ABCD

Narrator: Dear various parents, grandparents, co-workers, and other "not computer people." Narrator: We don't magically know how to do everything in every program. When we help you' we're usually just doing this: [[There is a flowchart there. Numbers are included to improve clarity, and do not appear in the original.]] Rectangle: Start. [[go to 1]] {{1. Diamond}} Find a menu item or button which looks related to what you want to do. [[I can't find one - go to 2]] [[ok - go to 3]] {{2. Diamond}} Pick one at random. [[I've tried them all - go to 4]] [[Ok - go to 3]] {{3. Rectangle}} Click it. [[go to 5]] {{4. Rectangle}} Google the name of the program plus a few words related to what you want to do. Follow any instructions. [[go to 5]] {{5. Diamond}} Did it work? [[Yes - go to 8]] [[No - go to 6]] {{6. Diamond}} Have you been trying this for over half an hour? [[Yes - go to 7]] [[No - go to 1]] {{7. Rectangle}} Ask someone for help or give up. [[End of flowchart]] {{8. Rectangle}} You're done! [[End of flowchart]] Narrator: Please print this flowchart out and tape it near your screen. Congratulations; you're now the local computer expert! {{Title text: 'Hey Megan, it's your father. How do I print out a flowchart?'}}

Newton, 1666 [[A guy with long white hair holds up a sheet of paper.]] Newton: I've invented calculus! Leibniz, 1674 [[A man with long black hair holds up a sheet of paper.]] Leibniz: I've invented calculus! Newton: Really? Sounds a little bit... [[Newton puts on a pair of sunglasses.]] Newton: [[in italics]] Derivative. {{Title text: YEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHH!}}

Man: I now have every Discworld book! Woman: Eh. Building a Kindle collection seems pointless. Man: Yeah, I know the DRM means I'll probably lose them someday. Woman: No, pointless in general. Woman: Sure, you satisfy deep magpie-like urges by building neat collections, but you still die alone. Man: Sorry, sometimes I mistake your existential crises for technical insights. Woman: Sometimes I mistake this for a universe that cares. {{Title text: You know what really helps an existential crisis? Wondering how much shelf space to leave for a Terry Pratchett collection.}}

Browsing without adblock [[A man is sitting at a computer.]] [[Pop-up window with red background.]] The Facebook of SEX! Click now! Man: Sigh. <<Close>> [[Pop-up window with green background.]] Twitter for 18+ singles! Join today! Man: Does every porn site have to brant itself like this? <<Close>> [[Pop-up window with blue background.]] We're like Google Reader for S&M! Man: ((in italics)) Really? <<Close>> [[Pop-up window with orange background.]] Try the new GitHub for lesbians! Man: Ok, wait, what? {{Title text: Actually, 'RSS&M' is kinda catchy.}}

History of 19th-Century Oregon [[Timeline, with relevant images next to each date.]] 1805 [[Two men stand at the edge of a cliff. One has a walking staff.]] Arrival of Lewis & Clark 1825 Early settlers arrive 1841 Oregon trail established 1843 Larger western migration begins 1848 [[A horse is pulling a covered wagon. A gun peeks out the back.]] Huge wave of 500,000+ settlers arrives from Missouri. Largely children and adolescents, most bring nothing but cartloads of bullets for hunting. 1849 [[Two men with rifles aim at something.]] Overhunting begins to devastate ecosystem Dysentery epidemic 1850 [[Tombstones. Bodies.]] Shooting deaths skyrocket Typhoid epidemic Measles epidemic Cholera epidemic 1851 All mammals larger than squirrels wiped out by overhunting. Massive famine 1852 [[Sun low over a land, devoid of life. Scattered remains of corpses.]] Last survivors flee Oregon territory abandoned {{Title text: A century later, the harrowing flight of the survivors from Oregon was dramatized in a popular video game.}}

[[Students are sitting at desks.]] Student #1: How do you know there are an infinite number of primes? Professor: I'll answer in haiku! Professor: Top prime's divisors' [[The professor floats into the air.]] Professor: Product (plus one)'s factors are...? [[The professor wafts over the students.]] Professor: Q.E.D., bitches! Student #2 ((in thought bubble)) Wow, after the 48-hour sleep-dep mark, lectures get really interesting. {{Title text: After somewhere around 40 hours, there's no academic reason to go to the class. Only go for the hallucinations.}}

Narrator: He has dreams. [[Man is gesturing to woman.]] Man: I was in this weird cross between work and my old house... Narrator: Which he'll tell you all about. Narrator: He can speak French. Narrator: Or could in high school, anyway. Narrator: A little. Man: Man, I knew all these tenses and stuff once. Narrator: His blog has four posts, all apologies for not posting more. [[The man is sitting at a desk, typing.]] Man: Sorry, I've been trying to think of stuff to put here. Narrator: He is Narrator: The least interesting man in the world. [[The man is sitting at a table. Two women are paying no attention to him.]] Man: I don't always drink beer, but when I do, I stick to a glass or two. Any more and I feel sick. {{Title text: Stay while I recount the crazy TF2 kill I managed yesterday, my friends.}}

Man: Titan's gravity is 14% of Earth's, and its atmosphere 50% denser. Man: So if you can generate 9% of your body weight in lift, you can fly on Titan. Man: With wings, a stage harness, a cable, and 91% of my bodyweight in in bricks, I want to test this. [[There is a heap of materials on the ground. The man is holding a stage harness.]] [[Large diagram of a bridge. A rope leads through pulleys tied to the bridge. One end goes to the man, one end to a pile of bricks.]] [[The man is standing with wings attached to his arms.]] [[The man flaps the wings, and appears to be floating.]] [[The man glides.]] Man: It works! Woman: Except you have two problems. Man: What? Woman: You used hot glue on your wing joints and you have friends into Greek mythology. Man: Huh? [[Black Hat Guy is standing on the bridge, with a large lamp labeled 'heat lamp' attached to a battery.]] [[The wing segments fall off the man and he tumbles downward.]] {{Title text: Please do not try any of this and die or get arrested.}}

Man #1: It took a lot of work, but this latest Linux patch enables support for machines with 4,096 CPUs, up from the old limit of 1,024. Man #2: Do you have support for smooth full-screen Flash video yet? Man #1: No, but who uses that? [[Man #2 is holding a laptop.]] {{Title text: I hear many of you finally have smooth Flash support, but me and my Intel card are still waiting on a kernel patch somewhere in the pipeline before we can watch Jon Stewart smoothly.}}

[[The panel appears like a news report.]] [[There is a picture of a rocket, captioned 'Breaking news']] News-anchor: Astronomers have confirmed that the asteroid is headed for Earth. News-anchor: NASA has launched a heroic mission to land a rover on the asteroid, drill into it, and destroy it with nuclear bombs. [[The picture of the rocket fills the panel. In an inset picture is the rover.]] [[A woman is sitting at an interface. A man stands next to it. Both are wearing headsets with microphones.]] Woman with headset: The robot has landed successfully and planted the nukes! We're saved! Man with headset: Hooray! Voice: We're heroes! [[Digital countdown.]] 0:05... 0:04... 0:03... [[The Little Prince is looking at the NASA rover, which has drilled into the asteroid. Beside him is the rose, and a small volcano.]] {{Title text: My Deep Impact Little Prince crossover fanfic has been poorly received by the community.}}

[[A bearded man with glasses and a police man are swearing at each other on a stoop.]] [[The bearded man is sitting behind bars.]] [[The President is standing at a podium with a fancy logo on the front.]] President: To defuse this misunderstanding, I've invited both men to have a beer with me at the white house. [[The policeman, the bearded man, and the president are in a room with a couch and an oval carpet.]] [[The president is looking in a cabinet.]] President: Actually, it seems we're out of beer. Voice: Is there anything else? [[The president sees a bottle of Tequila.]] [[The Presidential Limo is being driven at high speed. The bearded man and the policeman are standing out of the sunroof. The policeman is waving his hat and holding the bottle of tequila.]] All: WOOOOOOOOOOOO [[The policeman, the bearded man, and the president are sitting behind bars.]] {{Title text: My biology grad student friends tell me that different types of alcohol don't actually have different effects. I trust their expertise, not because of the 'biology' part, but because of the 'grad student'.}}

[[A man is holding a sheet of paper.]] Man #1: Okay, any other concerns before you sign the lease? Man #2: I'm concerned that we're sitting here like I'm a responsible adult. I'm pretty sure I stopped growing up in my teens and have been faking ever since. Man #2: For god's sake, you're entrusting me with a building . I still make LEGO buildings sometimes. Man #1: Sir, does any of this impact your fulfillment of the lease terms? Man #2: I don't know what you just said because I was thinking about Batman. {{Title text: You should talk to the girl down the hall; I think you'd like her. Lemme know if you find out why she's ordering all those colored plastic balls.}}

[[A man is standing talking to a man in a chair, who is holding a phone.]] Man #1: Did you call that hot girl from the party yet? Man #2: I've been trying. Man #2: It's weird. I swear I got her the first time. But now it says the number's wrong. Man #1: What did you say she did, again? Man #2: Voice work. At Verizon, I think. Man #2: Why? Man #1: No reason. [[A woman is talking into a phone, in an italic voice.]] Woman: We're sorry, your call could not be completed as dialed. Man #2: Damn. <<Click>> Woman: Please check the number and try again. {{Title text: Hobby: seeing how many menu selections you can get someone to go through before they realize you're not an automated system and or hang up.}}

[[A man with a beret and a woman are standing on a boardwalk, leaning on a handrail.]] Man: A woodpecker! <<Pop pop pop>> Woman: Yup. [[The woodpecker is banging its head against a tree.]] Woman: He hatched about this time last year. <<Pop pop pop pop>> [[The woman walks away. The man is still standing at the handrail.]] Man: ... woodpecker? Man: It's your birthday! Man: Did you know? Man: Did... did nobody tell you? [[The man stands, looking.]] [[The man walks away.]] [[There is a tree.]] [[The man approaches the tree with a present in a box, tied up with ribbon.]] [[The man sets the present down at the base of the tree and looks up.]] [[The man walks away.]] [[The present is sitting at the bottom of the tree.]] [[The woodpecker looks down at the present.]] [[The woodpecker sits on the present.]] [[The woodpecker pulls on the ribbon tying the present closed.]] ((full width panel)) [[The woodpecker is flying, with an electric drill dangling from its feet, held by the cord.]] {{Title text: If you don't have an extension cord I can get that too. Because we're friends! Right?}}

Woman: We had a threesome last night. Man: How was it? Woman: Awkward -- it was with a physicist. Man: Why's that awkward? Woman: They can't solve the three-body problem. Man: Ah, yes. {{Title text: I wanted us to try finding an approximate numeric solution, but noooo.}}

[[A man is in a car, talking on his phone.]] Man: I'm just outside town, so I should be there in fifteen minutes. Man: Actually, it's looking more like six days. Man: No, wait, thirty seconds. The author of the Windows file copy dialog visits some friends. {{Title text: They could say "the connection is probably lost," but it's more fun to do naive time-averaging to give you hope that if you wait around for 1,163 hours, it will finally finish.}}

[[A woman is watching TV. The Black Hat Guy is leaning on the back of her chair.]] Woman: I've realized that I always secretly root for hurricanes. I watch the news hoping that they'll get really big and hit a city. I know my hopes don't actually affect it, but I feel bad. Black Hat Guy: Nah, that's just natural human attraction to spectacle. It's like watching the shuttle launch because you don't want to miss it if there's a disaster. Woman: ... I guess? Black Hat Guy: Or dressing as an intern to sneak into operating rooms, in case a patient dies and you can watch them harvest organs. Woman: Wait, you do that? Black Hat Guy: Or stealing detour signs to direct highway drivers downw backwoods roads strewn with caltrops. After the tires burst, you start shooting out their windows. Black Hat Guy: Then, when they flee the car in terror, you hunt them on horseback, like men once did. Woman: I realized a while back that we're having entirely different conversations. {{Title text: Hurricane forums are full of excited comments about central pressure and wind speed and comparisons to Camille and 1931 and 1938, with hastily-tacked-on notes about how it will be tragic if anyone dies and they hope it's a dud.}}

((A thought bubble is shared between the five occupants of a subway car.)) All: Look at these people. Glassy-eyed automatons going about their daily lives, never stopping to look around and think! I'm the only conscious human in a world of sheep. {{Title text: Hey, what are the odds -- five Ayn Rand fans on the same train! Must be going to a convention.}}

[[A man is sitting at a computer.]] <<Click>> Man: Huh. <<Click>> <<Click>> <<Click>> [[The man stares at the computer.]] Man: I never noticed that! <<Click>> Man: Haha, yeah. <<Click>> <<Click>> <<Click>> <<Click>> <<Click>> Man: So true. <<Click>> [[The man stares at the computer.]] [[The man stares at the computer.]] <<Click>> <<Click>> <<Click>> <<Click>> [[The man stares at the computer.]] <<Click>> Voice: Are you in there? Man: Help! Woman: Okay, who linked you to TVTropes? What's with that site? Man: Can't... stop... Woman: It's like Rickrolling, but you're trapped all day. {{Title text: Cracked.com is another inexplicable browser narcotic. They could write a list of '17 worst haircuts in the Ottoman Empire' and I'd read through to the end, then click on all the links at the end.}}

[[There is a sheet of paper, with a series of check boxes. A white rectangle is the focus.]] Do not write in this space. [[A man is standing with a pencil, looking at the page.]] [[The man writes something on the page.]] [[A group of people with helmets, black goggles, and rifles look at display screens. There is a radar system on a table between them.]] [[The screens show sheets of paper. On one screen, it shows the man writing on one.]] [[One of the men arms his weapon.]] <<Cha-click>> {{Title text: 'This space intentionally left blank' is less immediately provocative but more Hofstadterially confusing.}}

I'm glad we're switching to 64-bit, because I wasn't looking forward to convincing people to care about the UNIX 2038 problem. Man #1: What's that? Man #2: Remember Y2K? This could be even worse! {{Title text: If only we'd chosen 1944-12-02 08:45:52 as the Unix epoch, we could've combined two doomsday scenarios into one and added a really boring scene to that Roland Emmerich movie.}}

((A woman is standing. A man sits at a computer.]] Woman: Where've you been all week? Man: Playing Half-Life 2! Woman: ... that came out in 2004. Man: I get games on a five-year lag. That way, I never have to buy a high-end system, but get the same steadily-advancing gaming experience as people who do -- and at a fraction of the price. Man: There are no downsides! Woman: I can think of one ... Early 2013. Man: Guys! Man: The cake is a lie! [[Musical notes surround an italic line, suggesting the man is singing.]] Man: This was a triumph. Man: The cake is a lie! Woman, Man #2: <<Sigh>> {{Title text: I remember trying to log in to the original Command and Conquer servers a year or two back and feeling like I was knocking on the boarded-up gates of a ghost town. }}

My Hobby: Extrapolating [[There is a graph. Time runs along the horizontal axis; Number of Husbands on the vertical graph. Yesterday and today are labeled in time, 0 and 1 in number of husbands. Points are plotted with 0 at yesterday, 1 at today. A straight line is fitted through them.]] [[A man is holding a pointer to the graph, and looking at a woman wearing a dress and veil.]] Man: As you can see, by late next month you'll have over four dozen husbands. Better get a bulk rate on wedding cake. {{Title text: By the third trimester, there will be hundreds of babies inside you.}}

Narrator: I hate how when I'm talking while I type, sometimes I accidentally type a word I'm saying. [[A man is sitting at a computer.]] Computer: Wanna go get food later? [[A woman runs over, holding a giraffe.]] Woman: Check out what I found in the closet! <<Type type>> Man ((typing)): Sorry, I really shouldn't. Man ((talking)): Aww, what an adorable stuffed giraffe! <<Type type>> Man ((typing)): I can't afford to keep eating out this giraffe. Narrator: Frequently! I meant 'frequently'! {{Title text: If this were SMBC, the alt-text drawing thingy would be a giraffe hooker fluttering her eyelashes.}}

Man #1: Idiocracy is so true. Man #2: I know, right? It used to be that the intelligent, upper classes had more children. Man #2: Sadly, the recent reversal of this trend has dragged IQ scores and average education steadily downward. Man #1: Depressing, huh? Man #2: Yeah, except everything I just said was wrong. Man #1: Huh? Man #2: Wrong. False. The opposite of true. Man #2: Your'e like the religious zealots who are burdened by their superiority with the sad duty of decrying the obvious moral decay of each new generation. Man #2: And you're just as wrong. Man #1: But look at how popular -- Man #2: More harm has been done by people panicked over societal decline than societal decline ever did. Man #1: Look -- all we need is a program that limits breeding to -- [[The second man is walking off panel.]] Man #2: New theory: Stupid people reproduce more because the alternative is sleeping with you . {{Title text: People aren't going to change, for better or for worse. Technology's going to be so cool. All in all, the future will be okay! Except climate; we fucked that one up.}}

[[There is a group of people. Three women and four men. They are standing around a table with a drink on it.]] Man #3: Have you seen John lately? Woman #3: He and Claire blew off this party to see Jeff. Man #4: They do that a lot. Man #1: Yeah; I don't know what his problem is with hanging out lately. Man #3: He's like Katie - ever noticed how she only goes somewhere if Jeff's there? Somebody: It's so lame how s he hangs around him even when he's not single: Somebody: HE LIKES IT. Somebody: SOMEONE SERIOUSLY NEEDS TO DATE HER. Somebody: TOTALLY. Somebody: And honestly I feel like a jerk but I wouldn't mind if she hung around with us a little less. She needs other friends, you know! [[Man #2 is cringing away from all the text; none of the word is attributed to specific people.]] [[Man #2 peels a hole in the panel. The numbers '1', '2', and '3' are visible through the gap.]] Somebody: HAVE YOU NOTICED HOW EVERY DUDE SHE DATES IS A TOTAL DRUGGIE? Somebody: I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought that was weird. Somebody: Michelle dates potheads like Elaine but at least they both have real jobs. Somebody: Michelle does? She designs those book covers, right? Somebody: And it's not like she smokes a lot. Somebody: Elaine is one of those girls who [[The previous panel's text appears again, but peeled back even further. Man #2 looks up.]] 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 [[The man starts taking down the prime numbers.]] 1 4 6 8 9 10 12 14 15 2 3 5 7 11 13 [[The man grabs and squeezes the 2, so it is half as wide and twice as tall.]] [[A formula: \Sum_{i=1}^{\infty}{1 P_i} = h]] [[ie. The sum from 1 to infinity of the inverse of each prime.]] [[The panel shows a 2 that is 2 units tall and 1 2 wide, a 3 that is 3 units tall and 1 3 wide, and so on. The man is moving the 7.]] [[Man #2 writes h = infinity. The numbers are piled on their side next to a scale.]] Voice: Don't you agree? Voice: Hey, wake up. Man #1: You zoned out or something. Man #2: Sorry; I must be... tired. Man #1: I don't blame you. All day cooped up working on papers. Man #3: Must be nice to get out and relax, huh? Man #2: Yeah. [[Girl #3 reaches for the glass on the table.]] {{Title text: My favorite thing to do at parties is to talk judgementally about people who aren't there.}}

[[A man is sitting at a computer. The text appearing is implied to be what he sees on the screen.]] A.I. Loaded >>> Analyze love [[An hourglass appears over the computer.]] [[The hourglass continues to display.]] Computer: A strange game. The only winning move is not to play. {{Title text: Wait, no, that one also loses. How about a nice game of chess?}}

[[Two couples meet.]] Woman #2: I thought your android girlfriend was cool so I got myself an android boyfriend. Woman #2: He's really great. I like how -- Woman #2: Uh. [[Woman #1, the android girlfriend, rushes over to Man #2, the android boyfriend.]] <<Zip>> Voice: Mmmmm... [[Man #1 and Woman #2 look at something which is off the panel.]] Man #1: ... Huh. Woman #2: It's like somebody stuck a vibrator in a fleshlight. <<Whirrr> Voice: Mmmm <<Click>> {{Title text: Which is, coincidentally, the most unsettling mantlepiece decoration in my house.}}

[[An apocalyptic scene. Flaming balls rain down on a darkened landscape. The sky is red.]] Man with beret: The Apocalypse! The skies burn, the seas turn to blood, and the dead walk the Earth! Man #1: The dead what? Man with beret: Walk the Earth! Man #1: I have to go. [[Man #1 sits down at a table to write. A series of formulas floats above his head.]] <<Scribble>> <<Scribble>> [[Sum for i = 0 to n of i to the power h times 1 over i.]] [[Square root of 163.]] [[log(n).]] [[The man runs with paper and pencil.]] [[The man goes through a door marked "Math Dep't".]] Man #1: The dead return! Man #1: Everyone, quick, get your names on here! [[5 people line up. The first in line is signing the paper.]] Woman #1: At last. Man #2: I hope there's time! [[Man #1 runs on, holding paper and pencil.]] [[The man approaches a sign that says "Cemetery".]] Voice: Hurrghhh [[The man approaches a half-open grave, with a dirty man climbing out.]] [[The man in the grave looks up.]] Man #1: Paul Erdös? Paul Erdös: Yes? Man #1: We need you to sign this. {{Title text: I wonder if I still have time to go shoot a short film with Kevin Bacon.}}

[[A man is hunched up at a computer. A circle surrounds him; the rest of the panel is black.]] Narrator: I shouldn't have watched all that porn as a teenager. Narrator: It's not that it scarred me. [[The computer screen is visible. It shows an online video player, with what appears to be someone performing cunnilingus. Ads are also visible, though what they depict is not.]] Narrator: It's just that we had dial-up. [[A 14.4kbps modem is shown.]] Narrator: And now I'm stuck with a fetish. Narrator: For video compression. [[A man and a woman are in bed together.]] Man: Can you try to look... blockier? {{Title text: I have a thing for corrupt women.}}

[[A man is typing at a computer.]] Computer: Constant novelty saps my initiative. I'm gonna try to spend a weekend at home without internet. Man: I give you an hour. [[A woman stands up, turns off the computer in front of her.]] <<Click>> [[The woman stands proudly in front of the computer.]] [[The man is at his computer.]] Computer: So far, it's not actually too bad! Man: Ahem? Computer: Wait. Shit. {{Title text: But if you unplug everything, it gets so quiet you hear that high-pitched empty-room hum. And then the whispers begin.}}

[[The Black Hat Guy is holding a phone up to someone.]] Black Hat Guy: We're in a narrow window in which people are using Google Latitude, but haven't learned the habit of turning it off when they're doing something discreetly. Black Hat Guy: I wrote an app to log friends' locations and work out addresses and business names. [[A timetable is visible. Each column represents a different person.]] [[First column: Megan.]] 11:00AM Home 12:30PM Eastview Adult Toy Store 1:30PM Home 2:00PM Laketown Sex Toy Shop 2:30PM Home 3:00PM Fry's Electronics 3:30PM Ed's Power Tool Emporium 4:00PM Home 4:10PM Hospital Burn Ward [[Second column: Rober - the rest of the name is cut off, as well as the end nof each entry.]] 12:30PM Home 2:00PM Schoo 3:30PM Subwa {{Title text: The G1, especially with the new Android upgrade, is way better than I originally thought.}}

[[A couple and a man face each other. The man is holding something.]] Man with android: Check out my new android girlfriend. Man #2: Is she a sex bot? [[The android grabs the cherry out of the man's hand.]] [[The android pulls the stem off.]] <<Plink>> [[The android puts the stem in its mouth.]] <<Nom>> [[There is a bright flash around the android's mouth. The rest of the panel is dark.]] Man #2: I don't think arc-welding a cherry stem counts as sexy. Android: Remove your pants. Man #2: No. {{Title text: Programming the sexbots to enjoy sex seemed a sensible move at the time, but we didn't realize the consequences of their developing fetishes.}}

Voice: Ugh. Stupid uterus. Man: Hey, your period is every 28 days, right? Voice: Yes, why? Man: Well, preiod = T = 1 f. Voice: So? Man: Using this, we can calculate something you already know. Voice: What? Man: Your uterus-hertz. Voice: If I could get up I'd smack you. {{Title text: 413 nanohertz, by the way.}}

[[Weird root vegetables surround a strange script.]] [[Woman holding up book.]] Woman: This is the Voynich manuscript -- a book, allegedly 500 years old, written in an unrecognized script. It's some kind of visual encyclopedia of imaginary plants and undeciphered "recipes". [[The man opens the book.]] Woman: It could be a hoax, a lost language, a cipher, an alien text, glossolatia -- no one knows. Man: No one? But it's obvious. Woman: ... Obvious? Linguists and cryptographers have been stumped for decades. Man: They forget. Human nature doesn't change. Man: Just imagine someone found a book from _our_ time, full of lists, illustrations, tables, and long, dry descriptions of nonexistent worlds written in an invented language. What have they found? Woman: ... Dear Lord. It is obvious. 500 Years Earlier: [[Three people are standing around pawns and a die. One is holding a sheet of paper, another is holding a book, the third is holding a scythe.]] Person #1: Forsooth! I concoct an elixir of courage. Person #2: Nae! The source booke sayeth that requires some wolfsbane! Person #3: Your druid doth lose two points. {{Title text: Wait, is that the ORIGINAL voynich manuscript? Where did you GET that? Wanna try playing a round of Druids and Dicotyledons?}}

[[Three people are sitting together.]] Woman: Man, sex has all these crazy social rules. They just create drama. Man #2: Let's agree to change them, and make sex simple! Man #1: Okay! Man: Hooray! We've solved the problem of drama! Man: I'll go tell everyone! [[The man opens a door.]] [[There is a graph, showing time vs. drama. A vertical dotted line indicates the rule change. Drama is low before the line, then steadily increases afterward.]] [[The man closes and leans against the door.]] Man: Holy shit Man: Guys Man: People are complicated! {{Title text: This happens in geek circles every so often. The 'Hey, this is just a system I can figure out easily!' is also a problem among engineers first diving into the stock market.}}

[[A website where people can post comments along side pictures.]] ((Next to a picture of a website.)) Hey, let's troll the fuck out of the Twilight boards. ((Next to a picture of some people)) I'm in. Should be fun. ((Next to a picture of a man with sword and trumpet)) Me too. Signing on now. ((Next to a picture of "LOL")) Lol angsty teens. Hours Later: [[Stephenie Meyer, at a computer.]] Stephenie Meyer: Hi, it's Stephenie Meyer. Fine, you don't like my books. But please leave us alone. Computer (Nerd): Show us your tits. Stephenie Meyer: I asked politely. Don't make me get tough. [[Pimply nerd at computer.]] Nerd: And what, call the internet police? You don't get it, do you? We've been trolling for years. We're all anonymous. There's nothing you can do to hurt us. We're the net's hate machine. Computer (Stephenie): Okay. Just remember, I gave you a chance. <<Disconnected>> Six Months Later [[A page from a book.]] Vampires! Book VI Edward ran a pale hand through his perfect golden-bronze hair, then signed on to 4chan.org, the darkest place on the internet, where all his vampire compatriots spent their time. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door [...] swept in [...] ing [[The rest of the page is cut off.]] Shortly Thereafter: [[On the same website as the first panel.]] ((Next to a picture of two people hugging)) OMG I love this place it's so edgy being anonymous. (next to a picture of "DAWNE") Whos your favorite vampire (next to a picture of someone with black hair and shirt) Check out my pic Im so dark just like this site (Next to a picture of a chess piece) Any Twilight fans in Dallas want to meet a lonely (...) [[The same nerd at his computer.]] Nerd: Oh... Oh God. {{Title text: We have met the enemy and he is us.}}

My Hobby: Getting typography geeks heartfelt cards printed in "papyrus" and watching them struggle to act grateful. Woman: Thank you for the <<Twitch>> ... lovely... <<Twitch>> birthday card! [[The woman is holding a card open and looking at someone. An angry tic is flicking on her forehead.]] {{Title text: I secretly, deep in my guilty heart, like Papyrus and don't care if it's overused. [Cue hate mail in beautifully-kerned Helvetica.]}}

[[Four people are outside a bar.]] Man #1: Wait, who's driving? Man #2: Why? Man #2: Tom, right? Man #1: Yes, but we have to leave in two groups. One of which will need at least two drivers. [[There is a complicated flowchart with arrows between a group of people and 3 locations, labeled 'bar', 'dinner', and 'party'. Lines point from the group of people to the bar, then to the party or dinner, then from dinner to the party and vice versa, as well as leaving the panel or entering the panel in several other directions.]] Narrator: Someone has to get Paul, and Julia and Emily have to leave by 10:00. Narrator: The logistics of who can get drunk are nontrivial. [[The third man has an animal on a string behind him, which was previously not visible.]] Man #3: Yeah, and I can't ride in a car with the wolf because he'll eat my goat. Man #1: Dammit, guys. {{Title text: Calling a cab means cutting into beer money.}}

[[A cheerleader stands in front of crowded bleachers.]] [[The cheerleader is waving pompoms.]] Cheerleader: Lakeview High is the best! Crowd: Yeah! Someone: Wait, why? Cheerleader: What? Voice: A guy on the North High football team helped me rebuild my deck. Voice: It seems ungrateful to presume we're better. Voice: I mean, school districts are just based on zip codes. Voice #2: Their principal donated a kidney to my dad. Voice: I'm texting with my friend there now. He says it's okay, and we're invited to their events if we want. Voice: But he sounded kind of hurt. Voice #2: Why are we doing this, rally, again? [[The cheerleader looks dejected.]] {{Title text: You know, pep rallies weirded me out in high school, and they've only gotten creepier in retrospect.}}

[[A crime scene is surrounded in tape. A large black pool is on the ground, with splashes around it, and some sort of tool. Two people are standing outside the tape.]] Policeman: Looks like a murder-suicide. George: Any interesting mathematical patterns? Policeman: No, George, just two dead bodies and a lot of blood. George: Two... that's the third Fibonacci number! Policeman: Not now, George. When Mathnet shut down, the officers had trouble reintegrating into the regular L.A.P.D. {{Title text: I think I see a Mandelbrot set! No, that's just blood splatters. Golly.}}

[[A man is pulling a woman by the legs. She is holding onto the ground.]] Man: We're getting some culture in you if it kills you. Woman: Don't wanna. [[The man is pushing the woman through a door.]] Man: All you listen to is techno. Woman: But... the symphony? [[The couple stand in line between other people.]] Woman: I think we're the only people here under 60. Man: Shhh. Woman: The right side is definitely better. Man: Better? Woman: They've all got bigger instruments. I bet they make more money. Man: <<Sigh>> {{Title text: It can't be very MUCH money ... they apparently can't even afford a sampler. I mean, with a little remixing, some of this could be kinda good!}}

[[A group of scientists with goggles and labcoats stand around a pair of beakers.]] Scientist: The tracking tag will record the shark's movement and habits. [[The capsule floats upward.]] Scientist: Then, it will pop free and float to the surface. [[A coast is shown, with arrows directed from water to land.]] Scientist: We can't afford a recovery program, so the capsules will inflate helium balloons, drift over land, Scientist: And hopefully be found and mailed to us. Any questions? [[The capsule has a caption on it.]] If found please call [[The scientist is standing over a groggy shark.]] <<Chunk>> [[The shark is dropped off a boat, into the water.]] <<Sploosh>> Shark: !!! [[The course of the shark is shown, weaving around islands.]] [[The capsule is shown stickign out of the shark.]] <<Click>> [[The capsule remains attached to the shark.]] [[The balloon starts to inflate, still attached to the shark and underwater.]] <<Hissss>> [[As the balloon inflates, it starts to pull the shark to the surface.]] Shark: ?? [[The balloon breaks the surface, pulling the shark with it.]] [[A man and a child are standing together.]] [[Two scientists run past, screaming. One is holding a microscope.]] Scientists: AAAAAAAA [[A shark attached to a huge balloon floats past following the scientists.]] Shark: <<Chomp chomp>> Child: Daddy? Father: Yes? Child: I want to be a scientist. {{Title text: Completely implausible? Yes. Nevertheless, worth keeping a can of shark repellent next to the bed.}}

[[A blonde and a man are holding hands, looking at another woman with black hair.]] ((Two arrows direct the comic into a pair of different paths.)) ((Left path.)) [[The man is holding hands with the blonde woman, but he is thinking about the woman with black hair.]] ((Right path.)) [[The man approaches the woman with black hair. He is thinking about the blonde.]] ((Left path.)) [[The man is performing oral sex on the blonde, and still thinking about the woman with black hair.]] ((Right path.)) [[The man and the black-haired woman have sex on the arm of a chair. The man is thinking about the blonde.]] ((Left path.)) [[The man and the woman are drawing something together, and the man is thinking about the woman with black hair.]] ((Right path.)) [[The man and woman are hiking together. The man is thinking about the blonde woman.]] ((Left path.)) [[The man and the woman are holding hands, and the man is thinking of the woman with black hair.]] ((Right path.)) [[The man and the woman are holding hands, and the man is thinking of the blonde woman.]] ((The path unites again.)) [[Two gravestones are next to each other. One of them is thinking about a third gravestone.]] {{Title text: Forever comparing, never evaluating on any external scale. If you were a sort function, you'd never break the nlogn barrier.}}

[[A woman is sitting at a computer.]] Speech2Text Commander Bug #167801 Speech recognition fails on young child voices. Woman: Hmm. [[The view enlarges to show a man sitting at another desk.]] Woman: Hey, can you do me without a condom? We need a young child for something. Man: Okay. [[A pregnancy test is displayed. The label indicates not pregnant.]] [[The woman is at the computer again.]] Bug #167801 Status: Closed Reason: Could not reproduce. {{Title text: Can't and shouldn't.}}

Narrator: Of the potential responses to my brakes' failure, I did not choose the best. [[A cliff is visible, with a car flying off it.]] Voice from car: Hello, you're on Car Talk. {{Title text: It was the funniest 6.5 seconds of my life, although as usual like 80% of it was just Tom and Ray's gasping, hacking laughter.}}

Of the potential responses to my brakes' failure, I did not choose the best. [[A car, in silhouette, is sailing off the edge of a cliff. The voice comes from a phone inside the car.]] Voice: Hello, you're on Car talk. {{Title text: It was the funniest 6.5 seconds of my life, although as usual like 80% of it was just Tom and Ray's gasping, hacking laughter.}}

[[Randall xkcd man and Nathan Fillion are ready on the start line on their electric skateboards]] Voice off panel: On your mark... Voice: Get set... Nathan: Remember episode 11, when I got all naked in that desert? Voice: Go! [[Nathan speeds away leaving Randall standing at the start line]] voice: ... I said "Go." voice: someone throw some water on him Randall: Can't...get it...out of my head... [[Nathan on walkie talkie, speeding on his skateboard]] Nathan: He's right behind me. Kaylee, I'm gonna try a Crazy Ivan. Kaylee [[on walkie talkie]]: That doesn't make any sense, Nathan. Nathan: Trust me. Kaylee: No, I mean it's not a skateboard maneuver[sic]. The concept doesn't even apply to this situation. Nathan [[via walkie talkie]]: That's why it just might work! Kaylee: No, that's the opposite of true! Nathan: On my mark, override the remote differential and throw her into a spin. Kaylee [[via walkie talkie]] okay, but- Nathan: Mark! <<WHAM>> [[Nathan lying injured on the ground next to his skateboard, Randall Man cruises past]] <<Whirrrrrrrr>> [[Nathan, trying to stand up]] Nathan: I'm down. Tell Summer "The chickens are in the hayloft. Plan Gamma is a go." [[Nathan, one foot on skateboard, looking at walkie talkie]] <<mumbling from walkie talkie>> Kaylee: She says, "Plan gamma acknowledged. The meerkats are in the bad. [[Summer Glau is walking off panel]] Kaylee [[to walkee talkie]]: So we're good? Nathan: Hard to tell with her. Do you see an actual bag of meerkats? Kaylee: No. Nathan: Then we're probably good. [[Randall Man screeching to a halt as he sees Summer Glau]] Randall: Oh! Hi, Miss Glau! I'd love to talk, but Nathan's back on his feet and catching up. [[Summer grabs Randalls arm]] <<Grab>> Randall: Wha- [[Summer kicks Randall in the face whilst pulling his arm towards her, he flies off his skateboard]] [[Summer walking away as Randall lies crippled on the floor with his sunglasses beside him]] [[Randall still lying on the floor]] Randall [[thinking]]: I've never been so turned on in my life. {{Alt text: Things are rarely just crazy enough to work, but they're frequently just crazy enough to fail hilariously. Title: The Race: Part 4. Comic: xkcd. Tags: firefly, nathan fillion, summer glau, crazy ivan, serenity, whedon}}

[[Malcolm, Munrovian Male, and Summer Glau standing around with electric skateboards]] Malcolm Reynolds: meet a few of my friends. this is- Male: Summer Glau! you were the best part of Chronicles. Summer: I eat my bodyweight in food every 31 days. that's slightly faster than the human average. [[Summer stares off into space]] Malcom: yeah, there's a reason she only plays strange roles. Male: Ah. Summer (offscreen): I'm part of the floor now. [[They find Jewel Staite working on a skateboard's engine]] Malcolm: and this is Kaylee. Jewel: my name is Jewel, Nathan. Malcolm: Kaylee- Jewel: Jewel. Malcolm Jewel is fixin' up my new board. Jewel: almost done! Male: so wait. Summer's actually weird, Jewel's actually a mechanical whiz... Male: ...will Morena Baccarin be here? is she really a- Malcolm and Jewel: NO. [[Setting up for the race]] Malcolm: Kaylee, I've been gunnin' the radio hand throttle thingy for a while, but it ain't movin' Jewel: oh, I must've set it to the wrong frequency! Male (riding around on haywire board): AAAAAAAA {{title text: No, the best things about The Sarah Connor Chronicles were: (1) watching Sarah and Cameron try to pass for normal, and (2) Cameron throwing people and things through walls. Everything else was pretty secondary.}}

[[Man with skateboard and gear and woman are talking]] Man: "Why race him?" He's Captain Reynolds! Woman: Mr. Fillion is an actor. Firefly was years ago. [[They go over to a computer; the man is using a phone and presumably looking up a phone number]] Woman: He has his own life to live, and I'm sure the last thing he wants to do is indulge a fan by playing Mal for him. [[Nathan Fillion is standing in front of a mirror in a trenchcoat]] Nathan: (into the mirror) Name's Captain Reynolds, ma'am. *ahem* Name's Captain Reynolds, ma'am. Someone offpanel: Nathan? Telephone! Nathan: That's Captain! Someone offpanel: Fine, Captain Nathan. Nathan: No, use my space name! Someone offpanel: *sigh* [[Nathan and the skateboarder talk on the phone]] Skateboarder: So, how about we race for charities? Nathan: Sure. Always did want a charity of my own. Text between them: Come again? Nathan: You know, boxes in supermarkets collecting food. 'Course, ought to tack up a list sayin' which wines I like best... Skateboarder: Uh, that's not quite... Nathan: Listen, I'm the captain here. Skateboarder: ...I just got goosebumps when you said that. Nathan: Yeah, happens to me too whenever I get captainy. I cut such a strapping figure. Buckle! Swash! All right, let's do this race. {{title text: The Hammer + Captain Tightpants == Captain Hammerpants?}}

Huh, cool. Nathan Fillion (Mal from Firefly) has an electric skateboard. Just like you! Did you hear that? Nathan- I heard. Gimme the computer. I need to book a flight. To be continued...

[[A dude is sitting at his computer.]] Man: I love getting pacakges. [[A woman enters.]] Man: I set up a script to search eBay et. al. (sic) for $1 items with free shipping. [[The man checks his doorstop; a package is waiting for him.]] Man: I gave it $365, so each day it can buy me something random. Woman: What if you just end up with lots of crap? Man: I'll give it away. But I'm sure I'll end up with some interesting stuff. [[Day 1: Length of rubber hose]] Man: Could be handy around the house. [[Day 2: Ski mask]] Man: It's spring, but hey. [[Day 3: Bear trap]] Man: Huh. [[Day 4: Tourist map of the Pentagon]] Woman: Uh oh. [[Day 5: Lube]] Man: I'm stopping this before I end up on every F.B.I. watch list ever. {{alt-text: Day six: 'The hell? Who mails a bobcat?'}}

Guy: So you can come up with a song title fitting any tag combination? Girl: Try me. Guy: Lesbian voyeurism one-hit wonder mash-up. Girl: "I wish that Stacey's Mom had Jessie's Girl." <<silence>> Guy: Well, that was one, but- Girl: "When you Come On Eileen I touch myself." Guy: Okay, wow. {{Title-text: I love Eileen and want you to love her When you're around I'm one floor above her If you could see just how much I adore her Oh, that pretty red dress I'd do anything for her (Too ra loo ra too ra loo rye ayy)}}

Twitter is great for watching uninformed panics unfold live. [[Twitter search results page with "Swine flu" in the search box]] Realtime results for Swine flu 1,918 more results since you started searching. Refresh to see. {{All tweets are "Less than 10 seconds ago from web"}} SKEEVE37: Oh God I ate pork yesterday before I knew about swine flu! HANNELOREEC: Without duct tape I can't seal the door to keep out swine flu but I can't get duct tape without going outside! Help! PAULYSHOREFAN: How long until the swine flu reaches me here in Madagascar? CRACKMONKEY74: Swine flu is God's punishment for the ACLU and lesbians and 9 11 and nanobots! TWILIGHT7531: I fell down the stairs and there was a crack and a jagged white thing is sticking out of my arm guys is this swine flu? WIGU: @UNTOWARD: No, that sounds like syphilis, not swine flu. What did you say you did with a pig? 2011SENIORSRULE: My Dad said flu vaccines are linked to autism, so to be safe from swine flu I'm trying to lick an autistic kid. {{title text: Bad flu epidemics can hit young adults hardest because they provoke their powerful immune systems into overreaction, so to stay healthy spend the next few weeks drunk and sleep-deprived to keep yours suppressed.}}

The Future [[Man is sitting at a futuristic desktop computer, and a girl is standing behind him with a portable ultra-thin screen]] Girl: Hey dad, look at this old music video. Video: We're no strangers to love... Dad: Wow, you got me. Girl: Did your generation really use this to troll people? SO lame. Your generation sucked at pranks. Dad: Did we? I once raised a kid with conditioning so her speech centers shut down when she was upset. Girl: What? No, you couldn't have bleegle warble yargle arggh! Dad: Teehee! {{title-text: They'll pick music and culture that they know annoys you. Building in behavioral easter eggs is a fair retaliation!}}

[[A male and female are running in a field, holding hands. Another male and female stand in the background, next to a table.]] [[The man and woman are in a boat on a lake, very romantic. The man is speaking to the woman, illustrated with a heart.]] [[The man and woman sit together on a bench on a beach, watching the sunset.]] [[The man and woman stand at an altar. They have married.]] [[The man and woman, having grown old together, sit together on their doorstep, holding hands.]] [[The man begins walking away with his cane.]] Woman: Dear? Where are you--Come back! [[The man approaches the other couple from the first panel, who are now just as old.]] [[The man picks up a piece of paper from the table in the first panel and begins to write.]] Man: Okay, [[The paper is shown: a scavenger hunt list. "Happiness" has just been checked off.]] Man: What's next? [[Full list: SCAVENGER HUNT: [X] Indian-head penny [X] Snake skin [X] Happiness [ ] Four-leaf clover [ ] Shark tooth [...] ]] {{Alt text: This scavenger hunt is getting boring. Let's go work on the treehouse!}}

[[Someone is in bed, presumably trying to sleep. The top of each panel is a thought bubble showing sheep leaping over a fence.]] 1 ... 2 ... <<baaa>> [[Two sheep are jumping from left to right.]] ... 1,306 ... 1,307 ... <<baaa>> [[Two sheep are jumping from left to right. The would-be sleeper is holding his pillow.]] ... 32,767 ... -32,768 ... <<baaa>> <<baaa>> <<baaa>> <<baaa>> <<baaa>> [[A whole flock of sheep is jumping over the fence from right to left. The would-be sleeper is sitting up.]] Sleeper: ? ... -32,767 ... -32,766 ... <<baaa>> [[Two sheep are jumping from left to right. The would-be sleeper is holding his pillow over his head.]] {{Title text: If androids someday DO dream of electric sheep, don't forget to declare sheepCount as a long int.}}

Person 1: When'd you get the car? Person 2: It's the darndest thing. We bought it as a prize for the 100,000,000th visitor to our website. Person 1: And they didn't want it? Person 2: Apparently. Person 1: Maybe they didn't see the notice. Person 2: It was flashing and everything! Person 1: How bizarre. {{title text: Somewhere out there is a company that has actually figured out how to enlarge penises, and it's helpless to reach potential customers.}}

[[Two stick figures stand on a hill overlooking a great city. Between them and the city stands an embassy flying a red flag.]] THREE YEARS AGO, THE KINGDOM OF LIATE OVERTHREW THEIR OLD ORDER AND ESTABLISHED A CONSTITUTIONAL MONARCHY. OUR LEADERS SIGNED A TREATY WITH THEIR QUEEN, AND OUR BORDERS WERE SET BY THE YABRIS ACCORDS. MANY SAID WAR WOULD BE UNENDING, THAT PEACE WOULD ALWAYS BE A DREAM DEFERRED. BUT TODAY, OUR FLAG FLIES PROUDLY OVER OUR EMBASSY IN THEIR KINGDOM, AND THEY WALK OUR LANDS WITHOUT FEAR. SO COME, TRAVELER. LAY DOWN YOUR GRUDGES AND JOIN US IN BROTHERHOOD. IT IS TIME NOT TO FIGHT, BUT TO LIVE. [[Stick figure sitting at computer]] THIS IS THE WORST CAPTURE-THE-FLAG SERVER EVER. {{title text: Eventually a UN is set up. And then a lone rebel runs down the line of flags in front of it, runs back to his base, and gets a kajillion points.}}

[[People are lined up by a well. A sign says "The Uncomfortable Truths Well." The first person in line drops in a coin.]] Well: Science may discover immortality, but it won't happen in the next eighty years. [[The next person drops in a coin.]] Well: You'll never find a programing language that frees you from the burden of clarifying your ideas. Programmer: But I know what I mean! [[The next person drops in a coin.]] Well: You avoid your friend Mike because you're uncomfortably attracted to him. Person: Nice try, Mike. Person: Get out of the well. Well Mike: Aww. {{Title text: But I've made $13.72 already today! Ow, stop throwing pennies.}}

[[Guy steps out of rift. Benjamin Franklin is sitting at his desk with quill and parchment.]] Guy: Benjamin Franklin? Franklin: Yes? Guy: I bring a message from the future! I don't have much time. Franklin: What is it? Guy: The convention you're setting for electric charge is backward. The one left on glass by silk should be the negative charge. {{Caption: We were going to use the time machine to prevent the robot apocalypse, but the guy who built it was an electrical engineer.}} {{Mouseover: Sure, we could stop dictators and pandemics, but we could also make the signs on every damn diagram make sense.}}

Narrator: Today was the ten-year anniversary of the release of 'The Matrix'. I sat down to watch it again. Woman: Holy Fuck, ten years ago? {{Replay of various scenes from The Matrix..}} [[Scene 1]] Morpheus: Unfortunately, no one can explain what the matrix is. You have to see it for yourself. Trinity (correcting Morpheus): Sure you can. It's a computer simulation in which you live, thinking it's reality. Neo: Oh. Trinity (to Morpheus, who is glaring at her): ... What? Look, maybe you just suck at explaining. [[Scene 2]] Morpheus (to Neo): ...Or you take the red pill, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. [[Neo takes BOTH pills from Morpheus...]] [[Neo crushes both the red and blue pills into purple powder on a table top...]] [[Neo snorts the purple powder...]] [[Morpheus and Neo are shown upside down in a frame with inverted colors, i.e., black background with white lines]] Morpheus: NOW look what you've done. Neo: Where are we? Morpheus: I have no idea. [[Scene 3]] [[Neo, wearing the long black trench coat, at a metal detector, is accosted by the security guard.]] Guard: Please remove any keys, metallic items, weapons-- [[Neo opens his trench coat, his back to the reader, towards the guard, who is facing the reader. The reader can't see what Neo has under his coat.]] [[Same scene as above, but side view: Neo, on the left, is opening his coat toward the guard, who is on the right. Nobody speaks.]] [[Side view again.]] Guard: Eww. {{End of scene replays}} [[View of room, where three characters have obviously just finished watching The Matrix. Man1 is sitting on the floor nearest to the TV. Woman is sitting on the floor, farther from the TV. Man2 is sitting on a chair, farthest from the TV.]] Man1: I forgot how good that movie was. Man2: Wanna put on the other two? [[Man1 has turned to face Woman. They exchange looks without speaking.]] [[View of room, which is now empty, as is the chair.]] <<Sounds from off panel: Crash Wham Someone saying "Ow! Ow!">> [[Man1 and Woman are back in the room, but the chair is still empty. Man2 is nowhere to be seen.]] Man1: I forgot how good that movie was. Woman: Too bad they never made any sequels. Man1: True.

[[A male stick figure sits at a computer.]] Computer Screen: "-Email Account Setup- To verify your identity, we need to ask you a question nobody else could answer." Computer Screen: "Q: Where are the bodies buried? A:" {{A text field is shown with "Behind the" typed.}} [[Three stick figures, two wearing police hats and one wearing headphones, watch another computer.]] {{The same text field is shown with "Behind the ... nice try." typed.}} Figure in Headphones: Damn. {{Title Text: "Let's invite him to a party and play 'I never'. Okay, I never hid any bodies SOUTH of Main Street. ... he's taking a drink!"}}

[[Man 1 is pulling a crossbow out of a desk]] Man 1: Why do you have a crossbow in your desk? Woman (off-screen): You _don't_? [[Woman is on panel]] Man 1 (off-screen): No -- why would... Woman: You _are_ studying the consequences of Higgs excitation, aren't you? Like the rest of the lab? [[Two men, both holding crossbows, joing the woman on panel]] Man 1: Yes, but why-- Man 2: Maybe he's slow with the math. Woman: Well, he has until Tuesday. Man 2: Poor guy. {{Alt-Text: I hate being the slowest guy in the lab}}

Pd Regional Population Density (e.g. 18,600 mi^2) Xf Average Person's Frequency of Sex (e.g. 80 Year) Xd Average Duration of Se (e.g. 30 Minutes) r=sqrt(2 pi*Pd*Xr*Xd) On average, someone within distance r of you is having sex [[Man standing at easel]] Man: Mmm, That probable couple 150 meters away is so hot. Oh yeah, theoretically work it, baby. From out of frame: Hey! No statistical voyeurism! {{Alt Text: I love how google handles dimensional analysis. Stats are ballpark and vary wildly based on time of day and whether your mom is in town.}}

[[Hat guy is in a car driving around a parking lot]] [[Hat guy's car pulls up next to a red car, that's parked over a line at an angle that block two spaces]] [[Hat guy gets out of his car]] <<SLAM>> [[Hat guy is now holding a flamethrower and a rotary saw, He's also wearing goggles and fuel tanks on his back. The flamethrower is lit]] <<Fwoosh>> [[The badly parked car has been cut in half along a diagonal, and the half of the car that was in the second slot has been moved into the same slot as the rest of the car. Hat guy's car occupies the newly freed space.]] {{Alt Text: Police reported three dozen cheerful bystanders, yet no one claims to have seen who did it.}}

[[A sign sits by a well]] Sign: The Uncomfortable Truths Well [[A guy and a girl are lined up for the well; the guy throws a coin in]] Well: For a universe that's supposed to be half Chinese, Firefly sure doesn't have any Asians. [[The guy is gone, a couple arrives behind the girl from the previous pane; the girl throws a coin in]] Well: There's no solid evidence DVORAK's better than QWERTY. The standard histories are urban legends. [[Just the couple remain; the boyfriend throws another coin in]] Well: You've never said "I love you" and meant it. It was always just words. [[The girlfriend now throws in a coin]] Well: You meant it every time. {{title text: I'll concede ergonomics anecdotally, but none of the studies of Dvorak were at all rigorous (the most-cited Navy study was overseen by Dvorak himself), and QWERTY had a lot of fair competition. And the 'slow typists down' thing is basically a myth. Also EMACS RULES WOOOOOOO!}}

Timeline of Commercial Uses of Lithium Batteries: [[The panel has a timeline that goes from Past to Present. The timeline has 4 notches on it]] Past [[the first notch, closest to the past side, has a picture of an old man with a walking stick]] Pacemakers [[The second notch has an image of a man in a car, who is talking on his cell phone]] Phones for Rich Business People [[The third notch, has a teen taking on his cellphone]] Phones for Teenagers [[The forth notch, closest to the present on the timeline, hac an image of a toy plane box with $10 written on it]] Really cheap r c planes and helicopters Present [[Below the main panel]] Life would be so much better if I was one of those people who aged backward. {{Title text: I'm normally a pretty frugal person, but I still compulsively buy any R C aircraft that's less than $30. In the last few years, this has become a problem.}}

My Hobby: Appending "no pun intended" to lines with no pun in them. [[Random guy is talking to a guy with a beret]] Random guy: I think he's internalized his girlfriend's attitudes - no pun intended - and so... {{Three hours later:}} [[Beret guy is thinking]] Beret guy: "Internalized?" Lied? Analyzed? Or is it "attitudes"? Dammit. {{alt: Like spelling 'dammit' correctly -- with two m's -- it's a troll that works best on the most literate.}}

Dishonest: [[woman sitting behind desk]] sign: bailout: $170 billion; bonuses: $165 million Honest: [[woman sitting behind desk]] sign: bailout: $170,000 million; bonuses: $165 million Dear news organizations: stop giving large numbers without context or proper comparison. The difference between a million and a billion is the difference between a sip of wine and 30 seconds with your daughter, and a bottle of gin and a night with her. {{Alt-text: And 0.002 dollars will NEVER equal 0.002 cents.}}

[[A teacher speaks in a crowded classroom, one of the students seems confused.]] Teacher: Your projects are due today by 5:00 PM. Student: ((...I didn't even know we had one.)) Student: ((Wait. I don't think I've been attending. I must have forgotten I had this class. Shitshitshit.)) Student: ((Okay, I'm gonna fail. Will it hold me back? I just want to get out of here. I thought I had <i>finished< i> my requirements already.)) Student: ((In fact, I think I remember graduating.)) Student: ((What the hell is--)) [[Scene fades to the 'student' waking up.]] Fun Fact: Decades from now, with school a distant memory, you'll <u>still< u> be having this dream. {{Mouseover: The same goes for the one where you're wrestling the Green Ranger in the swimming pool full of Crisco. You guys all have that dream, right? It's not just me. Right?}}

[[A field of windmills is silhouetted against dusk sky.]] [[Man and woman are standing and sitting on the ground overlooking the windmills.]] Man: I'm all for green energy, but those turbines creep me out. They remind me of War of the Worlds, or the Tripod books. Woman: They -are- unnerving. Man: I can't shake the feeling that at any moment they'll-- <<RUMBLE>> [[A leg begins to split off one windmill.]] <<crack>> [[The leg separates from the body of the windmill.]] [[The new leg lands on the ground.]] <<BOOM>> [[Another leg begins to split off the other side of the windmill's body.]] <<crack>> [[The new leg hits the ground, forming a tripod base.]] <<BOOM>> [[Smoke rises from destroyed buildings as the windmills rampage across the field.]] [[Man and woman are now standing.]] Woman: Oh no. Man: Al Gore, you've doomed us all. Woman: It's coming this way! Man: Run! [[One of the enormous tripod windmill feet lands right behind the running couple, sending debris flying.]] <<BOOM>> [[Man and woman run.]] Woman: What now? Man: Someone has to stop them. Woman: But who could-- Voice from next panel: Stand aside! [[Don Quixote sits mounted at the top of a hill, lance at the ready.]] {{title text: The moment their arms spun freely in our air, they were doomed -- for Man has earned his right to hold this planet against all comers, by virtue of occasionally producing someone totally batshit insane.}}

[[A girl sets up a full mirror adjacent to a bathroom-counter mirror]] [[The girl looks through the bathroom-counter mirror to see the infinite reflections]] Girl: Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary. <<RAAGHHHHH>> [[Girl ducks as the infinite Bloody Marys pop out between the two mirrors above her head]] {{Alt-Text: If you actually do this, what really happens is Douglas Hofstadter appears and talks to you for eight hours about strange loops.}}

Narration: Signs your coders don't have enough work to do: [[A man sitting at his workstation; a female co-worker behind him]] Man: I'm almost up to my old typing speed in dvorak [[Two men standing by a server rack]] Man #1: Our servers now support gopher. Man #1: Just in case. [[A woman standing near her workstation speaking to a male co-worker]] Woman: Our pages are now HTML, XHTML-STRICT, and haiku-compliant Man: Haiku? Woman: <div class="main"> Woman: <span id="marquee"> Woman: Blog!< span>< div> [[A woman sitting at her workstation]] Woman: Hey! Have you guys seen this webcomic? {{title text: It's even harder if you're an asshole who pronounces <> brackets.}}

[[Awaiting the judges' ruling at the Pirate Bay trial]] Character 1: I wish this were in America. Character 2: Why? Character 1: I hear we'd go before a jury of our peers, and I've always seeded generously {{Alt Text: We find you guilty of closing your torrents as soon as they finish. Your sentence is unremovable Hungarian subtitles on everything.}}

[[A man is talking to a woman]] Man: I used to think correlation implied causation. Man: Then I took a statistics class. Now I don't. Woman: Sounds like the class helped. Man: Well, maybe. {{Title text: Correlation doesn't imply causation, but it does waggle its eyebrows suggestively and gesture furtively while mouthing 'look over there'.}}

[[A male xkcd figure is playing with an etch-a-sketch]] Male: Hey. If draw enough lines, I can see what's behind the screen. Male: Oh man, almost... Etch-a-Sketch: Hi! [[Head of a female xkcd figure appears behind etch-a-sketch]] Female: You're cute! Male: Wha- Female: I'm the one who draws when you turn the knobs. Female: It's lonely in here. Male: It's lonely out here too. Female: I'm glad you found me, then! Female: Let's be friends. Female: And never be lonely again. [[Panels break apart into thought bubbles coming from male as he sits with his etch-a-sketch]] Male: *sigh* [[Etch-a-sketch shows what is behind the glass; it is just the mechanics of the machine]] [[Male shakes etch-a-sketch]] {{title text: Surrounded by boring mysteries.}}

[[Guy is in a bed with a girl]] Guy: Sup dawg, I herd you didn't liek forming babby, but I accidentally in your base. [[Out of the panel text]] Cons: Ruined life. Pros: Sentence set the new meme destiny record. {{Alt-Text: If only I had asked 4chan for ideas for what I should do to prevent this!}}

Buttercup: Oh, my sweet Westley! Buttercup: Why did you let me think you were dead? Westley: You shacked up with the prince! Buttercup: After years of mourning! The worst pain of my life! Buttercup: And now you ... kill people? Westley: I'd hardly be a dread pirate if I didn't. Buttercup: How lovable. Westley: It was for the sake of the narrative! Buttercup: Fuck the narrative. I'm going to go see if that Spaniard's single. Westley: ... As you wish. {{Alt text: Inigo Buttercup 4eva <3}}

[[A guy is looking at a kindle]] Girl: A Kindle? E Books, huh? Guy: Ebooks are for chumps. Girl: Why get a kindle, then? Guy: One reason: FREE Cellular web access. Even if I spend months broke and drunk in a strange city, I'll still be able to use wikipedia and wikitravel to learn about anything I need. Girl: Why does that sound familiar? Gimme that. [[Girls takes the kindle]] [[The top of the kindle says "Amazon Kindle"]] [[Girl scratches at the top]] <<scrape, scrape, scrape>> Top of "kindle": Hitchhiker's Guid... {{Alt-text: I'm happy with my Kindle 2 so far, but if they cut off the free Wikipedia browsing, I plan to show up drunk on Jeff Bezos's lawn and refuse to leave.}}

[[A man points to a diagram of a particle accelerator]] Man 1: Do you have any thoughts regarding the particle accelerator's tertiary F.E.L. Guidance System? Man 2: We can't put the broken part in the machine. It wouldn't smash the right tiny things together. Then the machine might break. That would be very bad. [[Text at the bottom reads "I spent all night reading simple.wikipedia.org, and now I can't stop talking like this.]] {{Title text: Actually, I think if all higher math professors had to write for the Simple English Wikipedia for a year, we'd be much better shape academically.}}

[[Interior, a man sits at his computer typing, woman enters]] Man [typing]: ...and that's why music DRM is bad for listeners and artists! Woman[off-panel]: What are you doing? Woman: In case you didn't notice, we won the music DRM war. The big stores are DRM free. Woman: So close the comment thread, get out the debit card, buy us some music, and let's rock the fuck out. Man: But I don't actually like music, I just like being self-righteous on the web. Woman: Lucky for you, that will always be free. {{title text: Just yesterday I bought my first non-DRM'ed songs (The Last Vegas, in keeping with my 'I only listen to things from Guitar Hero' theme).

Trivia: It's possible to create events which Wikipedia cannot cover neutrally Man in Hat: In a week, I will be donating $1,000,000 to a recipient determined by the word count of the Wikipedia article about this event. If it's even, the money goes to pro-choice activists. If it's odd, pro-life. {{title text: 'Hey, everyone, you can totally trust that I didn't do a word count on MY edit!'}}

Coach : OK TEAM. WE'RE SIXTEEN POINTS DOWN. IF WE WANT TO COME BACK FROM THIS Crowd : WOO!! SCORE!!! Coach : OKAY, NOW WE'RE EIGHTEEN POINTS DOWN...LISTEN - I'M STARTING TO THINK WE SHOULD ONLY TAKE THESE BREAKS AT HALFTIME. {{title text: Listen! They said a team of chess players coached by someone with no understanding of basketball would never be competitive in the NBA! Well, it turns out they're pretty perceptive.}}

[[shows an adaptation of the sierpinski triangle fractal, using hearts instead of triangles]] center: Happy valentine's day bottom right: -xkcd {{Title text: Especially you mouseover -text readers. You're the best. <3}}

[[Hat Guy is holding blood stained rags while woman is holding an equally bloody mop]] Hat Guy: Okay, got the blood off the walls. Woman: I finished the floor Hat Guy: Good; he'll be home any- Oh crap! We forgot to clean the ceiling! Woman: There's no time! Hat Guy: Wait, I'll handle it. [[Man with briefcase enters the house]] Hat Guy: Hi. Did you know "gullible" is written on your ceiling? Man: Hah. Yeah, right. {{title text: Man, this trick has saved me so many times.}}

[[Randall Monroe on stage]] Randall - Hi. I'm Randall. Welcome to my TED talk. Randall - it's an honor to speak to you, some of the brightest innovators from so many fields, about a problem in desperate need of your attention: Randall - How DO you end parenthetical statements with emoticons? I can't figure out a good way. [[Screen next to him shows two statements, both crossed out in red]] Screen - "Linux (or BSD :) would..." (in red) "looks mismatched" "Linux (or BSD :)) would..." (in red) "looks mismatched and weird" [[Randall writing on a desk]] Randall's List - Conferences I'm banned from: Siggraph Eurocrypt Defcon Pycon International Astronomical Union Canadian Paleontology Conference Every American Furry Convention American Baking Society Asian Dolphin-Training Conference TED {{Alt-text: The IAU ban came after the 'redefinition of the 'planet' to include the IAU president's mom' incident.}}

[[A man and woman are talking; she's sitting on the back of a chair with her feet on the seat, and he's sitting on the floor facing her.]] Woman: So how far did you get with her? Man: Second base? Woman: Wait, which one is that? Below the waist, but... not under the clothes? Man: I think that's... shortstop? Woman: You should try crossing the pitcher's mound. Then down the 50-yard line, and right past her ten-pin. Man: Sounds tricky. Woman: Yeah. Last time I tried it, I got a red flag. If you know what I mean. Man: I really don't. [[A diagram of a baseball diamond.]] The "Base" Metaphor Explained [[Bases and x points are marked, as well as dashed lines covering the field.]] [[Along the first base line is "Your Base"]] [[Slightly right of that is a binary base: 0110 0010 0110 0001 0111 0011 0110 0101 0010 0000 0011 0010] [[First base: Kissing]] [[Second base: Hands under the shirt and or licking]] [[Third base: Oral sex (formerly "hands in the pants")]] ((The following are x marks. Slightly right of home plate: Eye contact. Along the first base line: Passing notes. Slightly before first base: Downloading Star Trek fanfiction and replacing Riker's name with your Crush's. Right field: Eye contact from Janeane Garofalo. Between the pitcher and second base: Using the scroll thingy on that one Apple mouse. Near the shortstop: Dry humping. Left of second base: Fursuits. Farther left: Fursuits (crotchless). Just before home plate: Thigh contact. Beyond 3rd base, along the 3rd base line: Standing anywhere near Peaches. Foul of the third base line: Anal sex (fill in your won "Foul Ball" pun here.) Left outfield: 2outfielders1glove. Left outfield: Retrograde wheelbarrow.)) ((The following are dashed lines: A region along the line from first to second base: The Boring Zone. A line traveling across the second to third baseline, and towards home plate: The orgasm line. ((dry humping is on the "orgasm" side.)) Between third base and home: "Virginity" (Maginot) line.)) ((Arrows pointing out various other features: An arrow crossing the "Virginity" line: Teens. An arrow nearer to home plate: Sharing root PWs. An arrow crossing the orgasm line in the outfield: Napoleon's forces.)) {{Title text: I once got to second base with a basketball player. She was so confused.}}

Girl (on the phone): Can my boyfriend come along? Guy: I'm not your boyfriend! Girl: You totally are. Guy: I'm casually dating a number of people. Girl (pointing to a chart): But you spend twice as much time with me as with anyone else. I'm a clear outlier. Guy: Your math is irrefutable. Girl: Face it - I'm your statistically significant other. {{title text: ... okay, but because you said that, we're breaking up.}}

A Crypto nerd's imagination: Guy [[Holding Laptop]]: His laptop's encrypted. Let's build a million-dollar cluster to crack it. Other guy: No good! It's 4096-bit RSA! Guy: Blast! Our evil plan is foiled! What would actually happen: Guy [[Holding money tag and wrench]]: His laptop's encrypted. Drug him and hit him with this $5 wrench until he tells us the password. Other guy [[taking the wrench]]: Got it. {{Alt-Text: Actual Actual Reality: Nobody really cares about his secrets. (Also, I would be hard pressed to find that wrench for $5.)}}

(Ducklings follow mother duck in procession) Chick: Ready? Dude: Ready. (Dude and chick regard duck procession.) (Diagram of duck procession showing linear west-to-east motion) Dude: (on right side of duck procession) Roar! Boo! (Mother duck is alarmed.) (Mother duck proceeds south, then west. Ducklings follow.) (Chick seizes mother duck, lifts upwards.) Yoink! Mother duck: Quack (First ducking begins to follow final duckling, such that ducklings form a loop, rotating clockwise.) Operation: Duckling Loop {{Alt text: DUCKLOOP'D?}}

[[A man and a woman sit beside a moonlit lake.]] Man: Arthur C. Clarke said space elevators will be build 50 years after everybody stops laughing. [[Closeup on the man.]] Man: So all we have to do is get Mind of Mencia on every channel and wait. Woman: Oh, hush. {{title text: If you think space elevators are good, but just too boring and practical, check out the 'space fountain'.}}

[[Man #1 is administering the presidential oath to Man #2]] Man #1: You know, it might be cool to be a woman. Man #2: It... might be cool to be a woman? Man #1: Yeah, but the menstruation thing is freaky. Man #2: Yeah, but... the, um. What? Narration: Turns out I'm even worse at administering the presidential oath than John Roberts. {{title text: 'And ovaries. Man, ovaries, huh?' [awkward pause] '... faithfully.'}}

[[Code displayed, presumably from an IDE]] def getSolutionCosts(navigationCode): fuelStopCost = 15 extraComputationCost = 8 [[There is a giant arrow pointing to the next line]] thisAlgorithmBecomingSkynetCost = 999999999 waterCrossingCost = 45 Narration: Genetic algorithms tip: *Always* include this in your fitness function. {{title text: Just make sure you don't have it maximize instead of minimize.}}

Mephistopheles: Welcome to Hell. Here's- Mephistopheles: Wait. I know you. Mephistopheles: You're the Fujitsu exec who killed the Q-series. Fujitsu Exec: ...Yes? Mephistopheles: The Q2010 was the perfect laptop! Mephistopheles: Powerful, durable, had every feature, and made the Air look <u>bulky< u> And that was back in 2006! Fujitsu Exec: But noone bought it! Mephistopheles: Then you marketed it wrong! Fujitsu Exec: Wait. Don't you <i>encourage< i> evil acts down here? Mephistopheles: In theory, yes, but we need laptops too! Mephistopheles: Although it's moot, since we have an exclusive deal with Sony. Fujitsu Exec: I <i>knew< i> it! {{Alt text: The xkcd.com sysadmin has a Q2010, and I can attest that it can handle a fall down several flights of concrete steps. Relatedly, he's upset with me - I hope he doesn't take revenge by messing with my site's contenDISREGARD THAT I SUCK COCKS}}

[[Man is holding a box with an open lid. A miniature piano is inside. The girl is looking at it]] Man: My hobby is making miniatures. Check this out-- it's a fully-functional grand piano. Woman: Woah - beautiful. [[Man looks at the miniature piano]] Man: Sadly, I've never head what proper music sounds like on it-the keys are too small to play. [[Man closes lid to the piano.]] Man: I once asked a genie for someone who could play it for me, but I think he misheard. Girl: ... are you doing anything later? {{Alt-Text: Good thing he didn't make it smaller, or it'd need someone three inches tall to play it.}}

[[A woman and a man holding a green bottle are standing beside a crib. Another green bottle is lying on the floor.]] Woman: More sugary drinks? Are you trying to give her diabetes? Man: Yeah - then we keep her supplied with insulin unless things go wrong. Narration: I take the Jurassic Park approach to parenting. {{title text: Kids are genetic experiments. We're just experimenting responsibly!}}

[[Ponytailed stick figure approaches stick figure, who is sitting on porch steps, laptop in lap and backpack open]] Ponytailed stick figure: Should I ask? Stick figure: I'm locked out, and I'm trying to get my roommate to let me in. [[unplugged cell phone on table]] Stick figure: First I tried her cell phone, but it's off. [[Stick figure sitting on steps, laptop in lap and gesturing]] Stick figure: Then I tried IRC, but she's not online. [[Stick figure standing in front of house and looking up at window]] Stick figure: I couldn't find anything to throw at her window, [[living room with couch easy chair and computer set up]] Stick figure: so I SSH'd into the Mac Mini in the living room and got the speech synth to yell at her for me. Computer: Hey I'm locked out downstairs [[Roommate sitting at table with laptop open]] Stick figure: But I think I left the volume way down, so I'm reading the OS X docs to learn to set the volume via command line. [[Ponytailed stick figure facing stick figure, who is still sitting on the porch with his laptop.]] Ponytailed stick figure: Ah. Ponytailed stick figure: I take it the doorbell doesn't work? [[Ponytailed stick figure characters remain in place, Stick figure tilts head back slightly, as if staring in realization]]

[[Girl looks out window through blinds]] Girl: It's snowing! Boy: [[from off-screen]] Sled time! [[Girl and boy outside with sled, at the top of a hill]] Boy: It depresses me that I'm too old to learn another language fluently. My brain's solidified. [[Girl and boy sledding down the hill]] Girl: Is there one you wish you knew? Boy: No, I just hate having options closed to me. Like I've given up a life that was once possible. [[At the bottom of the hill, sled has stopped]] Girl: Which reminds me -- our anniversary is coming up. Girl: Man, that ride failed to be a metaphor for our conversation. Boy: Guess this isn't the Calvin & Hobbes-model toboggan. {{title text: If you get your hands on that one, it's the worst place to have a breaking-up conversation.}}

[[A girl is standing behind a guy sitting at a desk using his laptop]] Girl: What are you doing? Guy: Trying the Windows 7 beta. Girl: Why is it showing a picture of Hitler? [[The laptop's screen is shown with Adolph Hitler's face on it]] Guy: I don't know. I can't get it to do anything else. Girl: There's no UI? Guy: No, just Hitler. [[Return to the original scene, except the girl is now scratching her head in confusion]] Girl: Did you try Ctrl-Alt-Delete? Guy: It just makes Hitler's eyes flash. Girl: Huh. [[Scene remains basically the same, except the girl is no longer scratching her head and the guy is no longer typing on the laptop]] Girl: Well, it's better than Vista. Guy: True. {{title text: Disclaimer: I have not actually tried the beta yet. I hear it's quite pleasant and hardly Hitler-y at all.}}