Algebra. Why? Is my question. Why do I need to incorporate letters into a practice of numbers. Tell me why one man thought it to be necessary to mix the two. Letters are letters. They are creative and they invent and they are used for beautiful, extraordinary things. They are not to be fused into math and given number correspondents. The practice of algebra simply takes away the freedom of a letter.
In our adult learning class we covered the subject of algebra. Algebra is one of my favorite subjects. Mostly because I really enjoy learning math. To me, algebra is like a puzzle. In algebra you have to find the values for variables.
The twisted metal and crumbling concrete were all but guaranteed to remain from what was once a functional overpass, when you think about it. One has to wonder if the engineer mastered, let alone understood, the algebra behind a load bearing bridge.
“So, if you add twice this equation to the next, you can find x. And then…” Ms. Fairbank paused to let her students answer.
“You plug x back into the first equation!” yelled Polly.
“That’s the signal!” shouted Holly next to her. “Plug x back into the first equation!” She and the fifty other students around her raised their crosses and ran forwards to plug them into the room’s power supply.
There was a loud flash.
sitting in math class sketching pictures of naked girls, listening to music. the girl next to me is yapping about something to the kid across the table. i’m listening to black flag’s “armageddon man”, the greatest song on the greatest black flag album, an album by an severely overrated band. the teacher’s looking at me, i look at him. he asks me a question but i don’t know the answer. what’s going on? i’m armageddon man
There he sat, in the most hated class in the school, algebra. He wasn’t listening to the teacher, but looking outside the window, paying attention to the colorful birds outside. He didn’t notice me, though I was near the bird. He didn’t notice I was watching him as intently as he was watching the bird. And he sure as hell didn’t notice the gun in my hands.
Time consuming. Hard because it counts as a high school class and is a credit for college. It’s makes me nervous to think about because there are a lot of test and homework to complete and I really want to get an A.
He gaped at her in confusion. He recognized some of her basics; understood the simple reasoning that started this problem. But now she was being coy, throwing out riddles, and being intentionally obtuse. He hated it.
John ran to class, late as usual. It was the one class he had trouble getting to because it was on the other side of the school from the class prior to it, which was English. The teacher just thought he hated algebra and he couldn’t seem to get him to understand, using maps or not, that it wasn’t him, it was the distance! Maybe if he could figure out an algebraic formula for ‘distance’ and plug that in on the board in front of his teacher, maybe then he’d understand!
He was never very good at the Algebra. He spent most of his time getting the homework done by the sexy teacher of his class for him. why? He had the mindfulness, charisma and brain power of a genius.
I looked upon my algebra book and sighed. Why do I study this? When I grow up and be a writer, do I need to learn about this? Is this truly necessary? My thoughts were interrupted when somebody threw a ball of paper at me and then I looked around… Seeing no suspect, I just returned to reading but me being a curious little dunce, reached for the paper ball and opened it… Then I smiled at the message inside…. “Don’t look so serious, Smile for me Gorgeous”
Well, just seeing this word causes a bit of stress within me. Math has never been my strong suit. I know it’s because I was never taught Math properly. Teachers need to learn to teach better. I need manipulatives.
He ran through visions, simulations in his ind, trying to manipulate mental algebra to come up with a solution to the weight which so oppressed him. It was no use. His shoulders cracked; the muscles in his neck split and burst as his head was pushed down with a force so precise as to be almost mathematical…
algebra is important to me because i neewd it every day in coding. At least the principles of it such as variables and variable addition subtraction division etc. It seems like every day my lack of caring for learning math in school is coming back to bite me in the ass even though i never thought that it would.
I never cared for mathematics much, particularly algebra. Even the name – “algebra” – suffocates my mind and tires my soul. Who needs it? Engineers, maybe.
to see your face divided by a frown
falling through space, car across town
addition through subtraction, a breakfast break up
multiplication by two always in half
the algebra of your mind never adds up
even with variables.
Numbers and letters altogether
They’re everywhere
Inside my mind
Inside this book
Inside my teacher’s murderous look
And inside the paper plane that flew
From me towards you
The last thing i want to think about is algebra. It was the subject i dreaded the most in my high school years. now looking back i wish all my problems were as easy as the ones in my algebra class. teenage years, blond hair, no work and no drivers license :)
She wished she had a way with numbers like the did words. Sure, there were sometimes letters involved–algebra was her favorite type of mathematics for a reason–but she still had trouble keeping it all those vaguely menacing quantities straight in her mind.
I fucking hate algebra. I hate it. It’s not math, it’s not anything, really. It’s just endless pages of the same question, over and over. And I’m sitting here, tapping my foot, clicking my tongue. Fuck this. I’m gonna ask to use the washroom.
I fucking hate algebra. I hate it. It’s not math. It’s not anything. It’s just sitting in a chair, filling out a worksheet, hundreds of the same question with different numbers. And I’m tapping my feet, I’m clicking my tongue, my breath is fogging up my glasses. Fuck this. I’m gonna ask to use the washroom.
we meet in a rockslide
in my head, and it’s a wonder
we don’t come up for air
à la shred-human,
and I’m not good at
French, or making it up,
or making anything up,
because I can’t solve
my own duplicity…
because I bend with smiles
to not be seen, and I eat less
when I feel like I’m being seen,
until I’m digesting air
and the roars of empty bile;
when my face is slipping
and my friends are sinking down
like the fleeing trails of wax
to a birthday candle
(but only because they’ve
seen the truth),
I cry my mascara
into my hands and remember
how much I hate makeup.
But I split my ruby lips,
and I flip my curly hair,
and I shake the hands
of ever uncertainty until
“we’re fine we’re fine we’re fine.”
the girl sat in her algebra class when she realised that non eo fthis would matter. she was a dragon of course it didnt matter. she would one day find all the gold she would need to open her bank and complete her dream. also she loved gold. cause she was a dragon, you know she was a green dragon, cause green is the best colour. except when vomit
Twisting numbers, scrambling about, meaning hidden in their order. Take a number, pair it with another, divide it with its cousin. A writing displays a picture; the numbers have meaning. Meaning is found on solving. In thought. In careful arrangement. Track the steps. Remember the motions. Remember what the number means.
The clock’s tick echoed in her head. Slow, too slow, her hands fiddling idly with the pencil clutched in her sweaty hands. It couldn’t have only been three minutes, no way. Raising her head, she glared uselessly at the bowed heads of her students. Algebra, she decided, was the worst subject she’d ever taught by far.
Mathe. Mathe war noch nie etwas gewesen, was die junge Tiamat mochte. Jedes Mal, wenn im Unterricht das gloreiche Fach Mathemathik ausgewählt wurde, schüttelte sie mit den Kopf und seufzte laut. Vor allen, da sie aktuell bei Algebra waren. Algebra. Wer braucht so etwas schon? Sie ganz sicher nicht! Denn sie wollte die Welt bereisen!
I spun the pencil in my hand, staring at the algebra problems. I started re-writing number three again for the fifth time in an hour, and let out an exasperated sigh. When will I use this anyway?
I’m terrible at algebra. Why does it even exist in the common world above, say shop class, where you can learn to change your oil? That seems more necessary for my life than figuring out the angle to throw a ball over the house to hit something square on. Even with legit calculations, it’d be hard for me to throw it with the proper velocity. plus, there’s calculators everywhere.
I taught myself algebra. I got sick with pnemonia when I was in high school and the hardest part was getting behind in algebra.
She knew that algebra was the key to unlocking the note. She quickly scanned it over before letting her friend look at it. They didn’t know what to do. Perhaps there really was a treasure.
Algebra. My most hated word. It is my least favorite class i’ve ever taken and causes me so much stress. My teacher is incredibly rude, giving piles of homework each day.
My algebra class was just before my world history class, and I was getting antsy. Not just because algebra was a royal pain, and we were working on trigonometry and I never did well at trigonometry, which meant I was doomed when it came to pre-calc next year and I was heavily debating dropping math entirely after clawing through this class. No, it was also because next class, I would be sitting next to Gina Thomas again, and I would feel my heart attempt to escape the ivory cage of my chest for the entire fifty minute period.
Algebra. Why? Is my question. Why do I need to incorporate letters into a practice of numbers. Tell me why one man thought it to be necessary to mix the two. Letters are letters. They are creative and they invent and they are used for beautiful, extraordinary things. They are not to be fused into math and given number correspondents. The practice of algebra simply takes away the freedom of a letter.
In our adult learning class we covered the subject of algebra. Algebra is one of my favorite subjects. Mostly because I really enjoy learning math. To me, algebra is like a puzzle. In algebra you have to find the values for variables.
Sitting my desk and wanting to go asleep, not paying any attention. I don’t understand any of it????
The twisted metal and crumbling concrete were all but guaranteed to remain from what was once a functional overpass, when you think about it. One has to wonder if the engineer mastered, let alone understood, the algebra behind a load bearing bridge.
the science of why
we can’t help
who we love
the perfect symmetry
of he
and me
golden rectangles
broken but
balanced
Im doing algebra and im bored blah blah blah.
The simple algebra equation that equals the 3 words a person wants to hear the most.
9x – 7i > 3(3x-7u) = i < 3u
“So, if you add twice this equation to the next, you can find x. And then…” Ms. Fairbank paused to let her students answer.
“You plug x back into the first equation!” yelled Polly.
“That’s the signal!” shouted Holly next to her. “Plug x back into the first equation!” She and the fifty other students around her raised their crosses and ran forwards to plug them into the room’s power supply.
There was a loud flash.
sitting in math class sketching pictures of naked girls, listening to music. the girl next to me is yapping about something to the kid across the table. i’m listening to black flag’s “armageddon man”, the greatest song on the greatest black flag album, an album by an severely overrated band. the teacher’s looking at me, i look at him. he asks me a question but i don’t know the answer. what’s going on? i’m armageddon man
There he sat, in the most hated class in the school, algebra. He wasn’t listening to the teacher, but looking outside the window, paying attention to the colorful birds outside. He didn’t notice me, though I was near the bird. He didn’t notice I was watching him as intently as he was watching the bird. And he sure as hell didn’t notice the gun in my hands.
Time consuming. Hard because it counts as a high school class and is a credit for college. It’s makes me nervous to think about because there are a lot of test and homework to complete and I really want to get an A.
He gaped at her in confusion. He recognized some of her basics; understood the simple reasoning that started this problem. But now she was being coy, throwing out riddles, and being intentionally obtuse. He hated it.
John ran to class, late as usual. It was the one class he had trouble getting to because it was on the other side of the school from the class prior to it, which was English. The teacher just thought he hated algebra and he couldn’t seem to get him to understand, using maps or not, that it wasn’t him, it was the distance! Maybe if he could figure out an algebraic formula for ‘distance’ and plug that in on the board in front of his teacher, maybe then he’d understand!
He was never very good at the Algebra. He spent most of his time getting the homework done by the sexy teacher of his class for him. why? He had the mindfulness, charisma and brain power of a genius.
I looked upon my algebra book and sighed. Why do I study this? When I grow up and be a writer, do I need to learn about this? Is this truly necessary? My thoughts were interrupted when somebody threw a ball of paper at me and then I looked around… Seeing no suspect, I just returned to reading but me being a curious little dunce, reached for the paper ball and opened it… Then I smiled at the message inside…. “Don’t look so serious, Smile for me Gorgeous”
Well, just seeing this word causes a bit of stress within me. Math has never been my strong suit. I know it’s because I was never taught Math properly. Teachers need to learn to teach better. I need manipulatives.
The teacher was a large woman, yards of fabric and size 11 shoes–black heavy clogs.
He ran through visions, simulations in his ind, trying to manipulate mental algebra to come up with a solution to the weight which so oppressed him. It was no use. His shoulders cracked; the muscles in his neck split and burst as his head was pushed down with a force so precise as to be almost mathematical…
algebra is important to me because i neewd it every day in coding. At least the principles of it such as variables and variable addition subtraction division etc. It seems like every day my lack of caring for learning math in school is coming back to bite me in the ass even though i never thought that it would.
x’s and why’s
why are we learning this
I never cared for mathematics much, particularly algebra. Even the name – “algebra” – suffocates my mind and tires my soul. Who needs it? Engineers, maybe.
to see your face divided by a frown
falling through space, car across town
addition through subtraction, a breakfast break up
multiplication by two always in half
the algebra of your mind never adds up
even with variables.
lets add up all our joys
subtract our anger
multiply our love
and divide the blessing of God.
Numbers and letters altogether
They’re everywhere
Inside my mind
Inside this book
Inside my teacher’s murderous look
And inside the paper plane that flew
From me towards you
The last thing i want to think about is algebra. It was the subject i dreaded the most in my high school years. now looking back i wish all my problems were as easy as the ones in my algebra class. teenage years, blond hair, no work and no drivers license :)
She wished she had a way with numbers like the did words. Sure, there were sometimes letters involved–algebra was her favorite type of mathematics for a reason–but she still had trouble keeping it all those vaguely menacing quantities straight in her mind.
I fucking hate algebra. I hate it. It’s not math, it’s not anything, really. It’s just endless pages of the same question, over and over. And I’m sitting here, tapping my foot, clicking my tongue. Fuck this. I’m gonna ask to use the washroom.
I fucking hate algebra. I hate it. It’s not math. It’s not anything. It’s just sitting in a chair, filling out a worksheet, hundreds of the same question with different numbers. And I’m tapping my feet, I’m clicking my tongue, my breath is fogging up my glasses. Fuck this. I’m gonna ask to use the washroom.
we meet in a rockslide
in my head, and it’s a wonder
we don’t come up for air
à la shred-human,
and I’m not good at
French, or making it up,
or making anything up,
because I can’t solve
my own duplicity…
because I bend with smiles
to not be seen, and I eat less
when I feel like I’m being seen,
until I’m digesting air
and the roars of empty bile;
when my face is slipping
and my friends are sinking down
like the fleeing trails of wax
to a birthday candle
(but only because they’ve
seen the truth),
I cry my mascara
into my hands and remember
how much I hate makeup.
But I split my ruby lips,
and I flip my curly hair,
and I shake the hands
of ever uncertainty until
“we’re fine we’re fine we’re fine.”
Just don’t blow too hard.
the girl sat in her algebra class when she realised that non eo fthis would matter. she was a dragon of course it didnt matter. she would one day find all the gold she would need to open her bank and complete her dream. also she loved gold. cause she was a dragon, you know she was a green dragon, cause green is the best colour. except when vomit
Twisting numbers, scrambling about, meaning hidden in their order. Take a number, pair it with another, divide it with its cousin. A writing displays a picture; the numbers have meaning. Meaning is found on solving. In thought. In careful arrangement. Track the steps. Remember the motions. Remember what the number means.
x and y do not
come naturally to me –
it is far too easy to let my
mind wander
across the board, air
heavy with chalk and equations
outside, the air is light and blue
here the room is far too tight
with letters.
Algebra flying across the room
Numbers hit the wall
Variables drip to the floor like venom
Luscious math everywhere
But where I want it
The clock’s tick echoed in her head. Slow, too slow, her hands fiddling idly with the pencil clutched in her sweaty hands. It couldn’t have only been three minutes, no way. Raising her head, she glared uselessly at the bowed heads of her students. Algebra, she decided, was the worst subject she’d ever taught by far.
Mathe. Mathe war noch nie etwas gewesen, was die junge Tiamat mochte. Jedes Mal, wenn im Unterricht das gloreiche Fach Mathemathik ausgewählt wurde, schüttelte sie mit den Kopf und seufzte laut. Vor allen, da sie aktuell bei Algebra waren. Algebra. Wer braucht so etwas schon? Sie ganz sicher nicht! Denn sie wollte die Welt bereisen!
I spun the pencil in my hand, staring at the algebra problems. I started re-writing number three again for the fifth time in an hour, and let out an exasperated sigh. When will I use this anyway?
I’m terrible at algebra. Why does it even exist in the common world above, say shop class, where you can learn to change your oil? That seems more necessary for my life than figuring out the angle to throw a ball over the house to hit something square on. Even with legit calculations, it’d be hard for me to throw it with the proper velocity. plus, there’s calculators everywhere.
I taught myself algebra. I got sick with pnemonia when I was in high school and the hardest part was getting behind in algebra.
She knew that algebra was the key to unlocking the note. She quickly scanned it over before letting her friend look at it. They didn’t know what to do. Perhaps there really was a treasure.
Algebra. My most hated word. It is my least favorite class i’ve ever taken and causes me so much stress. My teacher is incredibly rude, giving piles of homework each day.
My algebra class was just before my world history class, and I was getting antsy. Not just because algebra was a royal pain, and we were working on trigonometry and I never did well at trigonometry, which meant I was doomed when it came to pre-calc next year and I was heavily debating dropping math entirely after clawing through this class. No, it was also because next class, I would be sitting next to Gina Thomas again, and I would feel my heart attempt to escape the ivory cage of my chest for the entire fifty minute period.