Lights up.
Dr. Guzman and Theo enter. Theo carries an unopened umbrella.
They converge at the whiteboard. It shows a mess of diagrams, numbers, and words.
Dr. Guzman turns to face the board. She finds an eraser, wipes the board clean.
Theo turns to face the audience. With mock trepidation, he pops open the umbrella.
Playfully, he peers out from under it, looks upward. He closes the umbrella.
Theo moves to the ladder. He circles it. Mysteriously. Mischievously.
Dr. Guzman takes a moment to find a marker. She accidentally drops it, picks it up again.
Abruptly, Theo ducks under the ladder. He emerges, welcomes the applause.
Chest pain! Is he having a heart attack? No, heâs just joking around.
Dr. Guzman writes on the board: Which came first?
Theo strides to a wall mirror.
Dr. Guzman addresses the audience.
Theo fixes his hair in the mirror.
Dr. Guzman: The question is, which came first?
Theo suddenly takes a big swing with his umbrella handle, smashing the mirror.
The chicken or the egg?
Theo: Macbeth!
Theo looks up to the heavens, opens his arms, waits for the lightning bolt that never comes.
Dr. Guzman: I submit to you, despite popular misconception, that the question is not rhetorical.
Theo addresses the audience.
Theo: Luck is like irony. Not everybody who thinks they got it, got it.
Dr. Guzman: One had to come first. Wouldnât you agree? Unless you postulate simultaneous creation. That is, unless you postulate God.
Dr. Guzman writes on the board: God.
Theo: Luck is like breasts. Itâs relative. If everybody had big breasts, weâd just call them breasts. And we wouldnât stare. As much.
He picks up a marker. He writes on the board: Luck.
Dr. Guzman: But weâre scientists, are we not? At least until your final results are posted. And we know Borelâs law states if the odds of an event are less than one in ten to the fiftieth, that event will never happen in the entire time and space of our known universe.
Theo: You are not all lucky; Iâm sorry to have to break it to you. In fact, I suspect the truly lucky ones are those whose wives did not drag them to a book reading three hours before kickoff on Super Bowl Sunday.
Dr. Guzman: So the chances of the chicken and the egg evolving simultaneously are perilously close to zero. Ergo, it must have been sequential.
Theo: Take a guy in a wheelchair who canât even take a crap by himself. Ask him if he considers himself lucky. Trust me. Heâll say yes. Every time. He has persuaded himself heâs the luckiest guy in the world. But heâs not. You know why?
Pause.
Because I am.
Dr. Guzman: Everything happens sequentially. Music. DNA. Every story ever told. There is an order to the universe. If chicken, then egg. Or if egg, then chicken. And, even more importantly, the order implies causality. Egg creates chicken. Or chicken spawns egg.
Theo: What determines success? Does a Nobel Prize recipient stand up and say, âIâm an average schmuck who just got luckyâ? No, they wonât tell you that. But I will. Because in many ways Iâm just like you. I put on my pants one leg at a time â always the right one first, as someone once pointed out to me.
Dr. Guzman: But whatever you do, do not tell me it doesnât matter. Thatâs a cheat. The only thing I detest more than cheating is laziness, and chaos is lazy. Entropy is lazy. God is lazy.
Dr. Guzman circles the word God.
Theo: Except, on the luck scale, I am off the charts. If you look at the odds Iâve fortuitously overcome . . . Iâm told Iâm a one in a billion. Thatâs with a B!
Dr. Guzman: Order is sweat. Order is who you are and why youâre here today. In this classroom. On this planet. Wasting...