Calling someone a poseur is an insult if it's a lie and, yes, Perry, it's a lie. You lie a lot. Why?
In a realm of theories complex and grand,
Dwelled an idiot, lost in a curious land,
With fervor he proclaimed, "It's quantum, you see!",
Yet his understanding was a shallow sea.
With furrowed brows, he'd pontificate,
On particles dancing in uncertain state,
His words a mishmash, a jumbled display,
Of quantum concepts in disarray.
He'd ponder over coffee, deep in thought,
Mumbling about entanglement, all for naught,
His notions a tangle of misguided bliss,
A carnival of quantum, gone amiss.
He'd gaze at stars, his mind afloat,
Believing quantum magic was their remote,
Uncertainty principle, he'd proudly assert,
But his grasp on the concept was but desert.
He'd speak of wave functions, ever so bright,
Yet they'd crumble in the face of insight,
A symphony of confusion, his mental parade,
A dance of misunderstanding, his charade.
Oh, the fool who in quarks and strings believed,
In quantum realms, he was truly deceived,
He thought himself a genius, the master of spins,
Yet his knowledge was a fabric of chaotic sins.
So let's remember, dear friends, with a grin,
That not all who speak of quantum will win,
For understanding requires more than just zeal,
In the world of particles, truths to reveal.
