In recent discussions, no reader has dared to prove that the seven "infinite" cigarettes from last week are all in full contact with each other, nor has anyone proposed a different solution. Here's another perspective: the issue arises again where some connections are obvious, while others are not. For example, how can we prove that cigarettes C1 and C2 touch each other?

Regarding the stretched spring, Francisco Montesinos comments: "If the radius of the coils remains constant during the elongation due to strong resistance to bending, a contradiction arises. If the pitch of the deformed helix is 'p' and we consider the spring as having a single coil, its length would be √[(2πr)^2 + p^2] and not (2πr) as might be assumed. One could rightly argue that this latter 'r' is a different 'r’ than before, but then we must clarify that the radius which can remain constant during the elongation is that of the cylindrical envelope of the spring, not the coil itself."

Justice and Mathematics have also sparked interest with references to Poisson's coefficient in recent weeks, leading to comments on the French mathematician’s work on applying probability theory to judicial errors. In 1837, Simon-Denis Poisson published a study titled "Investigations on the Probability of Judgments in Criminal and Civil Matters." He wasn't the first to apply probability to judicial assessments; the Marquis de Condorcet, in 1785, published his work on the application of analysis to the probability of majority decisions, and Pierre-Simon Laplace attempted to calculate the probability of a correct judgment in 1814. Poisson's main contribution was incorporating statistical data and the law of large numbers to estimate the frequency of events — like erroneous judgments — over time. His work wasn't well-received initially in legal or scientific circles but eventually revealed its methodological significance. But that's a story for another day.

Tricky Questions and Gotchas have been the theme of recent weeks, with examples of "cooked" puzzles and tricky questions providing a good excuse to propose a few more. Be cautious, as knowing that these questions are tricky lessens their impact, but you still need to tread carefully to avoid stumbling over any of the following:

1. Over four consecutive years, how many months have 31 days, how many have 30, and how many have 28?

2. Is a question whose only possible answer you know in advance always redundant?

3. What was the tallest mountain in the world before it was known to be Mount Everest?

4. Why do most dogs sleep more hours in January than in February?

5. What animal hunts mice, meows, and scratches, but isn't a cat?

6. What happens if an irresistible force meets an immovable object? (As a curious anecdote, I first encountered this question in my childhood in a comic where Superman travels through time and collides with himself.)