Bruin Fisher

By appointment to His Madrigalness: Excluding esoteric technical terms, there are only four words in the English Language that end with 'dous'. Can you name all four? Bruin

In my opinion, this is the apposite logical and reasoned response to most events in life. Hugs Bruin

Oh yes... The Hitchhiker's Guide says never visit a galaxy beyond the limits of civilisation without reliable legal representation...

You do get SOME visitors from other worlds - I came, didn't I? Ford Prefect always says you're okay so long as you know where your towel is. Planets die, universes end, but if you're in touch with your towel you don't need to worry. My lawyer says something similar about briefs. Bruin

What am I like? I guess my street cred is permanently wasted now, what was I thinking of doing longwinded maths in the Flash Fiction forum....?? Duh! Bruin pink from the neck upwards (from the neck downwards its my business..)

I've had a idea, Cole... why don't you post that in Flash Fiction? It's very good! (What? someone's already suggested that? Who? I didn't notice...) Bruin with apologies and hugs to Des

This one was new to me so I've very much enjoyed working on it. Thanks Kapitano! I reckon this is all about our friend pi. The circumference of a circle is its diameter multiplied by pi. So the diameter of a circle is its circumference divided by pi. The circumference of our rope pre-extension is 40,075,000 metres So its diameter according to my spreadsheet is 12,756,268.69 metres. Wikipedia gives it as 12,756,260 metres so we're not far off. Once we extend it, our rope's circumference is 40,075,001 metres Now its diameter is 12,756,269.01 metres - which is .32 metres, or 32 cm greater. This is a surprise to me - I was expecting it to be much smaller, like .03 cm. So thanks Kapitano - I love mathematical surprises! However, the rope won't be 32 cm off the surface of the planet all round, only 16 cm one one side and 16 cm on the other side so that the diameter is increased by 32 cm. So my answer has to be D) None of the above So I expect I've goofed somewhere. Somebody put me right? Bruin

A great, reasoned response from Blue. In the Miriam exchange the impression given was that porn is not a matter for concern, but being gay is - as though the mother wouldn't have written in if she'd found her son was looking at straight porn. In my view porn is cause for concern, being gay isn't. Incidentally, is it just me or is gay porn often less violent/abusive than straight porn - by dint of the fact that ALL participants are sex objects together, and all are perpetrators together, in contrast to the straight variety?? Sorry, that last is a bit off topic. Bruin

He is the man that Hector Berlioz (and I) could only dream of being. But Hector and I live a life far removed from the flights of Sebastian, adding up columns of numbers for our crust. Hector got to express his frustration in music, I get to try my hand at writing. I am the only thing of value in your country and I am removing it immediately. Brilliant. <sigh> Bruin simpatico

Splendid flash fiction, Kapitano! A neatly structured piece, wistful, bittersweet and beautifully written. Bruin

There He Sat III - by Bruin Off the main highway, the road became narrow and windy as it climbed upwards through the thickly wooded hillside. As I drove I tried to collect my thoughts. My mind was racing, and in there somewhere was a plaintive cry that said: "Stop, turn round and go home. This is none of your business and you may get into trouble if you continue." I was ignoring that voice, not a very loud or persuasive voice anyway. I was trying to gather my thoughts about the guy in the car ahead. So far I was keeping him in sight but he was making good speed and my big sedan was not built for windy lanes. I needed to establish what I knew or could surmise about him. Very little. I knew he must be in his mid-twenties and I knew, as far as the sodium lights had allowed me to see, that he was drop dead gorgeous (I allowed myself that thought for the first time, now I was committed to this wild escapade). He drove a Toyota Corolla, about five years old, in red. The most reliable car in the world according to some major survey I remembered. But not a sporty car, though you'd never guess it the way he was devouring the road and making me sweat to keep up. He'd been eating fries out of a bag. Like a MacDonald's bag. There's no MacDonald's near the video rental store, I wondered where he'd got them from. So I knew not much about him. He was pulling ahead of me and the bends in the road were occasionally obscuring my sight of him. I tried to close the gap, driving my big V8 beyond the limits of the suspension system, so on the corners the car was wallowing badly and the tyres were scrabbling on the leaf-strewn road surface. Once or twice I frightened myself as the rear end swung out and I narrowly avoided going into spin. And I was now so focussed on controlling my car at speed that when the Corolla suddenly turned off the road onto a forest track I nearly missed it. As it was I overshot and had to brake, skidding nearly into a tree, reverse, and point my hood into the narrow track. His vehicle must be a foot narrower than mine, and I began to worry that I would get stuck. We came out of the forest into an area where the trees had been recently felled and my attention was caught momentarily by the breathtaking view across the valley. Even in the dark and the wet I was impressed. The lights in the windows of homesteads on the opposite hillside looked so inviting. My attention snapped back to the track ahead of me and just in time, only just in time, I slammed on the anchors. I came to a stop about a yard short of the red Corolla, stationary and with the driver's door swinging open. Beside the car stood the blond man, his hair wet and sticking to his forehead, pointing a rifle at me. "Who are you and why are you following me?" he called, his voice cracked and hoarse. ------------------------- ... anyone want to pick up the baton? Bruin

It isn't anything to do with sleight of hand or discounting midnight passes. The point is that the minute hand passes over the hour hand not once per hour but once every 1 hour 5 minutes 27 seconds. Or 11 times every 12 hours. If we start with my previous example, begin at 00:01. The first time the minute hand passes over the hour hand is not 01:01, it's actually 01:05:27. The next time they pass is 02:10:54. During the first 12 hours the two hands pass at these times: 01:05.45 (for convenience, 27 seconds is .45 minutes) 02:10.91 03:16.36 04:21:82 05:27.27 06:32.73 07:38.18 08:43.64 09:49.09 10:54.55 12:00 ... and during the next 12 hours they will pass another 11 times. QED. Now my brain hurts and I'm ducking out of this, I'm sorry I ever posed this puzzle! If we're not in agreement now, can we agree to disagree? Hugs to all Bruin

(stands up, looks around shyly, stands on one foot, clasps hands behind back) Hi, my name is Bruin and I watch Heroes! (massive relief, sits down, sobs quietly) I still think flying's the coolest. Bruin (well on the way to recovery now)

Beautifully put, Trab! Bruin

If you want to start at midnight, you have to count EITHER the first or last crossing as part of the current day, but not both. It's easier to visualise it if you take a 24 hour period starting and ending sometime other than midnight. Say, a minute past midnight - move the minute hand on one hour and it hasn't crossed the hour hand. But in the next hour it will, and so on until after 12 hours it has crossed the hour hand 11 times, and after 24 hours it crosses it 22 times. Try it - it works. And works for ANY 24 hour period. Bruin

No, Silly! That's called clock-watching and you never do it 'cos your life is so full and exciting.... This event happens exactly 22 times every day whether you like it or not. (Unless the clock is broken, of course - in which case it tells EXACTLY the right time twice every day). Bruin in mischievous mood - padlock your dustbins! (garbage cans)

Any perfectly ordinary 12 hour analogue clock or watch face will do! Bruin

He's doing it again - surely this one must have something to do with sinuses? And on this side of the big pond, we spell it 'synaesthesians' Bruin, Bear with a sore head

--- I'd been reading the BBC article about it, too. And Holtom hoped it would be seen as a person extending their arms outwards and downwards, palms out in a gesture of despair... Later critics said it would be better inverted to look more positive/hopeful. Bruin

Well, I live and learn - thanks Trab! So a freight train conductor's job is truly one of Camy's sinecures! Bruin

Yup - an old-fashioned, honest-to-goodness analogue clock face. Bruin

Sinecure? No fair - I'm a bear of very little brain! Isn't that catarrh medicine? Or am I thinking of Rhinoceros? Anyway, I still don't know what colour his keks are... Bruin

Perhaps we need a forum for quizzes??? Here's another one: What event takes place on a clock face twenty-two times per day? Bruin

Well kudos to Madrigal, then for coming up with the answer!! Freight trains don't have conductors. Here's another one: An Aer Lingus (Irish) flight from Amsterdam to Athens, carrying mostly American tourists, crashes in the Alps right on the border between Switzerland and Italy. Where did they bury the survivors? Bruin

I reckon I can out-stupid Camy on this one - I read the train puzzle and took it for a wind-up - it never occurred to me that it had an answer, so thanks for pointing it out! Bruin the dim