In my previous post, I told a little anecdote illustrating that when I was as a kid, I thought I was very smart, sometimes even smarter than adults, and yet I’d never heard of the concept of Ï€r2. But I worried that some people might not get the joke, so I decided to sneak in a little explanation at the end of the post.
And I messed up.
I implied that πr2 belongs to algebra, when it really belongs to geometry.
I knew this, of course, but for some reason I was thinking of the wrong type of math.
The irony is that in writing a post about how this one time I thought I was being witty but wound up making a fool of myself, I thought I was being witty but wound up making a fool of myself.
I corrected the error so that nobody would ever know the difference. Except I know of at least one person who saw the error, because he e-mailed me to correct me, and therefore I worried that there might have been others who saw the error, so I felt compelled to write this explanation. Which means that those of you who hadn’t read the post before I changed it, or who don’t use RSS feed readers, now also know I made an error.
This whole post feels like something Faustus would write, except that I didn’t end it by saying that my error means nobody will ever, ever love me.
(I kid, Joel. I kid.)
Oh Jeff, how adorkable.
Oh, Jeff, how little you know me. I would have fixed the post immediately and e-mailed the person back thanking him/her. Then if anybody else ever said anything about it I would evince utter incomprehension.
Unless the person left it in a comment rather than an e-mail, in which case I would fix the post immediately and then delete the comment, possibly leaving a cryptic “thanks but I’m sure you understand” response in the comments.
Then I would bake a tin of brownies, eat them all, and wonder whether anybody would ever, ever love me.
Mate, seriously, if that’s all you’ve got to worry about, you’re doing OK. Hang loose, and chill out.