The derivative

One day, ex sees x2 running down the street in a panic. "What's wrong?" asks ex. "There's a Differential Operator in town!" yells x2. "If I run into him too many times, I'll disappear!"

"Don't worry," responds ex. "I'll go have a chat with him. No, don't worry about me -- he can't hurt me. After all, I'm ex."

So ex walks down the street to the Differential Operator. "My friend tells me you're a Differential Operator," ex says pompously. "Well, I'm ex."

"Pleased to meet you, ex," says the Differential Operator. "I'm d/dt."

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