A certain monk approached Java master Bawan at the end of
the evening meal and demanded:
“Is it not so that a computer’s memory is, essentially, a
finite sequence of bits?”
“It is certain,” said the master.
“And if all computers in the world were brought together to
labor on a task, then still the number of bits would be
finite?”
“Even so,” said the master.
“Then we can never hope to calculate perfectly with common
irrational numbers such as pi or the square root of two, for
they possess an infinite number of digits! Our
approximations yield error upon error with each mathematical
operation. The exquisite profession of floating-point
computation is but a fortress built upon quicksand!”
Master Bawan rose to his feet, stared thoughtfully at the
monk’s waist for a moment*, then hurled his wooden rice bowl
hard at the monk’s stomach. The monk doubled up.
“Radius, five centimeters,” said Bawan, indicating the bowl.
“What is the circumference?”
“10π,” gasped the monk.
“Astonishing,” said Bawan. “How unthinkably vast your brain
must be, to juggle an infinite number of digits and arrive
at an exact answer.”
* Bawan was notoriously short, which may explain his
fondness for low-level details.
