Hadron Collisions, the end is nigh?

As the subtitle would suggest occasionally math is important, nay, interesting.  As such I’ll briefly delve into a fevered rant about Hadron particles.  Hadron particles are made of quarks.  Yes, quarks.  Furthermore they are “any strongly interacting composite subatomic particle”, according to Wikipedia.

Now that we’ve established we know very little about particle physics outside of blurbs on Wikipedia, a slew of BBC articles and a certain FPS of some renown, let’s take a look at the European Organization for Nuclear Research (CERN).  Yes, the acronym doesn’t make sense, but trust me, these guys say they are quite smart.  Ok, well the acronym stems from the original name in French so it work, but man does it look broken now.

CERN is accredited for many great scientific discoveries such as the first creation of antihydrogen atoms and the discovery of B and W bosons, the latter won them a Nobel Prize in physics in 1984.

The other thing which has put them in the news as of late is their creation of the LHC, the Large Hadron Collider.  What is a large hadron collider you ask?  Well it’s basically the world’s largest particle accelerator, capable of firing 2 proton beams around its circumference at near the speed of light.

The scientists at CERN are hoping to use the LHC to view the Higgs Boson, which could fill in the missing links in the Standard Model of physics.

I’ve read through a number of articles.  Certainly atleast 5, which makes me a top authority on all things concerning the events transpiring and as such I’m going to be frank.  We’re all liable to die tomorrow.

Yes, I’m a fan of melodrama.  It’s really not as bad as everyone is thinking.  We set of a nuclear bomb not sure if it would ignite the atmosphere.  Well we still have atmosphere so that was very much a win on our part.

While the LHC is not thought to possible blow the world up directly it does have the potential to make one of two potentially catestrophic entities.  The first is black holes.  Yes, we’ve created a machine that could create a singularity of time and space.  That would be rather unpleasant.  The second possibility is that the machine could create what is known as a strangelet.  A strangelet is a partical composed of strange quarks.  As it build size it becomes a quark star, which is hypothesized to convert all matter that it touches into “strange matter” which then converts everything it touches to strange matter, so on and so forth for an ultimate doomsday scenario.

I am nothing if not motivated by science, and I’m all for CERN firing off these tests.  Someone has to.  I want to live forever and fly through space and science is pretty much my only chance with that as my first 14 years of D&D have proved that regardless of what level wizard I am I don’t actually have magic.  *shakes fist at the heavens*

Concerned citizens have begun calling, writing, and even threatening the scientists at CERN for fear of one of the more grim outcomes but at this point the talking is moot as CERN is booting up the machine as I write this.  Tomorrow, September 10th, 2008 is “Big Bang Day” at CERN and they will begin full use of the machine prior to closing it down for winter.

They will be televising and web-broadcasting throughout their opening event tomorrow, so if you’re at all interested in the world tomorrow would be a good day to watch our possible end, as if things go awry you will know why and get to see it as opposed to simply ceasing to exist while sitting on the toilet.

For full information on Big Bang Day head over to CERN’s official page.  From there you can also be directed to one of their many attempts at assuring us that everything will be fine and they aren’t about to kill us all.

A Modern Renaissance Man

I like to consider myself a worldly gentlemen.  Classically sheik, drawing my wardrobe from the 20s.  A fool can look like an Oxford sophisticate wearing a vest, slacks and a fedora on those extra special occassions.  I am a glutton for knowledge and make no distinction as to what is “bad” knowledge and what isn’t as in my eyes everything I see, hear, taste, touch and smell will make me a better and more well rounded person.

This outlook on the world as a whole came up over the weekend when I was visiting my old D&D group and one of them who I haven’t seen in a good long while said that he had a show for us all to see.  The dubious and frighteningly descriptive title of “Church of Fudge” should have been the first warning sign to myself and the assorted basement dwelling D&D players from my past.

Before I delve any further into that section of the story let’s first look at the definition of a renaissance man.

Renaissance man –noun

1. A cultured man of the Renaissance who was knowledgeable, educated, or proficient in a wide range of fields.

2. A present-day man who has acquired profound knowledge or proficiency in more than one field.

This definition from Dictionary.com goes a bit of the way in describing what this term should be defined as.  Looking further into the possible meanings brings us to the American Heritage definition:

n. A man who has broad intellectual interests and is accomplished in areas of both the arts and the sciences.

This fits more in line with my views as it can be summed up by the word “worldly”.  A renaissance man is someone who at his/her core attempts to be “in the know” about as many topics as possible.  When I’m at a social event I pride myself on being able to speak about any topic to a level of reasonable competence.  It’s a skill that sadly few people display nowadays with interest in politics falling to the wayside when compared to the new Lil Wayne album and when the topic of modern authors arrises people stare blankly for a moment and then once again begin prattling on about last night’s episode of The Office.

Now let’s hook back to the matter at hand, my accursed friend Jay.  The group, knowing Jay to be a shady character, inquire about the video he’s eagerly buffering on some less-than-comely website.  He said it involved “cosplay”, everyone’s on board, including his wife.  Then he said it contains “scat” and half the people leave the room.

Now before I continue I want to say that this is not my cup of tea.  At all.  But again, I’m a modern renaissance man, and refuse to not view something based on my personal distaste for it.

Now I watched the video for about the first 5 minutes, according to Jay it continued for another 25 and shutter to think why.  After disabling the filth playing on the television (yes the 52 inch television was acting as the computer monitor) the rest of the group returned and questioned how I could watch it.

My answer was very simple.  I believe that, barring topics which bring about legality issues, all information should be experienced.  Someone could have told me events of the video and I would have “understood”, but without watching it I would not have fully comprehended the gravity of it.

I’ll use the analogy I used that night as some pathetic defense to their accusations of high perversion.  If someone explains to you what the grand canyon is you understand that it’s a large hole in ground in the mid west.  If you are shown an image of it you begin to grasp the sheer magnitude of the place, the majesty seen therein.  Now a picture is only second best of course, because you never truly have full knowledge of something until you experience it for yourself.

That being said please visit the grand canyon it will make you a better person, and only watch Church of Fudge.

\\drew

We Gathered

We gathered under the sputtering neon lights, under the tattered striped awnings. We gathered outside the boutique stores, outside the plate glass windows protecting electronics, records, and porn. We gathered huddled under our sport coats, trenches, and hoodies – huddled together in a homogeneous mass of New Yorkers. The evening sun was blotted out; night had come early today. And when the sun would return, days later, its rays would not be cast upon the same city.

Realization came slowly, with the first signs an abnormal rush of cars from the parkways of Long Island: backups and accidents on the Triborough and Throgs Neck bridges – then an even more disturbing absence of cars. When a city’s lifeblood is traffic and you a commuter, the red Civics, yellow taxis, and black Mercedes are your compatriots, your comrades in this capitalistic current. Their absence is not silence, no. Their presence becomes your silence, your white noise backdrop. Their absence rings louder than the klaxons that should’ve been alerting us.

As usual, the news channels were the last to know. By noon all work had been abandoned. The island, were it on a fulcrum, would’ve tipped over into the East River. The FDR was packed with businessmen, students, and grandmothers, the Williamsburg a pedestrian walkway. Every vantage point was taken: fire escapes, rooftops, streets that opened onto the river: Grand, East Houston, 23^rd. We didn’t see the police. I assume, now, they had been called onto LI. That’s the direction all the helicopters were going: the news reporters, the troop carriers, the rescue choppers, and the occasional light Bell.

And when the fires started, far off on the horizon, the smoke rose into clouds that must’ve been pulled out over Nantucket by the Gulf Stream. It was deceptive, then, that by the time we could see the fire on Long Beach and Garden City, it was coming too fast for us to escape. Most stood shocked and curious. We were New Yorkers, after all. We had survived 9/11. A fire couldn’t drive us out of our homes that easily. Why had there been such a furor leaving the island? Why were we greeted by coagulated mobs still traveling west? Why did their rambling mayhem claim such ridiculous things?

By three o’clock the sky was black. The sulfurous toxins were beginning to make our heads spin. If you ignored the looting, it was eerie how calm we were. I will eschew the usual metaphor. If you’ve been in a situation where panic drives the brain into calm nirvana, then you already understand. So the first yells we attributed to tiredness, hallucination – and then the pointing, the questions, the guesses. The shifting darkness out over Long Island that seemed to be getting larger: what was it? Its black was blotting out the smoke like the negative of an angelic white, an ink stain on a ruined painting in a smoker’s study.

If the lack of vehicular traffic out of the island disturbed us (and it did), then when the refugees stopped coming we knew it was time for us to leave. We were too late, by then, but who would’ve not tried? We hadn’t made it halfway across Manhattan before the first buildings started toppling. No runner could’ve made it fast enough. What marathon could prepare you to flee the gaping maw of hell? The army must’ve failed – or given up. We were lost, a sacrificial warning for the rest of America. And as Washington Square Park filled up with debris, concrete shrapnel, and corpses, it was as though our darkest nightmares had escaped the bounds of sanity and leapt onto the torn pages of reality.

Above the Legal Limit to Dri… Vote

As a United States Citizen we are granted a series of rights and civil liberties based on the morals of our founding fathers. Right to bear arms, right to assembly, etc… etc…

I question whether this is actually something that we should all innately be given simply because we were fortunate enough to be born here (or spent long hours in line to immigrate while studying esoteric facts about the country that it’s own citizens don’t know).

My wife and I had a discussion the other night about this after watching a show interviewing people on the street and much to my surprise she posed the idea that all citizens interested in voting would need to take an aptitude test. This was partly due no doubt to the fact that so few people seem to know the name of our Vice President, the 3 branches of government, or where we currently have troops stationed for war.

The answer the person gave to the latter was France. Yes, we are at war with France. Damn those French always causing a ruckus, we’ve moved in to hold the country forcibly with our armed forces…

So I’m now intrigued with the idea of a standard aptitude test for all United States citizens.  A test which is voluntary and only needed if the individual decides they would like a say in our political system.

The test would cover numerous topics though revolve primarily around US history and current events.  Personally I don’t want someone voting for my president when they still believe that the confederacy has a chance to win or that Barack Obama is related to Saddam Hussein.  I can answer the questions posed to these Americans of varying ages and ethnicities after drinking half a handle of Jack Daniels bringing my consciousness to nothing beyond a steady stream of whirling colors and distorted sounds.

When I posed the option for debate at work I received mixed reviews.  There are of course obvious problems with the system with the biggest being who writes the test.  The fact that a group needs to be created and put into a position of power somewhat breaks the idea.  When a single group of individuals is formed to make the test they effectively choose who will be able to vote as they would have the power to gear questions towards specific members of society, making the test “easier” to those who share the same views as them.

My take on this is that while sure, the possibility exists, the possibility exists for our president to take us on an unjust war through the middle ea…. oh wait.

Theoretically the idea is sound as the test will be composed of facts, but everything at some point is twisted.

I fear that this will come off as elitist, but I’m far from it.  I don’t care who votes as long as they have a certain level of competency.  We used to assume that our schools would have our nation’s children educated to a solid level by voting age but that time has come and gone.  Quality education is a thing of the past and our youth can’t find the time to care about the events that transpire outside their small sheltered lives.

For those that want to remain in their bubble by all means continue to do so, but likewise don’t expect to have a say in the larger world around us.

\\drew

When life isn’t worth living

I consider myself a preeminent pessimist. If it is possible to be professionally pessimistic I would have coined the term and added it to my business cards years ago.  They would read something like this:

Drew
Professional Pessimist and all around Curmudgeon
Designer
Vicarious Visions
“It’s not a beautiful day outside, it’s sunny.”
“Get off my lawn you pesky kids!”

With that said I read this little piece of priceless insanity over at Overheard in New York.  Here’s the quip from a local Starbucks.

[Skinny girl takes box of equal out of her pocket and puts half the packages in her coffee.]
Friend: What are you doing? You’re going to get cancer!
Equal girl: Yeah, but I won’t get fat.

Yes, that’s right, dying horribly from a debilitating disease is much more suitable than living a life with a few extra pounds.

For as jaded as I feel I am I still derive some sick sadistic pleasure from existing.  My mindless day to day tasks hold some merriment.  I have a wife that I love, a supportive family and a group of friends that (heaven help them) enjoy my company enough to still invite me around despite my rather bleak outlook on the world.

But this girl at Starbucks, so consumed in something of apparent importance has valued physical appearance over her very existence.  Last time I checked there are many overweight women and I’m willing to wager most of them still live successful and enjoyable lives despite their bits of extra them.

Are we really that base of a people that being physically attractive is more important than health?  I’m at a stage in my life where children are on the horizon.  Am I concerned with if they’re going to be hot or not?  No, I am hoping they will come out safe and healthy as that is better than a lot of parents get.

So shame on you nameless girl from a NYC Starbucks for having your priorities muddled.  Well, in my mind at least.  Perhaps I have it wrong and my values skew in the wrong direction.  Maybe my lack luster attempts to look presentable are actually detracting from my life and those around me.  It’s a thought I haven’t given much consideration to, but I suppose it’s possible.

But then again anything is possible.  Like, we may all die tomorrow from an unseen meteor careening to earth through the intergalactic highway, or the nearby center for infectious disease may release its contagions much in the style of the Umbrella Corp and we’ll need to deal with a zombie apocalypse.

Are those things likely?  No.  Does it mean I should have a shotgun in the trunk of my car to defend myself and my loved ones from vapid trendy women who need a sandwich? *cough* I mean… zombies.  Sorry, those buttons on the keyboard are like right next to each other.

\\drew

A verbose, nauseating, and too common occurrence.

Office based conversations are a strange thing. Very few people go to work and consider themselves among friends yet most people find a common link between each other that brings them together to discuss any number of awesome inane topics over the proverbial water cooler.

Having worked in many fields in my relatively short existence I’ve heard all sorts of banter, ranging from problems at home and work to perceived “clever” banter to attempt an office romance.

What I would like to address here however is the change in dialog based on where you are. It is an odd thing to see conversations shift so drastically from workplace to workplace.

For a time I was working as a staff writer for one of the largest higher education teacher’s unions in the US and some of the things that were brought up boggled my mind (and baffled my sense of work ethic at the length of the aforementioned chats).

I sat next to a particularly attractive soccer mom who was the “Bell of the Ball” with all the men swooning over her footsteps. Through my stay there I learned, unwillingly, all about her life as she had near constant conversations with half the office on a daily basis. She was in a loveless marriage, her children were spoiled, she wasn’t raising in the ranks quick enough, she couldn’t seem to make her and her husband’s 6 figure incomes make ends meet, etc…

Different men would approach her desk at the same times every day, I could have set my watch to it assuming that I felt the need to track the ebb of time pass as her conversations were precious minutes of my life that I would never get back.

Day in and day out I overheard the drivel spewing from her mouth that was eagerly absorbed by the voracious ears of her gentlemen callers.

This level of casual work conversation in this setting prompted me to leave for bigger and brighter pastures. But I myself am no saint, which is where the dichotomy of my rant begins.

I now work for a major video game publisher and we have a fairly laid back work environment, no dress code, flex hours, did I mention we make video games?

I’ve found myself in my time here engaged in all sorts of heated debates of all natures. I never would have thought that in a professional environment (which we attempt to maintain despite the casual nature of what we do) I would be having a full fledged argument with my peers over who would win in a baby eating contest, Superman or Wolverine. This topic stands out particularly in my mind as it involves mythical characters, unspeakable atrocities, and harks to my early days as a comic aficionado (see: fanboy).

I sided with Wolverine having a distaste for all things Superman under the umbrella that Superman, while he could physically eat more babies and at a faster rate, would be less likely to eat babies than Wolverine who would effectively do anything if it were for the better good.

Without digressing further into the troubling jaunt that spawned from that conversation I’ll simply say that it went on for a good hour or so and involved double digits worth of employees as they passed by, heard, and then joined in with their two cents.

So here I am, in all of my hypocrite glory. But is it hypocrisy if I take the environment into consideration? I would have never discussed eating children at any prior place of work. That kind of conversation should be reserved to gaming companies and early 1700s Irish meal plans.

So then is office chatter a positive? Is it a negative? I dislike the fact that I have fallen into the icy grip of mindless colloquy but perhaps there is a place for it in the workplace assuming the correct topics are discussed given those around you. It does serve to raise general moral, especially when working a long series of 12 hour days, and as studies have shown we as Americans spend more waking hours with people at work than we do with our families which in turn makes our human interactions at work that much more important.

\\drew