Question

poem on real number math
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Answer 1

Answer:

Here's your answer

I hope it would help u

Step-by-step explanation:

Dialogue between Machine and Man by Fred Richman

Hey man! Do you have time, would you agree,

To chat about real numbers now with me?

My friend, you've never seen a real real number.

You cut them off before they're halfway done.

Nor twenty decimal places, nor a thousand,

Are adequate to hold a single one.

I think you underestimate me, man.

My software package is the best in town.

See here's a little program that computes

The first n places of the number pi.

You choose the n, and if you have the time

You'll get as much of pi as you can stomach.

Such strings of digits are my cup of tea,

I mind not that they go on endlessly.

You've barely scratched the surface none the less.

The set of numbers you can calculate

With programs, like the one you wrote for pi,

Can be enumerated one by one,

And Cantor showed that, given such a list,

There is at least one number that is missed.

Insanity! What number has been seen

In all the world that I can't calculate?

Nor can you list the programs that compute

Each digit in a number's decimal string.

A child of ten can write the code to list

The programs my compiler will accept.

But here the programs must consist of those

That endless strings of digits do produce.

Write such a code, man, and the pigs will fly.

There's no such code. Look here, I'll show you why.

I know why, Mac, you just use Cantor's proof

To show that there is no recursive list

That itemizes all recursive functions.

The problem is that every list you know

Is general recursive---that's your world.

It's a paradox you'll never understand,

That I can count your numbers one by one

Despite your proof that it cannot be done.

regards - siddhi

Answer 2

Answer:

Poem on Real Numbers:

Life is a real number,

Situations trying to convert it into complex one,

I want to be always be rational,

in spite of all the irrationalities,

In hope of integrating,

Trying to set up the limits,

But every limit try,

To keep me in a close surface,

I dearly want to break,

And want to fly high in the sky,

You were the real of me , the only one,

without you i was just I,

an imaginary, useless thing,

With you, i was real.

and multiplied by you,

we became not many,

that was not our nature

but one the perfect one.