.. and while I am on the subject of thermodynamics..
Once upon a time there was a very clever caveman named Ogg. Ogg made the remarkable discovery that hot plus cold equals warm. Although this knowledge has been passed from generation to generation, somehow, the memo did not reach British plumbers.
Of all the complaints Americans have about the UK, one of the most cliché, and yet most valid, is the complete stupidity of the plumbing. The Brits absolutely insist on having two taps for water: one that delivers hot water and one that delivers cold – and never the twain shall meet. So when you wash your hands, you have the choice of water that is scalding, or water that is freezing. Americans inevitably turn them both on then rapidly pass their hands under each one in quick succession to create the illusion of warm water while trying not to burn themselves. (Kirill Shtengel likes to joke that the British shower has a hot shower head and a cold shower head and you are supposed to jump back and forth between the two).
I mean, how hard is it really to plumb the two taps together so you can make warm water from hot and cold?
Yes, I understand the intention is that you are supposed to fill a basin with the combination of the two, and then you are supposed to wash your hands in the basin. But, for example, in a public restroom, you usually don’t have a plug for the basin, and even if you did, you wouldn’t want to actually touch water that had touched the basin anyway.
In my house, there are three sets of faucets. The kitchen sink, the bathroom sink, and the tub. Of the three, the only one which is 20th century in its plumbing is the tub – which conveniently is the only one of the three where it really doesn’t matter.
The weather is turning chilly here in Oxford. Like clockwork, the heat and hot water failed in my apartment last week. I became painfully aware of an important principle of thermodynamics: When it is cold out, if you don’t have heat, you get pretty cold too.
Anyway, after a few days of poking at the boiler, I narrowed the problem down to a problem with the pilot light. I tried relighting it, but even after a dozen attempts or so (and a few more cold nights), still no luck.
My last resort before calling a professional was to consult the oracle of google. Typing in “flamingo 40 boiler pilot light problem” came up with a number of discussions of exactly this issue. It turns out there is some “Overheat Themostat Reset Button” hidden in the device. If it gets tripped you have to reset it before the pilot will light again.
As a physicist I've always been a big fan of thermodynamics. Reading about thermo makes me generally happy. But I think watching the heat come back on after multiple cold nights made me even happier than reading Enrico Fermi's great lectures on thermo.
Anyway, after a few days of poking at the boiler, I narrowed the problem down to a problem with the pilot light. I tried relighting it, but even after a dozen attempts or so (and a few more cold nights), still no luck.
My last resort before calling a professional was to consult the oracle of google. Typing in “flamingo 40 boiler pilot light problem” came up with a number of discussions of exactly this issue. It turns out there is some “Overheat Themostat Reset Button” hidden in the device. If it gets tripped you have to reset it before the pilot will light again.
As a physicist I've always been a big fan of thermodynamics. Reading about thermo makes me generally happy. But I think watching the heat come back on after multiple cold nights made me even happier than reading Enrico Fermi's great lectures on thermo.
Many rock bands go on tour and give the same show night after night. Typically they sell t-shirts listing all of the locations and dates where they performed. This is what I feel like with the colloquium talk I’ve been giving this year. I constructed the talk for KITP Santa Barbara last spring (See here. On the web here) and it went over so well that I decided to do a few repeats. Soon, word got around that it is a pretty fun talk and all of a sudden, I’m doing repeat performances all over.
Here is the list just for October and November:
Friday October 2nd NUIM Maynooth Ireland
Thursday October 8th Univeristy of Warwick, UK
Friday October 23rd, University of Exeter, UK
Friday October 30th, University of Saint Andrews, Scotland
Friday November 6th, University of Leiden, Netherlands
Wednesday November 18th, Royal Holloway University, London ,UK
Wednesday November 25th,University of Utrecht, Netherlands
By the end of the term, I suspect I will be rather sick of this talk. Maybe I’ll sell t-shirts* (or veggie burritos).
*Credit: the idea of making a concert t-shirt is from Susanne Viefers.
Here is the list just for October and November:
Friday October 2nd NUIM Maynooth Ireland
Thursday October 8th Univeristy of Warwick, UK
Friday October 23rd, University of Exeter, UK
Friday October 30th, University of Saint Andrews, Scotland
Friday November 6th, University of Leiden, Netherlands
Wednesday November 18th, Royal Holloway University, London ,UK
Wednesday November 25th,University of Utrecht, Netherlands
By the end of the term, I suspect I will be rather sick of this talk. Maybe I’ll sell t-shirts* (or veggie burritos).
*Credit: the idea of making a concert t-shirt is from Susanne Viefers.
My two friends Andy McKenzie and Andrew Green used to be the only two people I knew in the Physics department at the University of Saint Andrews. I postulated that your name had to be Andrew to work there. This postulate was eventually disproven when they hired Chris Hooley.
This week I visited Saint Andrews for only a day, and had a terrific time while there. (Sadly, Chris, who is endlessly entertaining (See here), was not around during my visit).
When I arrived in Saint Andrews, I met up with Andrew Green for a pint of Deuchers (which is a very fine Scottish beer) and a sushi dinner. Then we went to a bar where there was a jazz jam session. Andrew is a very accomplished jazz trombonist, and over the years (I hesitate to say how many years we have been friends now) we have frequently talked about our common interest in jazz. I haven’t played in a quite a few years; and I believe somewhere along the line Andrew also fell out of practice for a bit, but unlike me, he did manage to start up again (with some effort) and now plays quite well. I was really looking forward to hearing him play for the first time. He even suggested I bring my horn, but I couldn’t bear to play in public without at least a few months of woodshedding to get the chops back in order … maybe this will be a project for the future. Anyway, the Saint Andrews jam session seemed like a very nice group of musicians. People subbed in and out very generously, and nicely accepted players of all levels. Many of the players were pretty good, and some were extremely good. One or two were less than good (to put it generously), but no one seemed to mind much. Rather than making me cringe, it made me feel that I should have jumped in and played --- chops or no. The bar was crowded and most people were only half listening anyway, so the occasional painful moments passed without notice.
Andrew did a super “Stolen Moments” (To quote him, “That tune works really well on trombone”). His playing was extremely clean (Even some very good trombonists fall short on this score), and his improvisation on this tune was very smooth. I was suitably impressed. The rhythm section was led by an ancient, and rather portly, pianist who was great. The drums and bass were also quite good. The guitarist -- a retired GP who looked like he was about to keel over at any moment -- also managed to hold his own. Andrew opted out of most of the tunes of the evening to give others a chance to play.
I’m sure the jam session would have gone late into the evening, but for the fact that by decree of the neighbors music must stop in that bar at 11:30. Perhaps this was just as well, as I had had a long day already – having been awake way too early to give all my tutorials in the morning at Oxford before heading to Heathrow.
**
The next morning, after my colloquium (which went very well), I chatted physics with three very interesting sets of people for the rest of the day:
First, Andrew Green – I took the opportunity to tell him all about this topic which I am pretty excited about these days. He gave last week’s condensed matter theory forum talk at Oxford (which was excellent), so I had already heard recently about his work.
Second, Ulf Leonhardt: I had never met him before, but he seems to be doing some really interesting stuff. Among other things, he was one of the guys who developed the recently publicized idea of the invisibility cloak (yes,that is for real).
Third, Andy McKenzie and his research group. Andy is a terrific experimentalist who studies many interesting exotic materials systems – including Sr2RuO4 which is one of the materials that “topological” people like me are most interested in these days.
I wish I had had more time to chat with everyone – but soon enough it was time to rush back to the airport. Maybe I’ll go back up there for another visit soon.
PS: This is my 100th blog posting!
This week I visited Saint Andrews for only a day, and had a terrific time while there. (Sadly, Chris, who is endlessly entertaining (See here), was not around during my visit).
When I arrived in Saint Andrews, I met up with Andrew Green for a pint of Deuchers (which is a very fine Scottish beer) and a sushi dinner. Then we went to a bar where there was a jazz jam session. Andrew is a very accomplished jazz trombonist, and over the years (I hesitate to say how many years we have been friends now) we have frequently talked about our common interest in jazz. I haven’t played in a quite a few years; and I believe somewhere along the line Andrew also fell out of practice for a bit, but unlike me, he did manage to start up again (with some effort) and now plays quite well. I was really looking forward to hearing him play for the first time. He even suggested I bring my horn, but I couldn’t bear to play in public without at least a few months of woodshedding to get the chops back in order … maybe this will be a project for the future. Anyway, the Saint Andrews jam session seemed like a very nice group of musicians. People subbed in and out very generously, and nicely accepted players of all levels. Many of the players were pretty good, and some were extremely good. One or two were less than good (to put it generously), but no one seemed to mind much. Rather than making me cringe, it made me feel that I should have jumped in and played --- chops or no. The bar was crowded and most people were only half listening anyway, so the occasional painful moments passed without notice.
Andrew did a super “Stolen Moments” (To quote him, “That tune works really well on trombone”). His playing was extremely clean (Even some very good trombonists fall short on this score), and his improvisation on this tune was very smooth. I was suitably impressed. The rhythm section was led by an ancient, and rather portly, pianist who was great. The drums and bass were also quite good. The guitarist -- a retired GP who looked like he was about to keel over at any moment -- also managed to hold his own. Andrew opted out of most of the tunes of the evening to give others a chance to play.
I’m sure the jam session would have gone late into the evening, but for the fact that by decree of the neighbors music must stop in that bar at 11:30. Perhaps this was just as well, as I had had a long day already – having been awake way too early to give all my tutorials in the morning at Oxford before heading to Heathrow.
**
The next morning, after my colloquium (which went very well), I chatted physics with three very interesting sets of people for the rest of the day:
First, Andrew Green – I took the opportunity to tell him all about this topic which I am pretty excited about these days. He gave last week’s condensed matter theory forum talk at Oxford (which was excellent), so I had already heard recently about his work.
Second, Ulf Leonhardt: I had never met him before, but he seems to be doing some really interesting stuff. Among other things, he was one of the guys who developed the recently publicized idea of the invisibility cloak (yes,that is for real).
Third, Andy McKenzie and his research group. Andy is a terrific experimentalist who studies many interesting exotic materials systems – including Sr2RuO4 which is one of the materials that “topological” people like me are most interested in these days.
I wish I had had more time to chat with everyone – but soon enough it was time to rush back to the airport. Maybe I’ll go back up there for another visit soon.
PS: This is my 100th blog posting!
A few night’s back, high-table dinner was a terrific leg of lamb. Fist course was a shrimp salad, and dessert was a chocolate and beet root cake (sounds strange but it was actually wonderful). As if that was not enough to keep me fed, the cake was served with clotted cream – which, when combined with the cake, is delicious! Once I turn that corner and start eating clotted cream… it is only a matter of time.
This posting is not about the status of my flat (no comment as to whether that would be an appropriate title).
“Squalid State” is the derogatory term used to refer to the field of “Solid State” physics by other physicists, and sometimes with good reason. The field is full of people studying what appears to be the boring minutia of particular physical materials: why this impurity increases specific heat and that impurity reduces it – and so forth. This entire field of study looked so horrid to me when I was an undergrad that I absolutely refused to even consider taking a solid state physics course.
It is rather ironic then that I became a solid state physicist – or, more properly, a “condensed matter” physicist who spends a lot of time thinking about solid state. So why am I now excited about the field whereas once-upon-a-time I thought the whole endeavor was dismal? Well, I now realize that some of the most exciting physics out there is in condensed matter systems, that the diversity of condensed matter is unrivaled in any other field, that many of the deepest ideas can be tested and explored best in condensed matter systems, not to mention the importance of potential applications in this field. Unfortunately, these exciting features are extremely well hidden in introductory solid state physics courses --- almost as if by design.
This year the physics department at Oxford has decided to revamp its third year syllabus. Everyone agreed that the previous third year undergrad program was not working and that we would all benefit from trying something new. I volunteered to develop the solid state physics course for a maiden voyage in 2010-2011, when I will teach this to 180 student, more or less. I view myself as the ideal person to teach this precisely because I thought it was so boring. My job will be to make it non-awful, to somehow bring out the exciting part of the field rather than the dismal part.
However, to some extent I am trying to do this with one hand tied behind my back. The IOP (british Institute of Physics) mandates that certain topics MUST be taught in an undergraduate syllabus. Further, my colleagues will not stand for me eliminating certain other topics. Finally, the total number of lectures cannot exceed 22. Despite these rather serious boundary conditions, I still think that I can put together a very nice course – and this is what I’ve been working on for the past few weeks, and will continue to work on for the next year.
So, to all the physicists reading this: Did anyone have a good solid state physics course? If so, why did you like it, who taught it, what was covered, what book did you use?
“Squalid State” is the derogatory term used to refer to the field of “Solid State” physics by other physicists, and sometimes with good reason. The field is full of people studying what appears to be the boring minutia of particular physical materials: why this impurity increases specific heat and that impurity reduces it – and so forth. This entire field of study looked so horrid to me when I was an undergrad that I absolutely refused to even consider taking a solid state physics course.
It is rather ironic then that I became a solid state physicist – or, more properly, a “condensed matter” physicist who spends a lot of time thinking about solid state. So why am I now excited about the field whereas once-upon-a-time I thought the whole endeavor was dismal? Well, I now realize that some of the most exciting physics out there is in condensed matter systems, that the diversity of condensed matter is unrivaled in any other field, that many of the deepest ideas can be tested and explored best in condensed matter systems, not to mention the importance of potential applications in this field. Unfortunately, these exciting features are extremely well hidden in introductory solid state physics courses --- almost as if by design.
This year the physics department at Oxford has decided to revamp its third year syllabus. Everyone agreed that the previous third year undergrad program was not working and that we would all benefit from trying something new. I volunteered to develop the solid state physics course for a maiden voyage in 2010-2011, when I will teach this to 180 student, more or less. I view myself as the ideal person to teach this precisely because I thought it was so boring. My job will be to make it non-awful, to somehow bring out the exciting part of the field rather than the dismal part.
However, to some extent I am trying to do this with one hand tied behind my back. The IOP (british Institute of Physics) mandates that certain topics MUST be taught in an undergraduate syllabus. Further, my colleagues will not stand for me eliminating certain other topics. Finally, the total number of lectures cannot exceed 22. Despite these rather serious boundary conditions, I still think that I can put together a very nice course – and this is what I’ve been working on for the past few weeks, and will continue to work on for the next year.
So, to all the physicists reading this: Did anyone have a good solid state physics course? If so, why did you like it, who taught it, what was covered, what book did you use?
Last week ended my summer of constant travel and I returned to Oxford for “noughth week”. To understand this nomenclature one needs two pieces of information:
First, the weeks of the term are numbered 1-8 (Yes, the terms are only 8 weeks long, making them officially insanely short). No one at Oxford ever uses real calendar dates – instead they will just say “our next meeting is Monday of 5th week” or something of that sort. If you make the mistake of asking “what are you doing on November 3rd?” a person will likely ask “which week is that?” This system does actually make some sense because you can have meetings that occur perpetually on, say, Friday of 1st week (as the Physics Theory Sub-Department meeting does) independent of the term or the year, which is then somehow immune from the fickle fluctuations of the Gregorian calendar.
The second piece of crucial information is that “noughth” means “zeroth” (as in “all for nought”).
With those key facts it should be clear that “noughth week” is the week before classes actually start at Oxford. During this week in Michaelmas term (fall term) the new first year undergraduate students (“Freshers” over here rather than “Freshmen” or “Frosh”) arrive, and the 2nd-4th year students return, hopefully more rested than I am, from their summer breaks.
Over the course of noughth week, things accelerate extremely quickly. Since the terms are so insanely short, once you are in-term, everything is a sprint. The students move in by about Wednesday of noughth week, and by Friday all organizational meetings are done so that by Monday of 1st week, the term is going full speed.
Perhaps the most important event of the week is meeting the new Freshers, which mostly happens at an event known as Fresher’s Dinner. This is a formal dinner in the Great Hall where, very unusually, the Faculty sits at the tables with the students (usually the faculty sits at High Table). As one of my colleagues warned me “Depending your students, this dinner can either be really fun and interesting, or a socially difficult Marathon of trying to think up small talk”. Fortunately, my incoming students this year were a lot of fun to chat with.
Oh, and the Somerville chef decided to serve Kangaroo meat (there was also a vegetarian option). And of course there is a lot of wine at dinner. The drinking age is 18 in this country – so this is to be expected for a formal dinner.
This year’s crop of new Physics students at Somerville consists of four boys and two girls, plus one Physics-Philosophy hybrid, also a girl, making the gender mix pretty close to 50/50. While there are a few girls in the upper classes, it still is a bit unusual to have such a high fraction of girls in the Physics group. (My second year students, for example, are six boys and no girls). Perhaps this is just gender balance finally coming to physics, or perhaps it is an anomaly (or more likely a bit of both).
At any rate, now that the term is starting, my life is about to become completely insane for the next eight weeks. Forgive me if I am a bit sparse on the blog postings.
Oh, and with history repeating itself, at the beginning of noughth week, I had the flu.
First, the weeks of the term are numbered 1-8 (Yes, the terms are only 8 weeks long, making them officially insanely short). No one at Oxford ever uses real calendar dates – instead they will just say “our next meeting is Monday of 5th week” or something of that sort. If you make the mistake of asking “what are you doing on November 3rd?” a person will likely ask “which week is that?” This system does actually make some sense because you can have meetings that occur perpetually on, say, Friday of 1st week (as the Physics Theory Sub-Department meeting does) independent of the term or the year, which is then somehow immune from the fickle fluctuations of the Gregorian calendar.
The second piece of crucial information is that “noughth” means “zeroth” (as in “all for nought”).
With those key facts it should be clear that “noughth week” is the week before classes actually start at Oxford. During this week in Michaelmas term (fall term) the new first year undergraduate students (“Freshers” over here rather than “Freshmen” or “Frosh”) arrive, and the 2nd-4th year students return, hopefully more rested than I am, from their summer breaks.
Over the course of noughth week, things accelerate extremely quickly. Since the terms are so insanely short, once you are in-term, everything is a sprint. The students move in by about Wednesday of noughth week, and by Friday all organizational meetings are done so that by Monday of 1st week, the term is going full speed.
Perhaps the most important event of the week is meeting the new Freshers, which mostly happens at an event known as Fresher’s Dinner. This is a formal dinner in the Great Hall where, very unusually, the Faculty sits at the tables with the students (usually the faculty sits at High Table). As one of my colleagues warned me “Depending your students, this dinner can either be really fun and interesting, or a socially difficult Marathon of trying to think up small talk”. Fortunately, my incoming students this year were a lot of fun to chat with.
Oh, and the Somerville chef decided to serve Kangaroo meat (there was also a vegetarian option). And of course there is a lot of wine at dinner. The drinking age is 18 in this country – so this is to be expected for a formal dinner.
This year’s crop of new Physics students at Somerville consists of four boys and two girls, plus one Physics-Philosophy hybrid, also a girl, making the gender mix pretty close to 50/50. While there are a few girls in the upper classes, it still is a bit unusual to have such a high fraction of girls in the Physics group. (My second year students, for example, are six boys and no girls). Perhaps this is just gender balance finally coming to physics, or perhaps it is an anomaly (or more likely a bit of both).
At any rate, now that the term is starting, my life is about to become completely insane for the next eight weeks. Forgive me if I am a bit sparse on the blog postings.
Oh, and with history repeating itself, at the beginning of noughth week, I had the flu.
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