Taking a pi break

Got a quick story for you. I shared this with a great friend who laughed a lot, but the thing is… most of the people I communicate with seem quite peeved by this story.  So now I have to share, because that seems an odd response to something I find delightfully funny. Feel free to share your joy or disgust in the comments…surely there’s something for me to learn here…perhaps?

I’ve actually been quite ill – some kind of infection. Nearly over it now. On Friday I read up on how the antibiotics are supposed to work and decided that I needed to be still for an hour after taking each one so my body has the resources available for a full scale attack. Being still, yeah right!

I started thinking about pi. Someone mentioned it on TV the night before. Jewish guy we rescued from destitution years ago used his ability to recite pi to 14 places as part of his argument for why jews are genetically superior. My friend Greg can rattle off pi to 12 decimal places.

I recalled that 22/7 was a representation of pi – something I was told in school, but I ran the numbers in my head and quickly discovered it’s completely wrong. So I looked up the decimal representation.

Ten minutes later I have memorised pi to 27 decimal places. I thought that was enough considering I was supposed to be relaxing. What can I say other than it’s an intriguing number/concept?

An hour later in the shower I was reciting pi however, after the 27th number I found myself saying – “and the last three numbers are 279.”  As in, to round up to 30 places.  Cracked myself up.

Thus far I have no use for this info. I will laugh even more if I do find a use for it.





Defiance danced with lowly breeds
He said “this life’s all mine”
His torrid stare, his flying hair
His ruse I can’t define
He loves a dare, so please beware

Compliance shields what freedom needs
In certain fields of play
In fear I’ll miss her homely kiss
She’s locked my dreams away
She aches for this, a shackled bliss

Alliance seeds some hollow deeds
Their will can serve to blind
Their clinging stance, their distant glance
It’s them and us, in kind
Their game’s romance, their selves enhance

Defiance; hailed in many creeds
As tricksters, jokers, mules;
It’s power yields to one who’s freed
It’s fools who blame their tools.