a first time for everything, right? Can’t you make an exception this one time?”
“Well, I’m definitely caught between a rock and a hard place here. Please allow me some time to mull over and carefully weigh my options: your heartfelt compassion for a little, helpless creature versus the adversity I’ll certainly face if I deny Mom. My vote will be revealed later when we count the ballots in the living room. For now, ciao.”
I spent what felt like an eternity in my sister’s room, trying my utmost to keep up with her formidable intellect and making every possible effort to disregard the sting of her barbed insults. But all my exertion was for naught. I exited her room feeling just as I did when I had first entered: she may or may not vote for me. Sigh…