I.3.10

4/28/2021

YA GOT PUNK'D. Well, you see, you know how I shot my load so hard in the
last exercise over it being super short that I spelled "LOL" in semen on my
bedroom wall? Well, if you prick at the dried wallcum, collect in a bowl, and eat
the plasperm like ground mozzarella cheese, then you have, I would say,
completely wasted your time (i.e. opening the html to read the text is not worth
it). And even worse: The following cum art piece (i.e. this exercise. this blog
actually isn't math but a postmodernist mueseum) is EVEN SHORTER.

See: Let's say you had a variety on the left and a variety on the right. And let's
say you had a morphism between them. Now let's say you take subvarities of the
left and right, such that the image of the morphism on the left subvariety is
contained in the right subvariety. Now restrict the morphism. Is it still a
morphism?

The answer is yes. It takes 2 minutes to show this. Now what if you add the
extra condition on the morphism like this exercise does? Now the right
variety is a subvariety of the left. Does the answer change? OF COURSE
NOT, because this is just a specific case of what I was talking about.

So what exactly is the point of this exercise? What's with this condition that Y is
a subvariety of X? I was confused while doing this not because it was too
difficult, but too easy.

Listen: You may find yourself standing on dimly lit cobblestone echoing a
euphoric rumble, hands-in-pockets, head down, deciding whether to get on to the
next one or up hoard and put stay. Easy, difficult, yay, nay? A person
needs sleep, but not always, eh? And why forfeit the chance of finally
finding your way on this receding day? The ritual is irrational, but if true
happiness may be but an ache away? And ruin just a nap gone astray?
An opportunity, or a loose stack of hay? Perhaps the cobblestone is a
stream, and you can fish for an "Are you okay?" Or maybe a pixie, whose
shoulder on which to lay? Or maybe just the hint of a beginning, a simple
"Hey". And are we standing on cobblestone, or the foot of May? Time to
walk, lest this month go away. But wait, what about play? And thus:
immobility comes back into the fray. Dizzying time, life being flayed.
The cobblestone starts to look gray. Minutes pass and the the day dims,
anticipating the inevitable morning ray. Day and night, night and day, we stand
here arrested, deliberating on the FUCK THIS LET'S JUST LOOK AT
THE SOLUTION YOLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

LOL. Ok. Cya next time.