Love and the Mathematical Odds of falling in.

If you speak to a person and you speak to them about love, they will undoubtedly inform you, (if they have had such an experience), that falling in love may be the most incomparable experience one can undergo. On awakening their lover’s name dances through their mind, resuming the merry carousel of the previous night’s reverie. The mundane becomes sufferable and every little iota of this punishment we call life becomes somehow bearable and relevant. Everything means something. Nothing means everything. Anything is possible (if you have the time and money and means so probably not). No doubt at some point a reference to birds singing will declare itself and at this point it is important that some distance is made between yourself and this unashamed moron. Falling in love is a statistical phenomenon, no more, no less. You fall in love with the first person you happen to be romantically mauled together with because of their telling proximity to whatever miserable section of the world you happen to find yourself. No one is made for you.

Life is pretty simple like that. Think back to the scene from Donnie Darko regarding ‘The Lifeline’ and its extension from Love and Fear and how you chortled at the incredulousness of Donnie in refusing to believe that anything could be as simple as degrees of love or fear, provoking him to ask the teacher to ‘Forcibly insert the lifeline into my anus!‘ Good times.

As it happens, I don’t think her or Patrick Swayze (Paedo extraordinaire) were too far off. Only I disagree with the inferences, so let’s change them to Hate and Love under the assumption that you only ever like or dislike someone or something to varying degrees. It really is that binary. More complex inferences such as indifference, I would suggest occur because you are a worthless pawn in a consumer state and your mood is simply reflective of the way you are perceived by your fellow man. I don’t know man, I’m not a psychologist.

Back to falling in love. Under the assumption that there are two primal emotions, let us presume that you either like or dislike someone from immediate introduction. Since they are only likely to be liked or disliked and the options are two-fold, the subsequent probability of each outcome occuring is 1 in 2 or 50%. Therefore, right from the start, 50% of the losers you meet, you will never fall in love with.

Then let us also presume there are 15 inherent characteristics of the ideal person. These 15 characterisics in any person, regardless of time or place or wallet status would make you fall bewilderingly in love, swimming in a sea of your own semen happiness. On this level, for you to love someone, it is clear that a majority of those characteristics would be needed. So therefore > 8 characterisics in 15 would make you fall in love.

Let’s put it to an example. If you meet 100 people in a day, there are 50 poor blighters who you will sneer at from the outset. This leaves us with 50 potential Cassanovas. Based on the above we have decided that of these 50 remaining people, the odds of your falling in love and buying the new Taylor Swift album is based on these blokes owning greater than or equal to 8/15 characteristics. Assuming these characteristics are linear, the calculated odds of making your heart beat just that much faster, is a clean 26.6%.

26%? TWENTY SIX PERCENT. Those capitals are for you dear reader who has reached into a pocket to fetch their glasses. Yes, it is a statistical fact (maybe) that of every single Joe you meet, you are 26 times out of a 100, likely to fall in love with them. Those are statistics my friends and you cannot argue with numbers (trust me, I’ve tried).

To summarise; I suggest getting absolutely ruined with alcohol this Friday and heading to your local discotheque for a good old pelvic shuffle. At some point, annoy the DJ to the point where they allow you to commandeer their microphone, in order to break the crowd up by sex, whereupon you take your personal gender choice (mine’s a lady) and in divisions of four, break the crowd up repeatedly, inanely and mathematically and until finally you are left romantically entwined with one hapless indvidual. Go and kiss them. 26 times out of 100 you will fall in love.

 

I really hope my girlfriend doesn’t read this.

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