A sufficiently advanced society has synthesized all human knowledge

in pill form. So an undergraduate goes to the drug store and asks the pharmacist if he has history, economics, and literature. The pharmacist disappears into the back. When he returns, he has three little boxes and says

"Here, take this purple one for all of human history—from the origins all the way up to last year's interplanetary politics. I'll get you a glass of water."

So the undergrad takes the pill and instantly has knowledge and understanding of the whole of human history, including differing viewpoints and interpretations. "Wow, oh wow!"

"I know. Now," continues the pharmacist, "this orange, round one is for economics—the earliest barter economies to our present-day crypto monetary structure. Then you'll take these two beige ones for literature—bronze age to last year's best selling e-books. These are my last ones, you must be another one of Prof. Kauffman's, I've been getting them all week long."

The undergrad rolls his eyes and nods, then takes the remaining three pills and is bestowed with vast knowledge from two more academic disciplines. He thinks a moment and says "You wouldn't happen to have mathematics, would you?"

"Sure," says the pharmacist, bending down beneath the counter. He comes up with another little box. "Earliest counting systems to the proof that won this year's Fields Medal."

The undergrad opens the box and in it is a pill the length of his thumb and almost twice the diameter.

"They couldn't have made it any more compact?" he asks.

"Ah, well, math's always been a little hard to swallow."