Posted on 03/14/2015 7:27:17 AM PDT by thirst4truth
Today is the most magical day of the year: Pi Day.
It's also the most magical year of the century: Pi Year.
That is, today's date is 3/14/15 (at least in the US and a few other countries that write dates the same way), which matches up nicely with the first five digits of pi, the ratio of every circle's circumference to its diameter: 3.1415.
(Excerpt) Read more at vox.com ...
Bless you for putting the idea into context and actually thinking about it ;)
We're in the year 2015 not 15. We're 2,000 years late for the real pi day.
This it the day we shut our Pi Whole....;)
SUP
E=MC< sup>2< /sup>
You must have one helluva good clock. How do you set it?
Jed Clampett, actually. Andy was a well-educated sheriff and Justice of the peace.
Poe, E.
Near a Raven
Midnights so dreary, tired and weary.
Silently pondering volumes extolling all by-now obsolete lore.
During my rather long nap - the weirdest tap!
An ominous vibrating sound disturbing my chamber’s antedoor.
“This”, I whispered quietly, “I ignore”.
Perfectly, the intellect remembers: the ghostly fires, a glittering ember.
Inflamed by lightning’s outbursts, windows cast penumbras upon this floor.
Sorrowful, as one mistreated, unhappy thoughts I heeded:
That inimitable lesson in elegance - Lenore -
Is delighting, exciting...nevermore.
Ominously, curtains parted (my serenity outsmarted),
And fear overcame my being - the fear of “forevermore”.
Fearful foreboding abided, selfish sentiment confided,
As I said, “Methinks mysterious traveler knocks afore.
A man is visiting, of age threescore.”
Taking little time, briskly addressing something: “Sir,” (robustly)
“Tell what source originates clamorous noise afore?
Disturbing sleep unkindly, is it you a-tapping, so slyly?
Why, devil incarnate!—” Here completely unveiled I my antedoor—
Just darkness, I ascertained - nothing more.
While surrounded by darkness then, I persevered to clearly comprehend.
I perceived the weirdest dream...of everlasting “nevermores”.
Quite, quite, quick nocturnal doubts fled - such relief! - as my intellect said,
(Desiring, imagining still) that perchance the apparition was uttering a whispered “Lenore”.
This only, as evermore.
Silently, I reinforced, remaining anxious, quite scared, afraid,
While intrusive tap did then come thrice - O, so stronger than sounded afore.
“Surely” (said silently) “it was the banging, clanging window lattice.”
Glancing out, I quaked, upset by horrors hereinbefore,
Perceiving: a “nevermore”.
Completely disturbed, I said, “Utter, please, what prevails ahead.
Repose, relief, cessation, or but more dreary ‘nevermores’?”
The bird intruded thence - O, irritation ever since! -
Then sat on Pallas’ pallid bust, watching me (I sat not, therefore),
And stated “nevermores”.
Bemused by raven’s dissonance, my soul exclaimed, “I seek intelligence;
Explain thy purpose, or soon cease intoning forlorn ‘nevermores’!”
“Nevermores”, winged corvus proclaimed - thusly was a raven named?
Actually maintain a surname, upon Pluvious seashore?
I heard an oppressive “nevermore”.
My sentiments extremely pained, to perceive an utterance so plain,
Most interested, mystified, a meaning I hoped for.
“Surely,” said the raven’s watcher, “separate discourse is wiser.
Therefore, liberation I’ll obtain, retreating heretofore -
Eliminating all the ‘nevermores’ “.
Still, the detestable raven just remained, unmoving, on sculptured bust.
Always saying “never” (by a red chamber’s door).
A poor, tender heartache maven - a sorrowful bird - a raven!
O, I wished thoroughly, forthwith, that he’d fly heretofore.
Still sitting, he recited “nevermores”.
The raven’s dirge induced alarm - “nevermore” quite wearisome.
I meditated: “Might its utterances summarize of a calamity before?”
O, a sadness was manifest - a sorrowful cry of unrest;
“O,” I thought sincerely, “it’s a melancholy great - furthermore,
Removing doubt, this explains ‘nevermores’ “.
Seizing just that moment to sit - closely, carefully, advancing beside it,
Sinking down, intrigued, where velvet cushion lay afore.
A creature, midnight-black, watched there - it studied my soul, unawares.
Wherefore, explanations my insight entreated for.
Silently, I pondered the “nevermores”.
“Disentangle, nefarious bird! Disengage - I am disturbed!”
Intently its eye burned, raising the cry within my core.
“That delectable Lenore - whose velvet pillow this was, heretofore,
Departed thence, unsettling my consciousness therefore.
She’s returning - that maiden - aye, nevermore.”
Since, to me, that thought was madness, I renounced continuing sadness.
Continuing on, I soundly, adamantly forswore:
“Wretch,” (addressing blackbird only) “fly swiftly - emancipate me!”
“Respite, respite, detestable raven - and discharge me, I implore!”
A ghostly answer of: “nevermore”.
” ‘Tis a prophet? Wraith? Strange devil? Or the ultimate evil?”
“Answer, tempter-sent creature!”, I inquired, like before.
“Forlorn, though firmly undaunted, with ‘nevermores’ quite indoctrinated,
Is everything depressing, generating great sorrow evermore?
I am subdued!”, I then swore.
In answer, the raven turned - relentless distress it spurned.
“Comfort, surcease, quiet, silence!” - pleaded I for.
“Will my (abusive raven!) sorrows persist unabated?
Nevermore Lenore respondeth?”, adamantly I encored.
The appeal was ignored.
“O, satanic inferno’s denizen — go!”, I said boldly, standing then.
“Take henceforth loathsome “nevermores” - O, to an ugly Plutonian shore!
Let nary one expression, O bird, remain still here, replacing mirth.
Promptly leave and retreat!”, I resolutely swore.
Blackbird’s riposte: “nevermore”.
So he sitteth, observing always, perching ominously on these doorways.
Squatting on the stony bust so untroubled, O therefore.
Suffering stark raven’s conversings, so I am condemned, subserving,
To a nightmare cursed, containing miseries galore.
Thus henceforth, I’ll rise (from a darkness, a grave) — nevermore!
— Original: E. Poe
— Redone by measuring circles.
Andy Griffith played Sheriff Andy Taylor on Mayberry and I don’t know if he used it there or not, nor do I know if Buddy Ebsen used it as Jed Clampett. Before Mayberry Andy Griffith was a country comic and part of one of his routines was “Pi r’ round, cornbread r’ square.”
Bookmark
NERDS OF THE WORLD, UNITE!
Thanks, C_H.
I celebrate on 22 July.
Video via YT: Count Pi to 20thousands digit. See how by Daniel Tammet
Heh. The young ones might not get that one. (22/7)
My daughter is getting married today, on pi day. We’re in Maui to do the deed. :)
Congrats.
Many years ago they told me the plan for Father of the Bride:
show up
shut up
pay up
My kids back in grade school had contests each year in school to see how far they could memorize it. My two daughters would win every year. The one said her best was to 103 digits, the other at eighty something.
That was four years ago. The one just rattled off 18, and the other finished it out to 26. For me - 3.14 is close enough!
When I was young and foolish, I ate -1 pizzas after drinking a lot of beer. Puked all over the parking lot.
Your kids are smarter than I am!!
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