2011-03-20
Original: 2011-03-20 on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Title: HOW "NEW AGE" PHILOSOPHY WORKS
Panel 1:
Woman (smiling, dark hair, green shirt): You should pay me because I can teach you how, with the power of your mind, you can see across the entirety of time and space.
Panel 2:
Man (red hair, dark red shirt, skeptical): I dunno... I don't see how or why the brain would have an apparatus for that. Can you explain how it works?
Panel 3:
Woman: What if, instead of explaining, I whispered "quantum mechanics" and winked knowingly?
Panel 4:
Man (grinning): SOLD!
Votey:
Woman: For an extra $20 I can nod my head meaningfully.
Panel 1:
Woman (smiling, dark hair, green shirt): You should pay me because I can teach you how, with the power of your mind, you can see across the entirety of time and space.
Panel 2:
Man (red hair, dark red shirt, skeptical): I dunno... I don't see how or why the brain would have an apparatus for that. Can you explain how it works?
Panel 3:
Woman: What if, instead of explaining, I whispered "quantum mechanics" and winked knowingly?
Panel 4:
Man (grinning): SOLD!
Votey:
Woman: For an extra $20 I can nod my head meaningfully.
Alt text
A four-panel SMBC comic titled "How 'New Age' Philosophy Works." Panel 1: A smiling woman with dark hair in a green shirt tells a man, "You should pay me because I can teach you how, with the power of your mind, you can see across the entirety of time and space." Panel 2: A red-haired man in a dark red shirt looks skeptical and replies, "I dunno... I don't see how or why the brain would have an apparatus for that. Can you explain how it works?" Panel 3: The woman answers, "What if, instead of explaining, I whispered 'quantum mechanics' and winked knowingly?" Panel 4: The man grins broadly and shouts, "SOLD!" Votey (a black-and-white aftercomic panel): The woman adds, "For an extra $20 I can nod my head meaningfully." The joke skewers how vague invocations of science and confident body language can sell pseudoscience without any real explanation.
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.