How Christmas was

Some of you will know that this is the first Christmas since my father died, in June 2008. He had severe dementia, and died from a complication of Alzheimer’s disease, but very peacefully, in a hospital which turned out to have a very good reputation for palliative care.

This was also the year that a greatly valued friend unexpectedly had to leave the country, shortly after my father’s funeral. The government had for several months been boasting about how much better their new immigration rules would be at keeping people out of the country. Unfortunately they brought the “improved” rules shortly before she was due to renew her visa, and her application was rejected (wrongly, a lot of us believed, but an appeal is difficult and expensive). She had joined us at my sister’s house for the previous Christmas.

So I wasn’t at all sure how Christmas Day would be this time, and wasn’t looking forward to it very much.

One consequence of my father’s death has been that I’ve had less energy for certain things, so this year I allowed myself not to send Christmas cards if it felt too demanding, and so on. My feeling was that people would understand and that it was better to let myself enjoy Christmas than to let it become burdensome.

People did send me cards though 😉 and there were some nice surprise ones from people I’d not heard from for a long time, so one of the nicer tasks of the New Year is to get back in touch with them 🙂

In the event, Christmas was fine. We went to my sister’s as has been usual for the last few years. Both my nephews were there, with partners and with my four-year-old great-niece. I felt I’d done the right thing with the cards. It was a nice relaxed day. We remembered to watch the new Wallace and Gromit film (A Matter of Loaf and Death).

I’m still not quite ready for it to be 2009, and I’m definitely not ready to be 46 (my birthday was a few days ago), but as you can see I’m sort of back here again… I hope you all had good Christmases too, and that you enjoy 2009.

Some science humour

I’ve not been able to update this blog for a while and now I’ve only got a short session in the library, so I thought I’d begin with something I can post quickly. Here are some science-related pages which I think are quite fun…

General

  • How to Write a Scientific Paper: very funny article by E Robert Schulman in The Annals of Improbable Research, 1996. Possibly explains why so many papers read the way they do… and practises all its advice on the spot. [Note: I successfully accessed this the other day, but at the time of writing it is for some reason unavailable. I hope it comes back, because it really is brilliant!)

Apples and Oranges

In arguments, it’s traditional to accuse someone of “comparing apples with oranges”, as though it were impossible. A few scientists have pointed out that it’s actually quite easy to compare apples with oranges, and even written papers on it:

  • Apples and Oranges: A Comparison: Short article by Scott A Sandford, originally published in The Annals of Improbable Research, 1995.
  • Comparing apples and oranges: a randomised prospective study: A more impressively written up paper by James E Barone in the British Medical Journal, 2000. However, the claim to have analysed results using FudgeStat software from “Hypercrunch Corporation” raises my suspicions that the research may not be entirely authentic.

Well I’m out of time already, so the rest will have to follow, along with various other things I have in the pipeline…

Sanity and the Large Hadron Collider

Sorry this is a bit long–I’m trying to cram quite a lot of science into a rather small space–but not at anything like the speed of light 😉
Wednesday was the “start-up” of the Large Hadron Collider at CERN. As I’m sure you all know…

Encouraging the insanity

What should have been an exciting day was marred for me by all the persistent “end-of-the-world” hype in the media and on the Internet. There was a news report of a teenage girl in India who believed the stories enough to kill herself: she thought that when it was switched on, the Earth would be swallowed up by a black hole. It makes me angry that there’s so much misinformation around, both about what is/was being done and about the “likely” effects.

It makes me particularly angry to hear that small children, who one would hope would be getting excited about science in the same way that we as children got excited about space when we saw the moon landings, have instead been going around terrified of the end of the world.

Now, not everyone understands particle physics. But surely simple explanations are possible which address people’s fears. And one would hope that the media would search these out and pass them on.

OK, maybe that was a reckless statement, because I now have to try to write a simple explanation myself. And I’m not a particle physicist, just someone who did a physics-related subject at university. But here goes. [Edit: someone has now helpfully pointed out that as a blogger, I am one of the media. Hmmm…]

What are they doing?

Eventually (but not on Wednesday): trying to bash protons together at very high speeds, i.e. with a lot of energy. A proton is the heavy bit in the middle of a hydrogen atom. If you do this hard enough, the actual energy of the collision is converted into extra particles. One hope of the experiment is that these will include the famous Higgs Boson which everyone wants to find. Being a particularly heavy particle if it exists, it needs a lot of energy to make it, which means incredibly high speeds.

Wednesday: simply tests to check that a beam of protons, going at speeds that have been in use for years–not at the colossal speeds hoped for in future–could make it all the way round the 27-km circuit in a clockwise direction. Then a similar test to see if another beam could get round in the anticlockwise direction. No ultra-high energies. Not even two beams colliding with each other. Lots of very relieved engineers who’d spent years of their lives working on the project finally getting some indication that the machine might work. Bottles of champagne.

Given that what happened on Wednesday wasn’t even really new, it’s hard to see why so many people thought it was going to end the world. Unless maybe THE MEDIA didn’t bother to find out the facts properly and report them responsibly… Perish the thought.

Is it going to destroy the world, then?

We’ve heard a lot about various speculative ways for this to happen. Sadly we’ve heard a lot less about why nobody in the physics community thinks they’re the least bit likely. I suppose “nothing will happen” and “science fiction is fiction” aren’t really news. They’re not even particularly exciting. So they don’t get reported. I also suspect that to the physicists, who are intimately familiar with the science, the idea seems so fatuous that it barely seems to need explaining. Would you expect someone to come and ask you to explain why sailing over the horizon won’t make you drop off the edge of the world? No, because you’d have to change your whole view of the world you deal with every day.

CERN has produced a quite informative Safety page. What follows is a summary of that, with some additions from other sources. The CERN page also includes links to various safety reports and relevant scientific publications.

The experiment has happened already

In fact, it happens all the time. I’m talking about cosmic rays.

These are particles from space which routinely hit the earth, some at extremely high energies–considerably higher than the LHC is aiming for. So, in fact, the LHC experiment (and more energetic ones) is effectively happening in the Earth and its atmosphere every day. But at random and mostly without any fancy detectors to observe it. The LHC safety page points out that the Earth has already been hit by the cosmic-ray equivalent of about a million LHC experiments. Oddly, it still hasn’t been destroyed.

Is it really like cosmic rays, though? After all, cosmic rays don’t arrive all bunched together in a very thin beam. Might this make a difference? After all, we’ve got lots of collisions happening close together… Well I asked someone at the LHC about this and it turns out that the collisions are still WAY too far apart to have any effect whatever. So yes, it’s like cosmic rays.

Ways the world won’t end

Black holes: Could the LHC produce an earth-swallowing black hole? Well…

  • Standard theory says it can’t produce black holes at all. But if that’s wrong, then
  • the theories that think it can all say that the black holes would disappear in a tiny instant and have no chance to start growing.
  • a black hole that could grow and swallow its surroundings would need to start off as heavy as Mount Everest anyway. (Imagine trying to stuff a whole mountain into the machine and accelerate it to almost the speed of light…)
  • If the LHC could swallow up the earth in a black hole, then so could the cosmic rays which keep hitting us. Not only haven’t they succeeded, but there’s no sign that its happened anywhere else in the universe either.

Vacuum bubbles: As I understand it, these are part of a speculative theory where regions of the universe could “flip” into a different state, where matter would have different properties and we could not exist.

  • If the LHC could cause this, then high-energy cosmic rays would already have done it. The LHC is quite weedy in comparison
  • and actually there’s no evidence of ANYTHING having caused it anywhere in the observed universe.

Strangelets: the idea here is that the LHC produces a tiny lump of an exotic kind of matter, which then converts ordinary matter to strange matter when it comes in contact with it.

  • This is the opposite of what strange matter would be expected to do. If it can exist, it’s expected to convert itself immediately to ordinary matter.
  • The “possibility” was however explored before the start-up in 2000 of another machine, the Relativistic Heavy Ion Collider or RHIC, which was far more likely than the LHC to produce strangelets. Eight years on, it still hasn’t managed to produce any.
  • The particles to make strangelets can only stick together if they’re travelling slowly enough; the LHC simply bashes things together too fast. If the RHIC couldn’t do it, the RHC hasn’t a chance.

Magnetic monopoles: These are hypothetical particles a bit like magnets with only one end. (I have trouble imagining them!). Some theories think they could do nasty things to the protons in ordinary matter. However,

  • the theories that say they can do this also say they’re too heavy for the LHC to produce.
  • if the LHC could make them, then the cosmic rays that hit us are already making them, and have been for billions of years, with no ill effect.

So they’re either impossible for the LHC to make, or safe and here already.

Links

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank Seth Zenz at the LHC for answering my question about the concentrated beam, and for taking the trouble to read through this post to check I’d represented the science accurately.

Missing an old wordprocessor

Every so often, writing on my decrepit laptop at home or on the fast up-to-date PCs in the library, I find myself wondering when modern word processors like Word will catch up with the old one which I used from about 1989…

I’m talking about the Amstrad PCW8256, running a wordprocessing package called Locoscript 2. (Later, I upgraded to Locoscript 3!) The computer had 256 kB of memory (yes kilobytes not megabytes), though I eventually upgraded mine to 512 kB. It had no hard drive. Starting up the wordprocessor involved inserting a 360 kB disc, waiting until the grunting noises from the disc drive stopped, then taking it out to insert whatever disc my documents were on.

The computer had a specially designed keyboard, with extra keys which are absent from the standard PC one: in particular the [CUT], [COPY] and [PASTE] keys. Also unlike a standard PC keyboard, it had all the characters on it which you would have expected any decent typewriter to have. (Yes, I remember typewriters too…) And they were a comfortable distance apart–less stretching of the fingers was involved than on most PC keyboards.

As I recall–unless I had to upgrade the memory before I could use that version–Locoscript 2 fitted on one side of its 360k disc; the other side was used for extra fonts and things. Yet it could happily do useful things which in modern wordprocessors are either absent or very difficult. Features I particularly miss are:

  • Multiple clipboards for copying and pasting. I found this incredibly useful if I had a set of notes in a more or less random order and was trying to collect them into something organised. There were effectively 36 clipboards, labelled A-Z and 0-9. So if I wanted to collect the material together for a particular section of my document, I would simply go through the notes, and copy/cut each relevant one to one of the clipboards. Then when I’d got them all, [B][PASTE] A [PASTE] B [PASTE] C [PASTE] D[/B] etc. would plonk the contents of clipboards A, B, C, D… all down into the new location, nicely collected together in the desired order. You’ve no idea how clumsy and inefficient having just one clipboard seems after being used to working like that.
  • Search and replace for formatting codes, not just text. By formatting codes I mean the ones for bold type, italics etc. Suppose you decide that a particular word–say a name of a pub or something–should always appear in quotation marks. Then you change your mind and want it in italics, without the quotation marks. Simple: you search for all instances of “word in quotes”, and have them automatically replaces with word in italics.
  • Add any accent to any character. I think I’m right in saying that with current PCs running Windows, if you want a particular accent on a particular character then you’ve got to have a font installed that includes that particular accented character. Some are more difficult to come by than others. For example, I’ve searched and searched unsuccessfully for a c with a hacek on it (needed, for example, if I want to spell the composer Janacek properly, or even if I want to spell hacek properly), and I occasionally want to type Welsh words which have a circumflex accent on a w or a y: both very common in the Welsh language but completely lacking in the standard fonts. This was easy in Locoscript: accents are like separate characters, so you just type the accent, type the character, and get what you’re after.
  • No need to use 0.5 when you mean a half. How many times have you seen people type, say, 1.5 hours simply because it’s so hard to get at a half sign? (I mean, since when did we divide hours up into tenths? Units of six minutes? It’s crazy!) It leaps out as WRONG. No problem on the PCW: it was properly thought-out and you simply pressed the half key, located somewhere to the right of the spacebar. I still remember my shocked disbelief the first time I used a standard PC keyboard, was merrily typing away, then needed to type something-and-a-half. How could anything so utterly basic be missing?!
  • Add user-designed characters to a font. No font can cover absolutely everything that might be needed. In my case, I wanted to make notes on harmony, and I needed symbols which are used for that, such as a 6 above a 4, or a 9 above a 7 with a flat sign after the 9. Obviously those didn’t come with the font. But it was easy enough to create them, and add them as special characters.

The question is: if a wordprocessor which fitted on one small disc and ran on a computer with only 512k of memory could do all this, why can’t the memory-eating modern ones like Word do it? In particular, the multiple clipboards and the half sign seem to me like essentials in anything calling itself a wordprocessor, and ther absence makes present-day wordprocessors feel clumsy and amateurish in comparison–almost as if they’d accidentally missed out a letter of the alphabet or something.

And don’t get me started on the amateurishness of the DTP-like features of certain wordprocessors… Well not unless you want to. Let’s just say that some of the default settings are designed to make any document leap out as being amateurish and the first thing you have to do for any piece of serious work is to override them all…

There. That feels better! 🙂

Enjoyable concert: full rehearsal and concert day

I wrote the previous post after the first rehearsal. We had a second rehearsal on Friday night (with the choir and the full orchestra: Wednesday was just strings), and then a final rehearsal on Saturday afternoon, with the concert in the evening.

Friday rehearsal

The main thing that became apparent at the Friday rehearsal was that the orchestra seating was going to be very cramped. This is quite uncomfortable for a string player. The reason is probably quite obvious: you need to be able to move the bow freely without either jabbing somebody with the sharp end, poking them in the ribs with the blunt end, knocking anyone’s music over, or damaging the bow by hitting an immovable object such as a stone pillar with it. And you want to be able to sit at an angle which allows you to see the conductor, the leader and your music, and which also allows your “desk partner”–the person you share a music stand with–to do the same. And THEN you want to accomplish all this without getting a stiff back from sitting awkwardly.

Everything seemed fine until the cellos said they hadn’t got room to play. Obviously something had to be done about this, so we all moved a bit thereby sharing the discomfort out. Now we were all short of about an inch of space compared to what we needed, rather than the cellos each having a foot less than they needed. We shuffled around into carefully crafted positions which just about made playing possible. I remarked that an inch of movement in any direction would prevent me playing. Everyone else seemed to be in a similar situation. All the chairs were in exactly the right position and woe betide anyone who moved them…

Then the alarming announcement: during the first half of the concert, it would be necessary to completely dismantle the string section after the first piece, to make room for a piano. Then, after the piano had been finished with and trundled off again, we would have to restore the seating and play our string piece. Things like this add considerably to the stress of a concert! So I was rather apprehensive about how it would work out. (I once had the experience of playing the whole of Suk’s Serenade for Strings without being able to see the conductor at all, at a concert in which the wind players performed a piece on their own directly before ours, and moved all our seats around in the process.)

Dress rehearsal

The Saturday afternoon rehearsal was good. The choirs sang well, their improvement from the day before was quite noticeable, and they seemed likely to improve even more by the evening. The orchestra’s playing was good too. But the leader–remember I was sitting with her, at the front–had got a bad cold and a cough which was threatening to become uncontrollable. And she had lots of solo passages to play. So it was quite worrying that she had to leave the rehearsal several times in search of drinks, cough medicines and so on. What if the cough got out of control in the concert and stopped her playing at a crucial moment? Who would play the solos? Very possibly me, but whereas she’d spent time at home practising them to make them sound wonderful, I’d be sightreading them, during the concert…!

I’m sure people in audiences just go along and listen to the music, unaware that all this stuff is going on!

Concert

In the event it worked out fine. Katy was full enough of cough medicine and heaven-knows-what to be able to play without disruption, and somehow managed to be full of medication without her brain clouding over; the solos were absolutely beautiful, and our performance of the Vaughan Williams Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis seemed to take off–and miraculously, we did in fact manage to get our seats close enough to the original arrangement for us to be able to play it. And it was interesting hearing the original Thomas Tallis hymn–the one used by Vaughan Williams as the basis of the Fantasia–sung by a small choir at the back of the church before we played the actual piece.

It was quite a varied concert: music for big choir and full orchestra, for strings alone (the Fantasia), for choir and organ, for small unaccompanied choir (the Tallis hymn), and for solo singer and piano. (The solo singers were the baritone and soprano who would be singing in the second half for Fauré’s Requiem.)

So I enjoyed the concert, but was also very relieved when the first half was over, with all its potential sources of unwanted excitement. And judging by their response, the audience did too. The prolonged silence after the end of the Requiem before the applause started was a good sign; if the piece is performed well the audience like to enjoy the closing silence for a while before clapping. That’s very unnerving for the performers: it feels as though actually, they may never start clapping. But the enthusiastic applause then started, and we knew it had gone well.

And then off home, exhausted.