Sunday, November 9, 2008

American Haiku

My Dad's just sent me this beautiful text, which I find reminiscent of the Japanese haiku, published by Roger Cohen in the International Herald Tribune.

Rosa Parks sat in 1955.
Martin Luther King walked in 1963.
Barack Obama ran in 2008.
That our children might fly.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Barack Obama: the impossible post

Here we are. Barack Obama is the 44th elected President of the United States of America. My President. Thank God. That's unbelievable. I guess I'll realize in the next few days, and definitely on January 20 when he's officially invested.

This post is simply impossible to write. Probably everything has been said. And I won't be able to express in this note my relief, my happiness, my hopes. I don't need to mention that the election of Obama is a great news for the international diplomacy, a fantastic hope for the minorities, and perhaps a new start in the fight of global warming. Nor I have to say that he'll be having a tough time to cope with a financial crisis and two wars, that he's gonna be judged on what he's achieved or not, bla bla bla.

What I can tell you, however, is my excitement last Tuesday 4 November. I had voted weeks before, so all I had to do was to wait for the evening. For the night. And for the historical result. After reloading approximately 2634 times my web browser, and frenetically zapping between CNN, CNBC and the french TV channels, I went to bed at 3:00am, exhausted but confident. Therefore, I was peacefully sleeping when Barack delivered his touching, beautiful acceptance speech at Grant Park, in Chicago. I wish I were there.

Since the election day, what has probably made me happiest is the change of perception of the USA throughout the World. Finally. I regret the widespread anti-americanism in Europe, and especially in France. A socially well-accepted racism, which even eight catastrophic years of Bush administration should never justify. Anyway, I hope that this will change now. Time for change has come.

Barack Obama is not yet President. So far he's an icon. What an icon!

Thursday, October 9, 2008

I'm not a Joe Six Pack (and I don't like hockey either)

Last 24 February, 65.05% of the registered electors in the Canton de Genève voted in favour of a new law aimed at banning dangerous dogs in the city. I'm not Swiss so I was not able to express my opinion. No doubt I would have also voted in favor of that law: nothing repels me more than a big, aggressive dog. Wait a sec. Something does repel me more: a big, aggressive dog with lipstick. Yeah, this is really dangerous.

Fortunately, the law is now effective. Thank God, there's no risk to see in town the possibly future US Vice-President - a retarded bumpkin known as Sarah Palin, self-baptized Pit Bull with lipstick. I'll never thank enough the Swiss voters. I would love to thank as well my US compatriots in the early morning of Wednesday, November 5th. I believe that Barack Obama could be a very good US President for the next 4 years. I may be wrong of course. But I know that McCain and his hockey-mum Pit Bull would be disastrous for the USA... and beyond.

Sarah Palin has obviously no clue about anything. For those who have not followed carefully the character, let me recall briefly how could be the world with Sarah Palin as Vice-President. First of all, the Peace Nobel Prize would be awarded to a "Joe Six Pack" (you know, the real, the authentic American, not like those crooks in Washington, DC) or a "Hockey Mum" (the female version of the Joe Six Pack, I guess). Then, the firmly established creationism theory would of course be taught at school (even though Darwinism may be tolerated and could even be taught on equal footing - shocking). Dangerous terrorists like Barack Obama be sent to jail. She wouldn't have to fight global warming since "it cannot be attributed to being man-made", as everybody knows. For sure the international diplomacy would be the cornerstone of her Vice-Presidency. As she confessed herself to the CBS journalist Katie Couric (see below), "Russia's proximity to Alaska makes me experienced" when asked about her experience in foreign policy. So sweet.



Could this Lady Bull be a breath away from becoming President of the USA? You must be joking! Just for fun, even though it's scaringly accurate, below's a very funny chart summarizing her debate with Joe Biden, the experienced and diplomatic vice-presidential nominee for the Democratic Party.


I don't know who's gonna be elected next November 4th. Like everybody else, I wait and hope. But one thing for sure, Governor Palin, don't count on my vote. You betcha!

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Madonna, the Pope and Mr. Brown

Despite her name, Madonna's probably not a virgin. But she's definitely - and she will remain - an agitator. I told you the other day about the funny version of Like a Virgin by Big Daddy. Believe it or not, there's an even funnier one! The singer is... oh my god. The singer's Madonna. In Rome. A couple of days ago. And that song is dedicated to somebody's special, Joseph Alois Ratzinger, aka Benedict XVI, aka the Pope. The full video is here.

This song reminds me the unforgettable opening scene of Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs. Remember Mr Brown! Guess what, I've just found this Granny long version on Youtube... Hilarious! For those of you who do not know the scene I refer to (and who may not be too offended by the "explicit" dialogs) have a look at the original version (only the first few minutes) or read the script. And then click below. And enjoy!



Note added: I've just realized that it is actually a commercial for the video game Reservoir Dogs which came out in 2006.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

William A. Blanc, or the Swiss Spirit

It probably happened to you. What I know for sure is that it happened to me. Going to work one morning (so, has this ever happened to you? no joke, wait and see). And when I'm just about to get in my car, I realize that my rear-view mirror is broken. Well, not really broken, the plastic cover around the mirror was simply displaced, and - surprisingly - I even knew how to repair it. Which I did in a couple of minutes. After blaspheming a little while for the fun of it, and because I thought this was the kind of thing people do when they realize that somebody has crashed their rear-view mirror without letting any message, I get in my car, go to work, and completely forgot about this very minor fact of (my) life, I admit. Which definitely happened to you as well.

Act II took place roughly a couple of weeks later. Location: my building. More precisely my mailbox. A small envelope. My name, my address, no doubt it's for me. And it's handwritten. Weird. I open it and here's the letter I found:

Dear Sir,

while trying to avoid a scooter, my rear-view left mirror hit the right one of VW Polo 626995. After a lot effort, I managed to get your name. My insurance [...] will compensate and should contact you soon [...] I'm sorry about this unfortunate incident which happened twice to me, each time without hearing anything from the culprit!

Best regards,
William A. Blanc
GE20539
Now, honestly, has this ever happened to you? I doubt it. Because William A. Blanc is - unfortunately - a rare animal. Who managed to get my name from my plate number, who sent me the letter above, and who contacted right away his insurance for me to be reimbursed (which I won't since there wasn't much to repair). And for your information, in case you're being too cynical or skeptical, I indeed received in the meantime the notification from his insurance. Why the hell did he do all this? Probably he didn't ask himself that question. It was simply natural. But William, let's face it, it's everything but natural. In the sense that 99.9% of the population would have vanished without track. You know the saying: leave no evidence behind.

It's usually fun to laugh at Swiss. I do it myself every now and then. Their strictness or inflexibility can sometimes be a real pain. But the thing I really like with those people is their honesty. Of course it's a cliché. Of course it's probably not so true. But definitely, I have enough examples which make me think that Swiss people are, intrinsically, honest. Last example was not later than this afternoon, when friends at CERN told me about the existence of a bakery near Lausanne without any seller: go there, take your bread and leave a coin. And if you don't have money with you, no big deal, let your name on a piece of paper and you'll pay twice next time you come! I let you imagine that very bakery in France, or in almost any other country...

I just wanted to thank you, Bill, for having hurt my rear-window mirror and all that. It's good to know that there are some people like you. And you fellow reader, if you happen to hit a mirror some day, thanks for letting your phone number. Who knows, that could be the car of my Swiss friend, William A. Blanc.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Madonna 50s

I've just heard on the radio an hilarious version, very 1950s like, of Madonna's famous Like a Virgin. It's performed by Big Daddy, a band from LA in the 80s. I also strongly recommend their version of Dire Straits' Money for Nothing.



Now all I want is to take my pink Caddy and have a juicy burger in that diner of Miami South Beach...

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

The Big Five

I'm in trouble. Well, not in deep trouble though, don't worry. It's just that my little sister Roxane gave me a brilliant idea after I sent her a postcard from my vacation a few weeks ago in Florida. Inspired by my visit of the Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral, I wrote her "I would have loved, so, so much being Neil Armstrong". After which she asked me what would me my Top 5. Perfect subject for my blog I first thought. But God that's difficult.

I have the 5 names. Don't look at them now, that's cheating (too late, I know). I don't actually know the details of their lives, for most of them. Most probably I wouldn't even have "loved being" them at all, strictly speaking. But those persons have made something truly amazing, so I thought they deserved to be here. After that preamble, let's start!

The first one was the really easy, obvious one to me. Neil Armstrong is my number 1. Neil, if you happen to read my blog: I love you!!! (and with very days in advance, let me wish you a very happy 78th birthday) The Moon. That guy landed there almost 40 years ago, I can hardly believe it. "Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed." As simple as that. It's not such small a step, Neil, you're too modest. Of course I adore the other 11 guys who walked up there (and more generally all those who went into space). But come on, Armstrong was THE one. The first one. Imagine a second what that must be. Well, I stop on Neil. Congrats, and thanks. Just one regret: I wasn't born back in 1969. Be sure I wouldn't have slept much on a mid-summer night of July.


The others were much more difficult to find. For each of them, I could have quoted many who achieved similar accomplishments. But let's stop being too serious about that short list, it's not more honorific than... being cited in my blog, not the biggest Hall of Fame ever. And as you've seen already (you cheaters!), they're all dead.

In the series "First to be", I think I would have appreciated to be Christopher Colombus. After all, there's a strong similarity with man landing on the Moon. And when you think about it, that's funny to realize that Colombus was not that far away from Cape Canaveral when he discovered America! Of course some could think it's pretty controversial to put Columbus as one of the greats, because of what followed his discovery of America. But that's not my point: he traveled, he wanted to discover new territories and, well, I think he managed.

I certainly would have been really, really happy also to be first one to conquer the Everest. I've already told you all the admiration I have for Sir Edmund Hillary and Sherpa Tenzing in that post. Two great men but let me count them as once in that Top 5. Well done guys. Let's continue my shopping list.

Because of my job, I have to choose a scientist. Only problem: which one? Impossible to answer. I hesitated between so many people - can you believe how I take my blog seriously ?! - but that's the game, so let me drop with rather no surprise this name: Albert Einstein. Why him? Oh I don't know. There's not only physics in science, and I was tempted for quite some time to put Charles Darwin. Poor Charles, yet he would have deserved it these days... Even in the small world of physics, I'm probably biased here, I have so many names which come to my mind! What about Isaac Newton, of course, or that young lady in a man's world, the twice Nobel Prize winner Marie Skłodowska Curie? But lets' face it, Einstein is such a symbol! No need to elaborate more on this: Albert, you're in, welcome aboard.

The last one is the probably the least famous of the list: Jesse Owens, the black American sprinter who won four gold medals at the Berlin Olympics in 1936, which triggered the rage of Hitler who furiously left the stadium and refused to shake hands with Owens. I'm fascinated by sports(wo)men, probably because I'm myself not too sporty. And of all the sports, athletics is perhaps the simplest and the most beautiful. I was then left with two men, Jesse Owens and Carl Lewis. I watched the 1984 Olympics in LA (was in the US that summer), I remember Seoul 1988 and his second rank behind Ben Johnson, later disqualified for doping. And Barcelona, Atlanta. He's of course the greatest of all time, but nothing can be compared with Owens' historical race.



That's it Roxane, I've made my choice. Here's my big Five. I'm surprised there are no politics (Martin Luther King, Gandhi,...), nor writers and artists, and I'm disappointed there are no women. But I definitely would have loved to be one of those people.

And way, way above all, Neil Armstrong.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Hoochie Coochie Guy

Went to Chicago last night. One hour away from Geneva. This may recall to some of you one of the very first posts of that blog. A year ago, happy birthday. For some people, a year has passed when they celebrate New Year's Eve. Christmas. The first day of spring. Or whatever. I can tell you a year has passed cause Montreux is back. I mean, the quiet town on the banks of Geneva Lake had not disappeared in the meantime, of course not. What I mean is that the famous Montreux Jazz Festival is back! This year, no Brazilian Night for me (well, I may still change my mind, as it's scheduled next Saturday). Rather, I had the extreme privilege to listen to one of the legends of Chicago Blues, Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome Mr Buddy Guy!!!
I used to listen a lot of blues, say 10-15 years ago (wow, makes me feel old!), slightly less since then. Yesterday not only I was in Chicago but also back to these "Blues years". I felt I was 15. Or 72. God I'd love to be in such a good shape when I'm Buddy's age. No wonder the music was perfect, what I did not expect was such a show!!! He's like a kid, joking and making funny faces, walking through the public, even let a 10 year-old boy strumming his guitar while Buddy was making great riffs with his left hand. As for the music, he gratified us with some great classics such as Muddy Water's Hoochie Coochie Man or a homemade version of Fever. Those artpieces were also balanced by more intimate songs, including a beautiful one to appear in his next CD: I just can't wait!

And guess what? He offered this gift: Wilson Pickett's Mustang Sally! Ride, Buddy, Ride...

Monday, June 23, 2008

Wilson in the midnight

Today's short post should have been written some time ago. I was about to say a few months ago but a quick check at Wikipedia indicates that it should have been done more than 2 years ago, back to January 2006. Jeez, times runs fast.

If you know me (even barely), you must know that I am not, how to say, ultra-athletic. I do my best from time to time but if I'm totally honest, I wouldn't call sport my biggest passion ever (though I like it more than I used to). Anyway, I was actually jogging the other day when I finally found the song. The song. The one which made me forgetting, at least for a tiny bit, that I was sweating and looking like a lobster while looping around the park. This song I had not listened for a long time, though I knew it was among my favorite. It is called In the midnight hour and was sung (and co-written) by Wilson Pickett, one of the best soul singers. Sadly Wilson passed away, hence in 2006. But thanks to both his fantastic song and my iPod I forgot everything, my loops and all that, simply enjoying 2:33 of pure happiness. Lord have mercy.

Enjoy below a live version in Africa in the 70's. Watch carefully at the beginning (23rd sec), even the policeman is completely excited!

Saturday, June 21, 2008

I hate Tuesdays

... at least the coming ones. The next 14 ones, let's be precise. Well, perhaps even the next 16 if I go on vacation around mid-september as I intend to. That is, basically 3 months without performing: this is way too long! Tuesdays without Theater. Tough. I'll have to get used to it, I guess. Since last fall, I've loved meeting friends, every Tuesday night, to work hard together, trying to be as bourish - or as aristocratic - as possible, depending on which character you're supposed to play. To work hard, and to have a lot of fun! Some days I was pretty tired, some others quite excited. But one thing for sure: I always spent fantastic evenings and never 3 hours had gone as fast as during those rehearsals.

The play, i Rusteghi (The Rude Men), was written in 1760 by the famous Italian writer Carlo Goldoni. It is a social satire on the relationships between (rude) men - who wanna marry their kids - and malicious women who'll do their best for arranging a meeting between the fiancés before the wedding. The text is 250 years old but looks surprisingly modern by many aspects. When we decided to go for that play, it wasn't clear at all, let's face it, that we could actually perform it by the end of the year, given our rather limited theatrical experience. Not only we performed it last weekend, but according to the spectators (not all being objective, to be honest, but still) the event proved very successful and entertaining! We all managed to give the best of ourselves, with a lot of enthusiasm. This seemed the least we could do to thank Magali Fouchault, our director, who carried that project very hard, and helped us that much over the past year.

I can hardly tell you the feeling of being backstage, say half an hour before starting, when the murmur of the "crowd" starts to spread (well, that wasn't Avignon festival nor the NYC Lincoln Center, but impressive enough for us). A mixed feeling of fear ("what am I supposed to say in Scenery V of the first Act?") and genuine excitement. I guess that's what we call a positive pressure. And once on stage, well, it's even better! There are so many contradictory little things which you take into account: you must know your text, of course, live your character, react on how the other actors behave. And feel the public. As a physicist, I would call it fantastically and highly unstable, unsteady happening. I find it heady, thrilling. And above all, what is really impressive is that on the following day everything starts again from scratch, the pressure, the excitement and all that. This is actually the only regret I have: we performed only twice! All that work for only two performances. I hope we could still do it a few more times, perhaps next fall who knows. Coz' theater is really addictive. I'm gonna miss it this summer. And during all those Tuesday nights to come.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Objective Bikini

Believe it or not, that's what I read every morning. Objective Bikini. Usually soon after waking up. It must be in the kitchen. Now I got it: this sentence, which could illustrate the last 007 movie, is actually printed on my box of cereals. Kellog's Special K (with red fruits). I used to like them, pretty tasty. But I'm no longer sure to keep eating them in the future, as obviously this product is not for me. Only destined to women, and whose main worry is of course to be as slim as possible for the coming summer. Or to men wearing bikinis and sharing the same concern, which is not my case either. Even those guys seem not allowed: on the back it is written Come on girls, let's start. I am really suprised that Kellog's deliberately deny itself of half its potential customers. What's wrong with you guys?! It must be some marketing strategy which goes well beyond my understanding. As we usually say in particle physics, parity is violated (future post!). And as long as parity between men and women is violated even on a cereal box, I don't really see how it could be applied to any other field.

Anyway I'll keep eating the Special K. And I'll let you know if some day I try to fit in a bikini. Who knows, with such cereals!

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Philosoccer

I've just discovered this truly funny video by the Monty Pyhon's: Greece vs. Germany philosophical soccer. Enjoy!



What would be players of the Germany-USA physoccer, then? Let me think... Let's try that:

Germany
1- Planck 2- Fahrenheit 3- Gauss 4- Hertz 5- Geiger 6- Debye 7- Schrödinger 8- Pauli 9- Heisenberg 10- Bethe 11- Einstein
USA
1- Franklin 2- Compton 3- Bardeen 4- Dyson 5- Bjorken 6- Witten 7- Schwinger 8- Weinberg 9- Wilson 10- Feynman 11- Gell-Mann

Any bet?

Notes:
1. Pauli being Austrian has been excluded by the UK referees, P. Dirac, J. Maxwell, and I. Newton, during the game. This event led to the so-called Pauli exclusion principle which is now applied in the PHYFA physoccer World Cup.
2. Einstein decided to play for the German team, even though he expressed his desire to change team after the half-time.

Monday, May 5, 2008

Light American

I don't give a big importance to my nationality. Nationalities actually, being french by my Mum and US American by my Dad. What really matters is the culture(s) in which you were raised, and in that sense I really feel french by some aspects (and by some others not at all!) and, perhaps to a lesser extent coz I never lived there and english is not my native language, I do feel american as well. And I'm very happy with this mixture. But once more having this or that passport makes me pretty indifferent. It's not a achievement or anything, just a fact of life. I don't feel more french, say, because I have a french passport, I know I'm french. Full point. And I am certainly not proud of it (nor ashamed). I don't understand patriotism.

The law is something which has nothing to do with culture, history, feelings, and all that. And in this context, the law states that if you're the owner of a passport of a given country, then you deserve the same treatment of all the people sharing with you that very passport. For good or bad. And no matter what.

Now I'm coming to the anecdote which happened to me the other day, as I was trying to enter the Brookhaven National Lab, on Long Island in New York state. I was pretty tired after spending a fantastic day in New York City (should blog on that by the way) and still pretty jet lagged after my trip the day before from Geneva. It was late and all I wanted was to get the key of my apartment, probably eat a burger and have a long night sleep (well, it's probably better not to go to bed right after a burger by the way). I hate bureaucratic stuff and usually I do half of the things I'm supposed to do. But basically I know when I'd better be really serious about it. And I was told that entering a US national lab is something you should take seriously. So for once, I had done everything in due form. I don't wanna bother you with the details, but I had asked weeks before for a visit permit and gave all the relevant details to relevant people. It's just to tell you that I was pretty confident when I got to the entrance gate of Brookhaven Lab last Wednesday 30 April at 7.04pm. I explained to the couple of policemen standing there the reason of my visit, gave them my visit permit and my US passport. That guy started to turn the pages of the passport, and started pouting.

The policeman - I'm sorry Sir, your passport is not valid.
Me (amused) - What do you mean, it's not valid??
The policeman - No, it's not. You should have the I94 on it. I'm sorry.
Me (incredulous)- I don't understand. I entered the US yesterday and was properly checked at the airport. So how come it's not valid?
The policewoman - Could you please step out of the vehicle, Sir?
Me - Right, right.
The Taxi driver (to the policemen) - Listen, if you make him wait, then I'll have to charge him for this...

The situation went on a little bit like this. I was then told to go back to the "vehicle" waiting for them to contact their superiors. After ten minutes - and therefore 5 more bucks to the taxi driver - the guy came back saying he could not join them because it was too late. I then tried quietly (remember he's a policeman and I really had to enter the lab as it was the purpose of my trip!) to ask him once more why he thinks my passport is not valid. I had really no clue and could not believe that surreal story which had already gone too long. Since I has seen at the airport that my passport had been stamped in the very same way as my US compatriots, I told him I doubted that every AMERICAN needed that I94. He flatly responded: "Yes Sir, I am used to see the passports here" (which I believe). Trying to understand the issue, I told him about my double citizenship. From now on he said that it could be the reason but basically had not clue about it.

Me - I have a second nationality, indeed.
The policeman (looking at my US passport) - But do you have the US nationality?
Me - ... of course I do, this is my passport.
The policeman - Hmm I don't know. (growing away)
The taxi driver - You have a US passport, what's his point?!

After another 10 minutes, he let me in. But with that "Well-I'm-not-really-supposed-to" kind of tone in his voice which really pissed me off! Anyway. Discussing yesterday with my french friend Dev who lives in NYC, he confirmed to me that the I94 that this policeman was desperately looking for in my US passport is actually for... foreigners!

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Lecture for Grandma #2: Quantum Mechanics

Go! Here we are. Now I am bit embarassed. The other day I was pretty excited with the idea to tell you something about quantum mechanics (QM). Now I realize that it ain't gonna be easy. At all. What the hell, let's try...

I guess it could help if I start with some funny anecdotes. Do you know Richard Feynman? He's a great hero of theoretical physics. He made wonderful achievements in physics, and got a Nobel Prize for it (in 1965 with Schwinger and Tomonaga, for the discovery of the quantum theory of electromagnetism). He was also extremely charismatic, and that's not a surprise if he's been one of the most popular physicists ever. A very eclectic guy, actually. One of his famous pictures shows him playing bongo, some said he was a genius (say, he was gifted) at beating rythms. He's also famous for a great series of textbooks on physics, pretty intuitive and yet not that easy to read, written as he was lecturing in the 60s-70s in Caltech, California. He starts his lecture on QM with the result of an experiment performed by Thomas Young in the XIX century. Actually he starts the discussion with a Gedanken experiment. This is a famous word among physicists, that we could translate as a "mind experiment" (Gedanken meaning thinking in german, well, I... think). It is a "theoretical experiment" in which you imagine a setup which aims at exploring the consequences of a given theory. Einstein used to love them, but probably the most famous one is "The Schrödinger's cat" named after Erwin Schrödinger, one of the fathers of quantum physics. So let's start with the Young Gedanken experiment.

Suppose you shoot bullets (that's Feynman's example) - or whatever - through a wall with TWO slits, say A and B, which can be either opened or closed, independently. There's another wall behind the first one (thank God!), so go ahead, start shooting randomly, this is totally harmless (on top of being a Gedanken experiment). You repeat it quite a large number of times, coz it's fun and statistics never harms. For the time being, only one slit is open (say, A) and the other (B, you still follow?) is closed. At the end of the day, there will be many impacts distributed along the second wall, most of these being right behind slit A, of course. Then you do the contrary, let A closed and B open, and shoot again. The second wall has now many impacts, especially behind slit A and behind slit B, and probably a bit less in between (in particular if both slits are well separated). Of course, you know for sure that, instead of having first opened A only and then B only, you could have equally started shooting twice more with both slits A and B opened at the same time, you would have gotten the same final result. In other words, since each bullet goes either though slit A or through slit B, the probability to have an impact somewhere on the wall (call that point x) is precisely the probability that this damn bullet has gone there through A plus the probability that it's been through B. To be cool, let me write this mathematically:

P(x) = P(x|A) + P(x|B), (equation #1)

where P(x) is the probability that the bullet reached the point x and |A or |B meaning "through slit A" and "through slit B". At this point, you should start getting bored. Perhaps coz your favourite blogger confuses you with those bullets, slits, probability etc. and you have no idea where he wanna go with that Gedanthing, or simply because it's so obvious after all, no need to write a long post about it. Except that it's not boring at all. The above guess is plain wrong, and this is precisely what makes you (and me) so different from the fathers of quantum mechanics! No offense.

Quantum mechanics does not work this way. How does it work then? Well, when you have 2 (or many in general) possibilities for "something-to-happen" (in this context the bullet gets to point x) AND if you don't know which possibility actually occurred (e.g. bullet through A or B), what you have to do is to take the square root of the probabilities of each possibility, √P(x|A) and √P(x|B), add or subtract them, and then square your result to get the probability P(x). We can write this:

P(x) = [√P(x|A) +/- √P(x|B) ]^2 (equation #2)

This is almost like before, but not quite. What is written just above is P(x) = P(x|A) + P(x|B), like our naive guess at the beginning, PLUS or MINUS another thing (2*√P(x|A)*√P(x|B) for the experts). It is that little something which you add or subtract which makes us different from Nobel prize winners (apologies if you're being one, in which case I would feel very much honoured and intimidated, yet it's pretty unlikely. Again, no offense to my non-Nobel fellow readers). Like Feynman used to say throughout his lectures, don't ask why Nature behaves this way! Doing physics is rather to know how Nature works the way it does. Coming back to our experiment after this philosophical digression, the bullets will not be distributed in the same way whether we first opened the two slits one after another or both at the same time. That's life. This is what the Young experiment showed explicitely, except that light was sent instead of bullets. As expected, Young observed a shiny spot behind the opened slit when the other one was closed. What happens when both slits are opened, then? Two bright spots, one behind each slot? Surprisingly no, rather a funny alternation of bright and dark spots appeared all along the second wall when both slits were open at the same time. This alternation comes from the PLUS or MINUS something that we saw before. Suppose that for some location x on the wall the equation #2 should be written with a "plus" sign, the probability for having a "light-bullet" (also known as the photon) at this very point is high, in which case a bright spot is observed (the larger the number of light-bullets at a given place, the brighter the spot). However, if we move a little bit away from that point, the formula #2 should now be written with a "minus" sign (trust me): the probability P becomes very small, even null if √P(x|A)=√P(x|B). Only a very small number of light-bullets has reached that point, and therefore the spot is pretty dark. And if we move even a little further, we get again a "plus" sign and a bright spot. And so on and so forth. Easy, isn't it? For those of you (are there still someone here? Léo?! Grandma??) who worry and feel uncomfortable about the fact that light is something really different than a bullet, let me tell you that the Young experiment has been done much later with electrons shot one after another (and an electron is almost the same as a bullet), and the result is identical. To make an analogy, suppose you throw two stones in a pond. Wavelets will spread and even meet, if the stones did not fall too much apart. When the two waves cross (we say interfere), the crest of a wave can meet a crest of the other wave: this is a constructive interference and this will produce a higher crest. In the analogy, √P(x|A) and √P(x|B) add together, resulting in a brighter spot. On the contrary, the crest of one wave could equally meet the trough of the other wave, the resulting height of the crest being decreased. In that case, we call this a destructive interference, and this would correspond to a darker spot in the Young experiment. Remember this is only an analogy: the bullets are particles! But simply, the "square root" of the probabilities for a particle to go from one place to another within various paths interfere constructively or destructively, in a very same way as waves in a pond.

One more strange thing and then I let you go. You remember I said that we should add/subtract the square roots and so on only if we don't know which path was taken by the bullet. Now suppose we open both slits and look carefully at a given slit whether each bullet has gone through it. From now on, we know the path taken by the bullet, and we should NOT add/subtract the square roots, simply add P(x|A)+P(x|B) as we first suspected in the equation #1! Physically, we'll have then the same result whether each slit is opened one after another (for which we should always add the probability) or whether both slits are open altogether under the condition that we spy the path chosen by the bullet. Isn't that ackward? It means that, in quantum mechanics, the observer modifies somehow the result of the experiment. If you look at a flower, you will throw light at it, and doing so you modify a little bit what you're supposed to observe. Of course, the hope is that looking at a flower will almost not change anything to it, and in practice this is almost always the case. As long as we deal with BIG objects. So our very first guess - which we call Classical Mechanics - is a very very good approximation to (quantum) reality. It is because we live in such a macroscopic world (as compared to some microscopic scale) that classical mechanics appears so "obvious and logical" - hence our first naive guess - and quantum physics that mysterious and counterintuitive - hence why Planck, Schrödinger, Pauli, Heisenberg and others were such geniuses.

Grandma, I admit this post was probably much more difficult to follow than the previous lecture on quark-gluon plasma. Sorry for this. Next time I promise to talk about something easier. Anyway, if something remains obscure, don't hesitate to give me a call!

Nota bene: I oversimplified a little bit when I said PLUS or MINUS, it is slightly more complex than that, if I may say, but basically the idea is this one.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Something about Science

I like writing my blog. It's been roughly six months that I started it, and I must say I still have a lot of fun writing a post from time to time. Sometimes I have less time to write, sometimes on the contrary I have more things to say, but so far so good: I'm not bored so I'll keep on posting stuff a little more.

I got some positive feedback about my post entitled: "Grandma, the quark-gluon plasma, and all that" in which I try to explain simply what my research subject is all about. Thanks! It really made me happy. So I decided that I could post from time to time something about physics, something interesting I'd like to explain/divulgate in a few lines, and not necessarily known beyond the pretty limited circle of (particle) physicists. It should not become the main subject of this blog: there are plenty of (good) physics blogs, and I don't want to restrict myself to this topic, after all I'm also writing to get some distraction!

There's something really fancy in physis, which I believe most of you (here I mean my fellows non-physicist-readers) have heard about at least once. Quantum Mechanics. The name is really sexy, I admit, but the theory behind it does not lack appeal either. I suggest this could be the subject of my next post. It's a complicated field, even for physicists, and I don't wanna be too technical. So I'll try to explain only a very few things, just to make you realize the beauty behind it. On your marks, get set,...

Friday, January 25, 2008

Mount Hillary

I was lucky enough to grow up a few miles away from the (Atlantic) Ocean. As a consequence, I love sea landscapes, walking along the shore, sailing on a boat, watching waves in a storm. Living in Geneva, I do miss all that of course, although I never lose an opportunity to enjoy the Ocean whenever I go back to my hometown. On the contrary, I've never been familiar with mountains: I was 10 when I saw them for the first time, and I had to wait 15 more years to get another chance! To exagerate a bit, the mountains were to me as boring as the sea is exciting: cold and immobile rocks. Huge indeed, but outside of time, forever boring.

Therefore it's not filled with excitement that I discovered my new region. But, as time goes by, I started to become acquainted with such funny neighbours. Of course, skiing almost every single weekend of these last winters certainly helped me to change my mind. Then, I discovered the beauty of these white and wild landscapes and soon realized that, rather than opposing vainly sea and moutains, I should see them as two heads of the same coin. And naturally, my attraction towards sailors turned into a fascination towards moutaineers. From amazing circumnavigations to exciting climbings of Himalayan peaks. Himalaya. I love this word. And what it means.

My interest in mountains has not only been triggered by skiing but also by various discussions with friends. I recall in particular one with David (remember it?), in a Tibetan restaurant (what else?!) in Seattle, a few years back from now. June 2003 to be precise. A week (and 50 years) before, a couple of guys, a sherpa and a kiwi, had just conquered Mount Everest. Precisely this kind of performances which make me dream. This is why I'm writing this post, just to tell you how sad I felt the other day when I heard on the radio that one of the two actors, Sir (thank you ma'am Liz) Edmund Hillary, 88, passed away. He finally joined Tenzing Norgay, his mate and friend on the roof of the World, on 29 May 1953. If you want to know more about that expedition, I can only recommend his book High Adventure (here on Amazon). The litterary style is not the best ever - after all Hillary is famous for his heroic mountaineering performance, not for his writing skills - but I find that book really thrilling, despite the fact I knew the happy end.

One last thing: Sir George Everest was a British surveyor and geographer, responsible for cartographying a sector of Northern India. His successor, Andrew Waugh, surveyed the highest mountain in the World and decided to name it after his predecessor. Of course, this name will never change and that's probably best like this. But these days, the only name which comes in my mind is Mount Hillary. Anyway, thank you so much Ed for this fantastic and pointless adventure. And thanks for this beautiful and surreal picture of Sherpa Tenzing.