Steamed about physics

I've bought a new book.

I'm a long-time Terry Pratchett fan. I have several books signed by him, have met him in the process of said signing, and have even helped to interview him on BBC Radio 4, talking about the novel Mort and other things Discworld. He is as genial and sharp a chap as you would expect him to be, and I'm going to shut up now, or several friends of mine will be visiting me to give me a good kicking...

Because I enjoy reading, I am often known to have failed to go to bed at nights, simply due to the fact I didn't want to put a book down. However, I already had something else I wanted to do today, so I went into town, picked up the copy of Raising Steam I had reserved (nearly coming away with an expensive slipcased version in the process), and dropped it off at home before heading off out again.

By the time I returned home, Julie had come back from work and had her tea (evening meal, for non-English folks). We chatted a little, and after a little while, Julie asked me if I had got hold of my book yet.

"OH, yes."

She smiled, and asked the question I had been expecting.

Uhhhh... what?

DN-eh?

Please allow me to introduce ZME science.

I have been following ZME Science for a few years now. While it isn't as big as some other blogs, it is most certainly enthusiastic and cheerfully tackles many topics that stretch the definition of 'science', such as archaeology, which is history with a whole mess of science thrown in for good measure.

A relatively recent addition to ZME is a section for questions and answers. Anyone can ask a question, and anyone can also provide responses to or rate questions. Even more recently, they have also started up a contest on their Q&A page, with a rather wonderfully science-themed prize; the chance to find out your genetic lineage via a DNA test. You could find out that your father's great-great-great grandfather originated in Tibet, while your mother had some seriously Scottish ancestry.

Well, I don't know about you, but I'm definitely going to enter. If you want to, visit this particular blog post to find out more...

Mind you, Julie wasn't too keen on the idea.

I'm not sure, but that may have been a very subtle and unconscious play on words, involving 'box' and the fact that 'reincarnated' sounds sort of, possibly maybe, maybe not similar to the word 'carton'. Perhaps.

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What - you're still here? Don't be daft - get over to ZME Science and get your entry to this contest in right now! The prize is available globally, according to my contact, and the closing date is July 31st 2013

Cause and effect overturned

Julie likes to enter competitions in the magazines she buys, the sort where there are loads of puzzles and prizes of varying worth. I'm not condemning this, not at all. I enter prize draws whenever I can myself. The main difference between our habits is that hers come from printed magazines and mine are generally found online.

We haven't won any holidays yet, although we have both got some decent prizes. I have won a fair few books and Julie got various games. My personal best was a brand new blender and a month's supply of Greek yoghurts. The yoghurts were rather tasty, although after a month of them, I was glad to see the back of them. My sister was a happy camper though; she had just moved into a new flat and called dibs on the blender. As we already had one blender, one which didn't see much in the way of action, it made sense for me to pass the blender over to a suddenly cheerful sibling.

Julie, in the meantime, stayed with the gaming theme for her top prize - a Mario Kart Nintendo Wii box set. Sweet. It's not my wife's cup of tea, but I was most definitely chuffed to bits.

Some time after Julie's big win, her brother came round for a visit. It didn't take long for the subject of the win to be raised. Never mind the pride and excitement, it's a little difficult to cover up a gaming console when it's attached to the front of the TV...

Colin, Julie's brother, was properly pleased for her, and asked how she had managed to win it. Julie then explained that it was one of the many contests she played for in her magazines. In this case, a sudoku puzzle magazine. As we chatted about the contests, we both had to admit that while we had had a few wins, it was more often the case that we didn't win anything. In fact, Julie has yet to win anything from any magazine other than the sudoku one. It's a little frustrating, as there are lots of decent prizes in the other periodicals. However, as I have pointed out a few times, it's all down to how many people actually enter the competitions. The sudoku puzzles are very specific, which means the fewer people chancing their luck have better odds. It hasn't put Julie off them though. As she says, you have to be in it to win it.

Well, that's not strictly true. What Julie  actually said was this:

I'm not sure, but beneath the loopy language, I have a feeling Julie just violated the laws of time and space...

Timey-wimey went all wibbly-wobbly

Every now and then, I find there isn't a lot I can say to explain or pad out the details of a Gem. This is one of those occasions.
Essentially, there was a little confusion over what the time was, and Julie had read a clock wrongly. Unfortunately, her reasoning for her failure was rather more 'fail' than 'reason'...

Even now, neither of us can work out just what she meant.

No man is an island, however...

Usually, if I ask Julie a question in Trivial Pursuit (or another quiz) to which she does not know the answer, then her knack for coming up with a reply that is off the wall and out of the window will usually come up trumps. During this game, though, the wine consumed was taking its effect and snappy answers were becoming a tad rarer. Don't get me wrong, my wife was still apt to verbal shenanigans, it just took a little longer, that's all.
All the same, I was caught wrong-footed by her answer to this question. I mean, I bet I can imagine the answer some of you could come up with...*

In light of the alcohol consumption, I did wait a little while for Julie to complete the word 'mountaineer', but was ultimately forced to facepalm...

In case you were wondering, the answer was 'during take-off', because John Glenn was an astronaut.


*Jogging, of course...

Getting personal with a planet

In case you are unfamiliar with the board game Trivial Pursuit, Allow me to shed some light on the matter. Essentially, it's a pub quiz for the family to enjoy within the comforts of their own homes. There are six categories for each player or team to answer questions on; Geography, History, Entertainment, Art and Literature, Science and Nature, and Sport. Here's a sample of one of the question cards.

Now, the thing is you can't help but look at and read at least one or two of the other questions on the card. Even if you are only supposed to read the brown question, you are likely to have more than a glimpse at the first question and the two on either side of the proper one. And if something catches your eye, then this is going to be even more applicable.
I can't recall what question Julie WAS supposed to be asking me, but it's largely irrelevant, in the light of her inadvertent discovery of the science question elsewhere on that card...

There's not a lot I can say to that. Did I mention (yesterday) that alcohol was being consumed?

Venus in Blurred Jeans and other shenanigans

They say a week is a long time in politics. It's also a long time in science, weather, blogging and - more to the point - it's a long time for Julie to remember things that people may have said.

A week ago, the orbit of the planet Venus happened to pass between us and the sun, resulting in some first class pictures and a lot of scientific data. A little closer to home, where Jubilee mania was well and truly in full swing, the transit of Venus resulted in confusion and a somewhat baffling Gem, courtesy of one of my colleagues. This was posted on Friday. On the following day, Julie and myself were sat in the living room, and I asked if she had read the Gem yet. As it happened, she had, but - touching upon an earlier conversation we'd had - wanted to make a point about it. I was completely unprepared for the resulting conversation.

In other words, you have been warned.
Now read on.

I was absolutely speechless. Just when it seemed Julie couldn't up the 'Odd' ante any more, there she went.
Epic. Truly epic.

Transitory Jubilations

Nationally, and internationally, there have been some big reasons for hogging the headlines in a positive manner. One of them was the very recent transit of the planet Venus across the face of the sun. It took a few days to do it, but it was easily visible to anyone who had the most rudimentary of equipment. Even a pair of cheap binoculars would have done it - although you had to take precautions, naturally. Even with a little disc taken off, there's plenty of light to cause permanent damage to your eyes. Take a look at this cunning device for eclipse-watching.

Clever, eh? Would it have been worth looking like a wally, though, just to see a little dot on the face of the sun? Well, yes. Don't take my word for it, here's a picture of Venus set against the sun, taken on June 4th.

In case you weren't sure, that little black circle is Venus, set against
a magnificent dawning sun.

Beautiful, isn't it?*
Sadly, by the time you read this, it will all be over, bar the dissection of data gathered by various scientists. The last time it happened was back in 2004, but don't get excited, because I can pretty much guarantee you'll never have a chance to see it first-hand again. You see, this particular phenomenon only occurs in widely space pairs over an even more widely-spaced period of time. Here's a good description of the science bit - with no difficult parts.

I was talking about this to a female colleague of mine last week, as we sat in the canteen at work. At another table, one of our other colleagues was sat playing a game on his phone. Most of the talk was between my female friend and myself and it was a little vague, because we were excitedly talking at cross-purposes about the transit and trying to explain it to yet another colleague.
The point we were especially trying to make was the need for him to pull his finger out and make plans to either observe the transit of Venus or book a berth in a cryogenics facility. After all, it was literally a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, as my female colleague explained - before the game-player suddenly jumped in and came up with a comment that blew us all out of the water, metaphorically speaking.

Nice one, mate. Science to a diamond jubilee in one giant and very uneasy step. In case you weren't aware from our last post, Queen Elizabeth has reigned over Britain and certain Commonwealth countries for sixty years now. This fact has elicited a massive jubilee, resulting in a four-day weekend for many and street parties all over.
Quite what this has to do with a planet crossing the face of the sun, I'm not sure, but I suppose I can't really deny he was actually quite correct. Her Majesty, even ignoring her currently advanced age, will never get another chance to see Venus taking a leisurely stroll across our nearest star.
Oh well.

*ZME Science (a superb general science blog by an enthusiastic amateur) has an excellent article with even better photographs, so why not trot along and enrich your mind.

Ships sounding out a physics fail

Every now and then, you'll come across something that causes a sea-change in the way we perceive the universe and its workings. Einstein proved that Newton didn't have it all covered. Darwin showed us there was no cosmic watchmaker. And Julie now tells us that hitherto indivisible physical concepts can actually be separated out.
See this piece of string?

What do you have if you cut it in half? Instead of one piece of string, you have two smaller pieces of string.
What don't you have if you cut it in half? You don't have two half  pieces of string.

Odd, isn't it? If someone rips a piece of paper in half you have two pieces of paper, not halves. On the other hand, if that swine rips up a twenty-pound note in front of you, then there will be two halves of a note. And a mad scramble for a roll of sticky tape. It seems it's only when things become more specific and defined that you are allowed to half, quarter, fifth (etc) them.

The same principle applies to noises. If someone whistles, then it's a whistle, even if they are suddenly cut short. On the other hand, if you talk about it musically, then our friend with the pursed lips can be said to have tweeted a minim, crotchet, or whatever.

See?

That said, some things are still indivisible. A hole is a hole is a hole. You can't prise apart a clap.* And a bell peal is a bell peal, regardless of length.
Until now. Fancy another Trivial Pursuit question? Of course you do.

Tell me; what's the weath... physics like on your planet?

*Death of Terry Pratchett's Discworld would beg to differ with this statement.

New to IKEA: vari-dimensional table-tops

Picture the scene; we are in a cafe, enjoying a brief respite from the trudging around town. As you can guess, weariness is a given. Hence, since Julie isn't really concentrating, she puts her elbow down on what she thinks is the edge of the table, only to find that she's off by a good couple of inches.
DOWN goes the elbow and OUT comes this comment...

Time for the Default Husband Comment.
"Yes, dear!" (roll eyes, shrug shoulders and try not to laugh too much)

Guest starring the hairy cueball...

A friend and her mother... actually, no, let's start this one again.
You may recall a recent post where a friend and her mother were at a country fair, and the mother came out with a Gem of such magnitude that her own daughter dropped back and tried to pretend she was with someone else. Can't remember it? Tell you what, have a look here and refresh your memories.
Good stuff, yes?
Any way, back to the present moment; as it happens, they were watching the TV, when someone familiar to the mother popped up on-screen.

Not the best description in the world, but if you know who she was talking about, then it makes a little more sense. Say 'hello' to Jamie from the TV show Mythbusters.

See what I mean? Jamie - under the ever-present beret* - is bald as a coot, but doesn't he have a most impressive set of facial hair? So, yes, my friend's mum was actually correct, despite the Gem-standard oxymoron. Jamie is 'the bald bloke with the hair' (yes, I know facial hair is technically 'bristles', but it's still hair).


*I did try to find a picture of Jamie without his beret, but it just wasn't happening.

Photoshop is now a surgical instrument

Two and a half years ago, Julie had an operation, one that has changed her life in so many ways. It's a common operation these days, but the really nice thing is that the team behind the procedure like to hold an annual get-together for all their patients, past and present, and their respective partners. It's a wonderful little do, supremely English, in that it's a garden party and serving little bite-sized nibbles instead of laying on the carbohydrates and drowning them in beer.
For everyone involved, it's a chance to put on a little finery and allow it to see sunlight instead of the sickly glow of a pub or nightclub....
...sorry, I think I need to disengage my cynicism circuits...
Joking apart, I have enjoyed it on both of the occasions we have gone, and I know Julie has too. It's a chance to meet up with people who have been in a similar position. More importantly though, people can get to meet once more the surgeons who have effectively saved their lives.
Admittedly, it is something of a PR stunt, in that there are photographers from a newspaper or a magazine there each time, but that only adds to the experience. Especially in view of the fact that the photographers allow people to grab hold of any photos they may be in and use them for themselves. Saves cramming yourselves into a photo booth, doesn't it?

Julie isn't the only one with a health problem. I have suffered from severe headaches and migraines since I was a wee lad of seven. Over the years, I have been from doctor to doctor and tried the gods know how many different types of medication and/or painkiller. I have tried Herbal remedies and a Chinese herbalist, neither of which achieved anything apart from a substantially lighter wallet. Of course, there can be and are many different triggers, all of which I try to avoid.
One such trigger, however, is light. My eyes are particularly weak and so, like U2's Bono (and for the same reason), I need to wear sunglasses of varying tints pretty much all of the time, regardless of whether I am outdoors or in.
It causes a few odd looks and jeers now and then, but sod 'em; I've avoided a headache. On the other hand, it can be a bone of contention between me and Julie on occasion.

Um. Thanks, love.

Einstein gets a headache.

During a working, week, our habit is to sit down quietly for a while when we get home. Sometimes, it's on our own, sometimes we sit together and have a cup of tea and a chat on how our days have been. For me, this normally doesn't take long, as work in a warehouse doesn't lend itself to stimulating conversation. Julie works in a more dynamic environment and there's usually plenty to talk about; she's always busy and there's plenty of idiots to laugh/moan about.
One day, we sat in the lounge and Julie was rather subdued. Concerned, I asked if she was alright. She was fine, but it appears that she'd had something of a hectic day and was pretty knackered. Then again, as Julie put it....

Julie saw me giving her The Look and said, "What? That makes sense, doesn't it?"
No, love, I'm afraid it doesn't. I mean, I know Einstein said that time was relative, but I don't think he meant it that way...
Besides which, hasn't some clever set of scientists just proved that time travel is impossible? Spoilsports...