It took a soldier with a huge brain inside an outsized head to solve this security problem.
Last Saturday I set you a puzzle to solve. It was a security dilemma that sent a military guard at one of London’s Olympic venues scurrying off to find his sergeant. I laid out the scenario for you here, and asked you to guess what the sergeant decided to do – or what he should have done.
And I offered a prize for the correct or best answer – a CD single, I love the noise it makes by Declan Sinnott.
If you haven’t already, you can still have a guess. The original dilemma is described here.
But it was basically whether or not a spectator could/ would/ should be let into an Olympic venue with bottles inside which the water was frozen solid – keeping in mind that it’s forbidden to bring in liquids.
Here are some of your suggestions as to what happened Continue reading
Editing live TV or radio is about knowing when and how to shut people up.
Here’s an extreme example from the Olympics basketball.
BBC commentator Mike Carlson gets cross after being clobbered Continue reading
Before you get hot under the collar about all the pictures of backsides, bottoms and bums – not to mention the odd crotch – please keep in mind that this is an important feminist argument, relevant to sports fans, Olympic watchers, media workers and er… you.
Also, I stole it all from Nate Jones at www.metro.us. A lazy flicher, that’s me. But think of this larceny as homage to his piece (ooer madam).
It was so effective, I thought you deserved to see it all. And I mean all! (But don’t worry . It is safe to read the rest at the office. As long as you’re willing to risk outbreaks of female giggling, some loud whooping and a dip in productivity.)
What if every Olympic sport was photographed like beach volleyball? (by Nate Jones) Continue reading
Filed under life, politics
Pic from InsideThe Games.biz
The security at London Olympic venues is now being provided by soliders. As far as I’ve heard, they’ve been polite, reassuring and quite hot. Phoarr! (That’s according to one Olympic volunteer anyway.)
But here’s a security dilemma that left the soldiers scratching their heads. And there’s a prize for the best (or correct) solution supplied by YOU.
It was like this: The first military searcher could not decide. He called in his sergeant. The sergeant pondered a while, before eventually coming up with a verdict.
The puzzle is coming up in a moment. But your challenge, dear reader, is to tell me in the comments below, what you think the army sergeant decided. (You’re also welcome to say what he should have said or done.)
So here’s the scenario:
A parent with accompanying children arrived at the entrance to the Olympic venue with two full plastic water bottles.
The rule is that no liquids are allowed to be taken into the site. (For security reasons. Free water is available inside. Empty vessels are permitted.)
But this resourceful parent, anticipating a hot thirsty day, had frozen the water bottles overnight. As it happened, the day was overcast, and chillier than expected – and the ICE HAD NOT MELTED Continue reading
Not sure who’s behind this graffiti – Criminal Chalklist or Maximilian Holden Perchik.
The Olympics has seeped its way deep into my day.
A typical business call goes like this:
ME: Hello, It’s HH from blah-de-blah.
ME: Oh wait, Tom Daley and the other guy are about to dive.
THEM: Yeah, we’re watching too.
…time passes, splosh.
ME: Hmm, not sure. (Or other learned judgement.)
THEM: I think little baldy went too soon. Anyway… Continue reading
A headline to bring joy to the hearts of millions.
A headline that might even, maybe, persuade me to vote for Boris (should he try for a third mayoral term instead of going for prime minister).
A headline that is long overdue.
And completely true. But Continue reading
Is this the best job in the world?
No – I’m not talking about looking after that island off the Queensland coast. According to the bloke who won the competition to do it, it wasn’t as much fun as he’d expected. It tired him out. Too much blogging too.
And it’s not this massage man either. As he says himself, he doesn’t even get to belong to a trade union and he has to work all hours. (Question: Should I have embedded the video in this post? Or is it too saucy? Or just funny? Let me know. Really. I have to keep tabs on my Charlotte Rampling rating.)
He longs for his own little desk. And no wonder. He must have heard of this person. The person I met last week. The person who really does have the best job in the world.
He – or she – works in a British government department of diminishing importance with nobody you’ve ever heard of in charge. Best not say exactly which one. It’s somewhere round Continue reading