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Discover the inspiring journey of Victor Porton, a groundbreaking mathematician behind “funcoids” and the “generalized limit,” overcoming adversity, faith struggles, and societal rejection to revolutionize mathematics.
Since childhood, I have loved physics and mathematics. At the age of five, I dreamed of becoming a theoretical physicist. At nine years old, I attempted suicide. The reason was absurd: I concluded there was no First Cause, and therefore nothing truly existed. But then, by that logic, the river where I planned to drown myself didn’t exist either, meaning the suicide wouldn’t work. 😊 After some serious thought, I acknowledged the existence of God — the First Cause of everything else — and abandoned my nihilistic philosophy. I decided to find the correct religion. My search, after various fascinations, eventually led me to Christianity. However, I immediately disliked the Orthodox Church, and the Gospel I eagerly read had little in common with the Russian Orthodox Church. So, my quest for true Christianity brought me to the Baptists. At Baptist meetings, I would sit and cry. I cried because I believed I was a homicidal maniac (likely due to falling headfirst off a couch at around one year old) and realized I was destined only for hell. The Baptists were mistaken: they thought demons only existed in the first century AD, so they didn’t perform an exorcism on me. I had to fight the demons on my own. My condition worsened — alongside homicidal mania, I began to lose my sanity. It got to the point where I forgot my name, couldn’t read or count, spent half the time thinking I was a crocodile, and often saw dragons (which, incidentally, bite painfully). I tried repenting many times (after all, every maniac should repent). But it didn’t work. I remained a crazy maniac. The problem was that I needed to accept the Holy Trinity. Once I acknowledged the Trinity, I successfully repented. Instantly, things became brighter before my eyes. I tested myself and found I could read again. From that day, August 8, 1995, my previously tolerant relatives began subjecting me to intense psychological pressure — essentially bullying me as a “sectarian.” It seems the demons that left me entered them. The bullying escalated to beatings and starvation. Meanwhile, by September 1 (since I could read again), I enrolled in a lyceum and later a university. In my first year, I made my first scientific discovery: what I now call “funcoids” (a rather significant discovery). Soon after, I discovered the “generalized limit” (also a major breakthrough). At the same time, my mother tormented me, calling me not Victor but “vermin” (the son of a scoundrel, perhaps?). Thus, a great mathematician (yes, even then, in my first year!) was known as “vermin.” For several years, I endured severe hunger (“because vermin shouldn’t be fed,” my mother might say). She even took my meager university stipend. Relatives and several churches (Baptists, Charismatics, and others) didn’t feed me. I tried turning to the Hare Krishnas since I heard they “feed people,” but they demanded I bow to their god first, which I refused. Once, I met a gangster who tried extorting money from me. I told him, “Ask me what my plans are for the next 30 days.” He asked, and I replied, “In the next 30 days, I plan to die of starvation. I have no money.” The gangster gave me enough money for a month or two. So, who’s more likely to enter heaven: church members or this gangster? I made my first scientific discovery (funcoids) on the street after chewing on roadside grass for lunch because my mother had temporarily kicked me out of the house. I thought: I made a trillion-dollar discovery and might now die of hunger. For example, as a lyceum student, I once sat surrounded by professors giving a lecture (about climate change) just for me as their most promising student. I told them I wouldn’t live to see climate change because my mother would kill me first and asked them to call the police. They continued the lecture. I began telling them they were poor students who failed a simple test of calling the police and made other mocking comments. Nothing worked; the police were never called. In the lyceum, I once titled an essay, “How I Spent My Summer in a Concentration Camp,” concluding with, “We need to call the police.” But getting anyone to call the police proved impossible. What angered my mother most? My calling myself a sectarian. Initially, I decided to obey Jesus’ command not to be ashamed of His words by openly calling myself a Protestant. But people were so ignorant they didn’t know the word. So, I “rebranded” as a sectarian. I decided: by calling myself a sectarian, I’d starve to death because no one would cooperate with or even speak to me. But since Jesus said so, I’d face death (though I didn’t understand why). Years later, I realized why it was right to do so — but only until I understood the reason. Once I did, I stopped doing it. Now, I’m a great mathematician without a degree because the hatred of not only my mother but the entire people ruined my career. Without a degree, I failed to publish my discoveries. So, it turns out that the harm from the “second Hitler” (as I call my mother for her ten similarities to Hitler) is no less than from the first: childhood bullying kept the world from knowing my discoveries. By the way, my mother is now in a nursing home, her malice in the past. But I don’t visit her — I don’t care for her. It seems to me that unless the Russian people reconcile with me, you’ll fall behind in algebra of partially ordered semigroup actions and lose another war. — the great mathematician known as “vermin,” Victor Porton
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