Proof that Math is Cool.
A Funny Letter to the Higgs-Boson
Dear Higgs Boson:
As I’m sure you’re aware, you were recently discovered by the folks at the Large Hadron Collider. So, now that we’ve found you, my first question is a bit obvious: You’re a hermit, right? If so, do you live in some sort of particle shack?
Anyway, given your hermitage, I bet you’ve missed out on a lot of the news. First and foremost, the media somewhat inexplicably dubbed you “the god particle.” Scientists tried to correct them and say that you were important, but not that important. I mean, it’s not like that you’re flying around and bringing things into existence on a Genesis-like schedule. (You’re not, right?)
The journalists ran with it, so now the scientists just cringe when they hear it. I’m not a scientist, but I agree that the “god particle” is a really silly name. It’s not like there weren’t other options. I mean, if they wanted to stick with the religious metaphors, maybe the media could call you the Blessed Pope John Paul II particle or the Very Reverend Higgs-Boson.
Given that you’re a pop-culture phenomenon already (you have your own iPhone game), I think we should give you a rap name instead. Here are a few options I came up with:
H.I.G.
H-Boson and His Crew of 125.3 gigaelectron volts
BigHiggy
The Dawg Particle
Needless to say, the “god particle” name has to go. What if we discover some particle more befitting of the name—say, a bearded world-creating particle—when the LHC eventually revs up to full power? I know that’s not particularly likely, but I certainly wouldn’t want to be the one to inform the deity particle that its proper name is already taken. Two words: Particle wrath.
By the way, I’m sure the PR people at CERN are pretty darn careful about their spelling. After all, one wouldn’t want to refer to the Large Hardon Collider. That sounds like a terrible, terrible project. And painful. (Yes, that joke was off-color, but it had to be made. When such jokes present themselves like that, you have to take it. Just like free cake.)
Dirty jokes aside: Higgs, you probably missed all the hilarious drama about the whole LHC facility to begin with. Long story short: A couple of know-nothings sued in an attempt to prevent the Large Hadron Collider from commencing operation. They made a number of wild accusations, most notably that the LHC would create “strangelets” or “micro black holes” that would lead to the destruction of the planet.
The funny part is, in their legal brief they said the following about the particle collisions at the LHC: Various competing theories of physics predict various outcomes from these collisions, with no agreement amongst physicists as to what the outcome will be.
Almost immediately after this, they make a number of very, very specific claims about what could happen. Their argument is, in effect: Stop the LHC because we don’t know that it won’t cause these really bad things to happen.
Higgs, if this is the standard of proof necessary to stop a scientific experiment, we’re in trouble. After all, it’s not impossible that the LHC could produce other equally improbable (but good!) results: onions that don’t taste awful (I hate onions), porcupines that give pain-free hugs, or pop songs with meaningful, thoughtful lyrics. So I say, we must keep the Higgs going because it might produce these awesome, but wholly improbable, results.
Clearly, Higgs, one needs evidence to substantiate one’s claims, and fear alone is not evidence. While the plaintiffs had a very basic point—we don’t know what’ll happen!—it wasn’t the point they thought. While there are certainly competing theories about subatomic physics, that’s exactly the reason the LHC was built in the first place: to figure some of this stuff out.
Besides, we have a pretty good idea what we are doing. We’ve been smashing atoms for decades, and higher-energy collisions happen all the time in outer space. If they did create micro black holes or strangelets, you think we’d notice.
Not surprisingly, the silly lawsuit was thrown out post-haste. (My favorite part was that they filed their suit in Hawaii, though the LHC is located in France/Switzerland. That’s like suing Mexico to get the Canadians to stop playing hockey.)
Anyway, now that you’re discovered: Welcome! We look forward to getting to know all about you.
Take care,
Brett Ortler
The Higgs Boson from Particle Zoo, Courtesy of http://www.particlezoo.net
A Litany Science Roundup
The Folks at CERN and the Large Hadron Collider seem to have a boatload of evidence suggesting they’ve spotted the Higgs Boson, the famed subatomic particle that may go a long way to furthering our understanding of physics. They will be making an announcement on Wednesday.
Stateside, the folks at Fermilab made a little noise with their own announcement and indicated with some confidence that they’ve spotted it, too. (This is sort of a last hurrah for the Fermilab, which was shut down late last year.) Taking all of that together, while an outright “discovery” is not likely to be claimed (yet), it’s looking like a pretty good bet that the Higgs is out there somewhere.
If you can’t wait to get outright proof that the Higgs exists, you can actually get a plush version of it (and dozens of other plush subatomic particles) at The Particle Zoo. They are absolutely adorable.
Lego ATLAS model, photo courtesy of Sacha Mehlhase
Speaking of the LHC, it has also been memorialized in Lego form. Sascha Mehlhase, a scientist at the Niels Bohr Center’s Discovery Institute has created a Lego version of the ATLAS Detector at the LHC. It is, in short, amazing. Read more all about it here or see the official page here.
While the wife and I are certainly not doomsday preppers, we’ve been a fan of post-apocalyptic movies/TV for as long as I can remember. Jericho, Walking Dead, Falling Skies, you name it: We generally love it. I’ve always been fascinated–and utterly terrified–of nuclear weapons. So I occasionally read about nuclear physics and the like, and when I do I sometimes stumble on some interesting reading.
Two examples: The first is a report created for the government about the damage an EMP (Electromagnetic Pulse) attack would cause. The cool part is–instead of simply theorizing about damage–they tested actual equipment under the conditions of an attack.
The results were kind of surprising, at least compared to what end-of-the-world-we’re-all-gonna-die-shows tell you.
A few fun facts: Not all cars will go dead. Even some relatively newer models (early 2000s) may survive, and damage they sustain would usually (but not always) be relatively minor. Even better, cars that are not running probably won’t be affected at all. (Note: This all may not be true when it comes to so-called Super-EMP devices, however.)
Also: Microwaves are de facto Faraday cages. As I understand it, they are actually inside-out ones, built to keep EM radiation (in this case, microwaves) in. This explains why microwave doors often have wire mesh embedded in them. (EM radiation will travel through glass, but the wire will essentially divert the EM energy). This means they’d probably help you save your Droid in a pinch. Downside? You’ll never to get have service again.
The Second Example is an old Civil Defense Booklet: Fallout Protection, produced at the height of the Cold War. Interesting, but grim, reading.
At the end of the workdays in the summer, I often get a bit antsy. That’s not because I’m excited to go fishing or head up north, it’s because I want to hunt—for agates. One of my favorite places to agate hunt is at a local landscaping company, and they close promptly at 5 p.m., so if I want to get some quality hunting in, I have to keep an eye on the clock.
I live toward the northern reaches of what is referred to as the “Anoka sand plain” and it’s as depressing as it sounds: it is largely devoid of rocks. To further compound my agate misery, my wife and I almost never have time to drive up to the prime agate-hunting territory near the North Shore. Nevertheless, thanks to local landscaping companies, I’m still able to hunt for agates.
Landscaping companies sell Lake Superior gravel, which is mined from gravel deposits left behind by the glaciers. This gravel is used for a variety of different purposes, including as a decorative stone, as roofing gravel, and for road construction. Because of liability concerns, obtaining permission to hunt at landscaping companies can be tricky, so expect to be rejected. If you persist and ask around enough, however, you’ll likely find somewhere to hunt. When you do, Lake Superior gravel is often labeled “river rock”; be sure to search amid reasonably large sized stones, I prefer searching in 1½” river rock. That way, when you find an agate, it’s sure to have some heft to it.
Good hunting!
Dear Mars Science Laboratory/Curiosity Rover,
It’s been fun to follow your Twitter feed and Facebook posts, and I’m pretty stoked for your landing in August.
My favorite part of your mission is the ChemCam, as I’m rather interested in the geology/chemistry of the planet (I’m a rock geek). Oh, who am I kidding, I’m really just excited that you’ll be carrying a laser(!) and will be vaporizing rocks on another planet.
I can’t believe I just typed that. It’s incredibly awesome. It’s a pretty good thing that I’m not in charge of the rover. I’d probably just drive around blowing stuff up. It’d be like a Sylvester Stallone movie. By the time I was done there wouldn’t be much left of the planet.
If I may ask, does the person who is in charge of the ChemCam laser have a special title? If not, they deserve one immediately. After all, they have the coolest job imaginable. Not only do they get to work for NASA, they also get to vaporize things on another planet on behalf of NASA and all mankind.
Of course, there’s only one suitable nickname for the operator of a laser on Mars: Marvin. An important question: can the laser operator do a good Marvin the Martian impression? If so, when they fire the laser for the first time, they should do so while doing a Marvin the Martian impression. You should record this and post it online. This would be huge on Twitter, I’m sure.
If they don’t do a good Marvin impression, mine is passable. I’d be happy to record an MP3 for them to use, either for that or for their ring tone/entrance music to a room.
Speaking of music, maybe you can resolve a dispute for me. My father and I often chat about space missions, as we’re both fans of astronomy, and I mentioned the other day that the Opportunity Rover has driven over 21 miles on Mars. He immediately said, “Well that’s a long time to be alone, I bet it’s humming as it’s driving along.”
While we both agree that this is likely, we disagree what it’d be humming. He thinks it opts for the dramatic: Strauss’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra from 2001 or Gustav Holt’s oh-so-appropriate Mars: Bringer of War. Given that the Mer Rover is relatively small, the size of a golf cart, that seems a little dramatic. That’s sort of like blasting heavy metal as you tool around in a Geo Metro.
I bet the rover is humming along to something more playful, like the “Manama” song from the Muppets or the theme to Super Mario Brothers. Which do you think is more likely?
Finally, I wish you the best of luck with the landing. I know landing on a different planet is a pretty tricky business, and I know you’re trying out the new landing approach—the sky crane. (By the way, that sounds a lot like a professional wrestling move.)
I hope all goes well and look forward to your dispatches from the Red Planet.
Take Care,
Brett Ortler
So as I’ve been proceeding on the Periodic Coffee Table, I’ve found myself having a bit of trouble keeping track of what I already had, what I had in pure form and whatnot. So to clear things up I created a Periodic Table Template in Word. For those of you who would like to download it, you can do so here. (The linked file is blank, but resembles my updated one below.) You can use the template for whatever you’d like–consider it released into the public domain–but if you really dig it, I’d appreciate a link sent my way. (Also, if I typed something incorrectly or royally screwed anything up, let me know. I compiled it rather hastily.)
Without future adieu, here’s the status of my periodic coffee table. As the legend indicates, I’ve got pure samples of the elements marked with dark green shading, decent samples of the elements marked in radioactive green, and I’m still looking for those marked in white. The ones in red are impossible/dangerous to obtain, of course.
I’m hoping to knock out a bunch of these soon. (And I should have marked aluminum, as I obviously already have a pure sample. My bad.)
|
1 H |
The Poor Man’s
Periodic (Coffee) Table
|
2 He |
|||||||||||||||
|
3 Li |
4 Be |
5 B |
6 C |
7 N |
8 O |
9 F |
10 Ne |
||||||||||
|
11 Na |
12 Mg |
13 Al |
14 Si |
15 P |
16 S |
17 Cl |
18 Ar |
||||||||||
|
19 K |
20 Ca |
21 Sc |
22 Ti |
23 V |
24 Cr |
25 Mn |
26 Fe |
27 Co |
28 Ni |
29 Cu |
30 Zn |
31 Ga |
32 Ge |
33 As |
34 Se |
35 Br |
36 Kr |
|
37 Rb |
38 Sr |
39 Y |
40 Zr |
41 Nb |
42 Mo |
43 Tc |
44 Ru |
45 Rh |
46 Pd |
47 Ag |
48 Cd |
49 In |
50 Sn |
51 Sb |
52 Te |
53 I |
54 Xe |
|
55 Cs |
56 Ba |
72 Hf |
73 Ta |
74 W |
75 Re |
76 Os |
77 Ir |
78 Pt |
79 Au |
80 Hg |
81 Tl |
82 Pb |
83 Bi |
84 Po |
85 At |
86 Rn |
|
|
87 Fr |
88 Ra |
104 Rf |
105 Db |
106 Sg |
107 Bh |
108 Hs |
109 Mt |
110 Ds |
111 Rg |
112 Cn |
113 Uut |
114 Fl |
115 Uup |
116 Lv |
117 Uus |
118 Uuo |
|
|
57 La |
58 Ce |
59 Pr |
60 Nd |
61 Pm |
62 Sm |
63 Eu |
64 Gd |
65 Tb |
66 Dy |
67 Ho |
68 Er |
69 Tm |
70 Yb |
71 Lu |
|||
|
89 Ac |
90 Th |
91 Pa |
92 U |
93 Np |
94 Pu |
95 Am |
96 Cm |
97 Bk |
98 Cf |
99 Es |
100 Fm |
101 Md |
102 No |
103 Lr |
|||
I am Legend:
|
Element in pureish form (>90 percent) |
|
|
Element present in some form |
|
|
Too dangerous/not possible |
|
|
In progress |
While much of my attention has been directed to my new science project–designing a space-themed room for Oliver, my soon-to-be-hatched son, I have been working away on the periodic coffee table as well. One element I had not yet obtained was iodine, until today when I decided to play mad scientist and make some.
Given the rather rudimentary nature of my lab equipment (Newman’s own jars are the best!), I didn’t make a very large batch of iodine crystals, and I’m not going to walk you through the process here, as it can be dangerous if you’re not careful. (Long story short: The process produces chlorine, a poisonous gas, which is pretty nasty stuff, so be sure to do this outside. Chlorine wasn’t one of the first chemical weapons for nothin’.) The hydrochloric acid can also cause injury, if you’re not careful.
If you’re interested in performing this reaction, check out this link for instructions, but be sure to do your homework first, and wear gloves and goggles.
Anyway, once you’re through, you’ll produce I2, which consists of pure elemental iodine. (They are the shimmery particles at the top of the mixture.) After filtering, I put a few of these crystals in a glass ampoule, where they will represent iodine in the periodic coffee table.
