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chaos

Original: chaos on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal

Transcript

Panel 1:
Man with flame-like spiky hair: According to chaos theory, the flap of a butterfly's wings may cause a hurricane.

Panel 2:
Same man: Suppose the odds of this happening are one in a trillion per flap, and suppose each butterfly requires one cubic meter of space to live in.

Panel 3:
Same man: Assuming each butterfly flaps its wings once per minute on average, if we fill a one-trillion cubic kilometer butterfly container with enough butterflies, we'd produce a hurricane once a minute forever!

Panel 4:
Same man (gesturing): Let us join forces, create the chaos machine, and rule the world!
Mathematicians/cloudphysicists/etc for so long we have been scorned by the very disparate academic disciplines!

Panel 5:
Second man: But who's going to build it?
Same flame-haired man: We may have to loop in the engineers.

Panel 6:
Flame-haired man: But they're very slightly cooler than us!
Second man: You leave them to me.

Panel 7:
LATER
A bald engineer: This is stupid and it won't work.
Flame-haired man: I call it 3D printed weather!
Engineer: I'm in.

Votey:
A person with closed eyes, looking weary, says: I'm changing butterflies to plastic ball bearings.

Alt text

A seven-panel comic. A man with wild flame-like hair excitedly explains a scheme based on chaos theory: since a butterfly's wing flap might cause a hurricane (say, one-in-a-trillion odds per flap), he proposes filling a trillion-cubic-kilometer container with butterflies flapping once a minute to produce a hurricane every minute forever. He rallies fellow scorned academics to build a 'chaos machine' and rule the world. When asked who will actually build it, he reluctantly admits they must loop in the engineers, complaining they are 'very slightly cooler than us.' His colleague says to leave them to him. Later, a bald engineer flatly says, 'This is stupid and it won't work,' but when the flame-haired man rebrands it as '3D printed weather!', the engineer immediately replies, 'I'm in.' Votey: a weary, eyes-closed person says, 'I'm changing butterflies to plastic ball bearings,' suggesting the project has been stripped of any actual butterflies.

Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.