Ceiling Wax

An original, one-scene, vignette play by Ernie, entitled
CEILING WAX,
or
FINDING THE CORAL OF UNDERSTANDING IN THE SEA OF CONFUSION,
or
THE QUEST FOR THE CONCH OF COMMUNICATION +10

(The scene opens on a humble dining room. Lila and Ernie sit at the table as their Mother speaks loudly from the adjacent kitchen. Lila appears to be writing thank-you letters to friends and family.)
Mother: Ernie, are you online? Can you check if Amazon has ceiling wax.
Ernie: No, they don't.
Mother: Too bad, we'll have to go out to get some.
Lila: We could try the zoo. For the seals.
Ernie: (Thinking: "that makes no sense at all but I'll laugh along.") Ah ha, how witty you are, sister of mine!

(The following morning: Ernie is awoken in bed most carelessly.)
Lila: Are you up yet?
Ernie: Ye---
Lila: I just wanted to tell you that we got some ceiling wax and you shouldn't be alarmed if the house burns down as I seal shut my thank-yous. Since the wax didn't come in colors, we'll also be melting crayons. Green crayons.
Ernie: (Catching on.) I thought you wanted wax for the ceiling!
Lila: Yup, so I could seal the letters.
Ernie: Oh, for the sealing. (Taps his nose knowingly.)
Lila: (With a look so quizzical less steeled souls would shatter under its weight. But Ernie is well known to be steeled and girded at all times. He is well known as an immotable mansion of mental magnificence. A towering colossus of cognitive clout. A titan of tranquil tenacity. Thus do men speak in hushed tones around campfires and in taverns across the lands of the one known by his name.)
Ernie: Of the letters.
Lila: (Quietly at unsure of her footing in this most discerning battle of wits.) Yes.
Ernie: So you won't be waxing any sea mammals or tops of our rooms, then, will you?
Lila: No, no we won't.
Ernie: Good.
Lila: I'm going downstairs now.
(Exeunt.)

MORAL: Avoid use of easily-confused homophones, because most likely nobody understands you! This could contribute to them not liking you or becoming deranged. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: All names, characters, places, and events are imaginary. So it follows trivially that any and all resemblance to anyone or anything real is intended, nor should it be inferred, because nothing is real.

Mathematics itself is on fire

So says this article in the New York Times. I find it rather interesting, not least because I love mathematics; also, the author maintains a playful tone throughout, including these phrases:

Referring to certain philosophy of science claims: "Those are still fighting words." (I picture bearded physicists throwing down clipboards and wrestling on top of a million-dollar piece of equipment.)

"Plato is really dead."

Describing someone as "a physicist and quantum trickster."

"In this case there is meta law — one law or equation, perhaps printable on a T-shirt — to rule them all."

The article comes to no conclusions about whether the scientific enterprise is independently valid, or rests on a fundamental faith in an orderly universe. It does present the theory that universes "spawn" with different features each time, which I think naturally lends itself to a video game. It could even be semi-educational, teaching players about physics. Of course, they would have to invent their own experiments. The game could dynamically change rules that they haven't discovered yet so that (with some small probability) each experiment contradicts the theory that the player has formed thus far. Thus does science baffle and entice we hapless scientists. Everything is so complexified.