“A pair of otherwise distinguished physicists have suggested that the hypothesized Higgs boson, which physicists hope to produce with the [Large Hadron Collider], might be so abhorrent to nature that its creation would ripple backward through time and stop the collider before it could make one…” (The New York Times)

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In 2008, the Large Hadron Collider short-circuited, infusing the soil under the border area between Switzerland and France with over a ton of helium, and thereby causing the largely cuckoo clock-making communities along the border to inhale toxic doses of the noble gas. Many clock-makers weren’t taken seriously for weeks, as cuckoo clocks are annoying enough, even more so when pitched by a salesman sounding like a “Kraftwerk” record at 78 rpm.

However, we should remember that scientific missteps have been with us since the dawn of time. Whether struggling against nature, God, or in the case of “Oog’s Club,” fierce beasts (in which a saber-toothed tiger ate Oog, his club, and the rest of the symposium attendees during a physics seminar circa 32,000 BC), scientists have persevered heroically in their efforts, through cunning and dedication, in an effort to triumph over the myriad daunting obstacles that come with trying to comprehend the universe while not on drugs. But it’s never been easy.

Einstein’s Box

Albert Einstein once envisioned an interesting theoretical experiment in which a single light particle would be trapped and then released, allowing for the measurement of the relationship between mass and energy. The scientific community waited in nerdy anticipation while Einstein set to work on his box. Convinced he’d broken through, Einstein telegraphed Niels Bohr, “Come to Leiden this instant! I have captured a photon—seen it in all its fleeting glory from Alpha to Omega.”

“I’m right here,” replied Bohr from the adjoining room shaking his head and pouring another rum punch. Bohr trundled over to Einstein’s desk where he found his fellow physicist eating a slice of four-cheese pizza.

“God dammit, Al! That was the last piece.”

“Did you see the photon?”

“No.”

“It must have hopped out of the box and onto the pizza.”

“A likely story.”

“Here Niels, you can have the box. Some gorgonzola and maybe a few photons are still left.”

“Keep your stupid box, Al.”

Bohr, as is well documented, abandoned science and returned to his job as a cheese monger in Copenhagen; while Einstein went on to have a distinguished scientific career, despite that hair.

Maxwell’s Demon

A vehement critic of entropy, Scottish physicist James Clerk Maxwell was known to have once knocked on every door in Edinburgh, inquiring of residents if they’d like to have their undergarments organized by magnetic flux density.” So opposed to the Second Law of Thermodynamics was Maxwell, that the eminent if not imminent scientist devised an experiment to prove it could be violated.

The experiment featured two vessels—possibly Einstein boxes—filled with gas. Straddling these boxes, and able to operate a tiny trapdoor between them, was a “demon,” a being that could “follow every molecule in its course.” The demon was expected to watch closely for speeding molecules, and then use the trap door to allow them to move them from one vessel to the next, demonstrating the fallacy of entropy. But the demon quickly tired of the task, uttering the immortal words: “Take this job and shove it, Jimmy.” Maxwell then undertook the job himself until a torn rotator cuff sidelined his work with molecules (it also changed the pitching rotation in the Glasgow Cougar’s bullpen). The demon, meanwhile, took a job haunting stray dachshunds, and so it comes as no surprise to learn that Maxwell would find himself more than once set upon by crazed wiener dogs on his daily constitutionals through the Cowgate. The demon was eventually lured back to work for Dr. Maxwell with the promise of health/dental benefits and the rest, as they say, is theoretical history.

Schrödinger’s Cat

One of the most famous experiments in the realm of quantum theory involves Schrödinger’s cat, “Snuggles.” Schrödinger had a volatile relationship with Snuggles, a rescue tabby from the Vienna Humane Society. Even after the scientist spent all of his grant money on scratching posts, catnip toys and audio-animatronic mice, Snuggles persisted in trying to suffocate his master by burying him in kitty litter. At wit’s end, Schrödinger devised a contraption (another box) in which he installed a Geiger counter that would trigger a hammer and break a vile of cyanide if it detected radiation in the area of the box, thereby rendering the recalcitrant Snuggles lifeless. However, knowing precisely when a radioactive atom is going to decay in a closed system is, according to Schrödinger, like “knowing when Ms. Schrödinger is going to come back from the opium den.” Thus, inside the box nobody would know whether Snuggles were dead or alive, making it, in Schrödinger’s words, “kinda both.”

Unfortunately for Schrödinger, his maid reported to the dean at Princeton that when the scientist put the cat in the box, “it was already so, so definitely dead.” In addition to the university authorities, PETA weighed in, and ultimately Schrödinger plead down to 150 hours of community service at a fire station, though he protested until his death that “if those assholes had known anything about psi functions, they would have written me a ticket and been done with it.”

Dr. Schrödinger gained special recognition, however, for a subsequent experiment known as “Schrödinger’s Wife,” although the accolades came primarily from the Vienna vice squad; the scientific community largely ignored the whole episode.

Everyone in the class defined either “science” or “writing.” We compiled them to define “creativity.”
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Creativity is learning, experimenting, teamwork and interest.

It is putting things together to make the unknown,

a really cool subject because there is no such thing as bad art.

It is the unknown world of living things, expressing yourself,
and emotions, what you are thinking, and taking risks.

Creativity is painting drawing, poetry, learning about
nature, the solar system, body, electricity, water, food and plastic.

It is a project, something you make that can be a masterpiece
to express your feelings. It is a way of describing something.

It is making a word or phrase or something
very beautiful and wonderful. It makes things delightful and majestic.

Creativity is an exciting way to do things
and a fun way to discover new inventions.

It is observing and predicting. It is precise and mysterious.

It has millions of meanings but no right or wrong.

Creativity is using all of your senses,
someone who has a good imagination.

It is something that you learn about when you study the world.

Creativity is when you can do anything without rules.

If the stars are from space and heat is from the sun
then creativity is asking where water comes from.

It is people who study many things and form letters into sentences.

It is something that is mysterious that makes you curious to things like:
how did soil help trees grow, and how did trees create oxygen to help us breathe?

It is someone who studies stuff and who uses lots of time to make just one piece of art.

It is a story. A person who learns about science and about almost everything.

Creativity is a study of how life started. It is sometimes a mystery,
but also sometimes an answer to everything.

I thought I would share a funny story of what recently happened to a colleague of mine. The fellow in question, Professor J. Blucher, was recently trying to schedule a room for his undergraduate class, Mastering Sextants. This year, the class, which usually numbers only a handful of students, had nearly 150 sign up. Initially he surmised that perhaps people were finally taking global warming seriously and had decided to brush up on their nautical skills. However, it was later discovered that, due to certain constraints in the new course offerings software, the class was listed as: MASTERING SEX. So you can understand how some people might have been led astray.

My friend was now tasked with scheduling a room large enough to accommodate all these students – at least for the first class. I was in his office, admiring some pocket gopher bacula, when he made his call. I gathered that he first spoke to a lady named Bethany. All seemed to be going well when suddenly Professor Blucher, who always seems a little lost but has his moments of lucidity, said, “I don’t want eight rooms, I only want one room.” After a bit of silence he then said, “I assure you ma’am, there are. May I please speak with someone else?”

Well, it seems (if I got the story straight) that Bethany was a bit of a history buff. Apparently she had been reading about a particular anti-bellum courthouse nearby and came across a mention of an old French law (from the late 1700’s) stating all government buildings were prohibited from having more than 20 seats in any given room. From this Bethany knew there weren’t any rooms large enough to accommodate a class of 150. So she must have first done some math and later said something like, “There aren’t any rooms with more than 20 seats at this university.”

In any event, Bethany handed Professor Blucher off to – maybe Carl or Tim – I forget. Again, things seemed to be going well, Blucher even got a room, 515 Ferguson Hall, but then I realized I had once taught in that room and that it had at most 30 desks. Professor Blucher mentioned this to Carl (or Tim), was silent for a while, then said, astonished, “But it doesn’t work that way,” then, “Could I please speak with someone else?”

Well, again this is coming after the fact that Carl (or Tim) was a senior supervisor, and as such had access to the room profiles in the computer. So Carl (or Tim) signed Blucher up for the room, then changed the number of seats available in the room profile to 150. Apparently after Professor Blucher said “But it doesn’t work that way,” Carl (or Tim) replied, “I’m a senior supervisor. I know I can add seats to a room. ”

My poor friend, who is rather ill at ease using any communication device, was now visibly wavering like a parched man in desperate need of shade and water. The next person he spoke with was named Joan. Professor Blucher explained the situation: he was in need of a single classroom with enough seats to accommodate 150 students at “one seat per student.” Professor Blucher readied his pencil to receive a room assignment, then said, “Are you sure? How many seats does that room have?” Silence, then said, “Oh dear,” and gave the sigh of a man who has lost all hope.

Joan was going to assign Professor Blucher room 101 in Stephen’s Hall. Apparently, in response to his two questions, she replied that, while she didn’t know anything about the rooms in Stephen’s Hall, the building certainly was big on the outside, so she knew it had rooms large enough to hold 150 people. Insert “Oh dear,” here.

Suddenly Professor Blucher stood up, straight backed, shoulders square. He had a hard look in his eyes- focused on the opposite wall, oblivious to my presence. He said in a loud clear voice, not yelling, but with confidence and authority, “Get me a scientist!” It echoed around his small office. I’m sure Joan was nearly deafened.

The events of the next fifteen or twenty minutes will stay with me for the rest of my life. Luckily Joan was able to find a copy repair man and put him on the phone. Professor Blucher was a man afire, grilling the copy repair man on logic (inductive and deductive), observation, testability, falsifiability, evidence, and the pitfalls of tradition, authority, and guessing. He ran the man through inventive scenarios to test his ability to deal with rational evidence and discard irrational gibberish. Never have I seen a mind so quick and agile, poke and prod, teach and test. Finally, finally when he was content that he was speaking to man who could see the world through the eyes of a scientist, Professor Blucher posed his final question to the copy repair man, “How would you KNOW if a room had enough seats for accommodate 150 students at one seat per student?” The room went silent, I stopped breathing, time stood still. The voice on the other end of the phone sounded tiny to my ears half way across the room, “I would go to the room and count the seats.”

VICTORY!

Professor Blucher slowly lowered himself into his seat, his back still ram-rod straight. Finally he had found someone who was willing and able to use science, actual observations of the universe, to confront “The Problem of the Classroom.”

Ultimately a suitable room was assigned and the class size dropped to only a handful of students by the second week. Now, Professor Blucher has returned to his passive, slightly lost demeanor. Sometimes, when I pass his office or see him in the halls, he is mumbling to himself, running what happened over and over in his mind. What Professor Blucher had learned, but simply could not bring himself to accept, is that for some people there is more than one way of knowing.

(You too can follow the @physicallaws of the universe).
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The physical laws of the universe have just started a twitter account.

Not surprising, but the 1st law of thermodynamics doesn’t think much of unicorns.

The physical laws of the universe are at the mall.

As usual, Archimedes Principle is hogging the bathroom.

Even @rainbows should follow the physical laws of the universe.

The physical laws of the universe have a thing for graphing calculators.

Are you there @God, it’s us the physical laws of the universe.

The physical laws of the universe would just like to say that they are in no way responsible for the new Alvin and the Chipmunks movie.

Even if @god doesn’t want to follow the physical laws of the universe, maybe a get together for drinks is O.K?

The physical laws of the universe do not get the TV show “Lost.”

5 out of 5 dentists prefer the physical laws of the universe to credulous irrational beliefs.

The physical laws of the universe love walks on the beach, puppies, and scented pillows: but most of all, they love entropy.

The physical laws of the universe would just like to apologize for their part in this crazy weather you’re experiencing.

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900088000088008800088800008800000008800000880000000009
900088000088008800088800008800000008800000880000000009
900088000088008800880000008800000008800000888888800009
900088088088008888800000008800000008800000880000000009
900088088088008800880000008800000008800000880000000009
900008800880008800088000008800000008800000880000000009
900008800880008800008800888888000008800000888888880009
900000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000009
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999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
*10^375+1

- – -

I obtain much pleasure from writing.

Also from reading books.

Literature is the greatest art form in the world.

And so I imagine a writer living in a small efficiency apartment in the southern part of the United States.

A third-floor apartment, 33 steps up black cast iron stairs in a back alley.

The apartment has a main bed/living-room and a chair, a small kitchen, a tiny refrigerator, a stove, a small bathroom.

No television, no cell phone, no computer.

But the writer has a typewriter and an old radio setting on a small table with a lamp next to it.

He has a few tattered books, some clothes, an abstract painting on the wall, not much else.

The man has loved literature since he was a small boy.

Escaping into stories and novels and picture books.

But he is also a man of action, not a wimp.

He lifts weights regularly and occasionally gets into brutal fist fights in crappy bars.

The man has been writing ever since the age of 11; and found his “literary voice” at a young age.

Every day the man sits at his typewriter and writes for hours – brilliant short stories and minimal poems come reeling off his typewriter.

There is a primitive beauty to the prose in his stories, a roughness to the visage of his piercing minimal poems, all of it fresh and compelling and packed with genuine emotion, which showcases his unique perspective of the world.
He sends his work out to magazines and journals once a week by regular mail.

And soon he finds that the literary game is NOT RIGGED.

Editors and other writers actually RECOGNIZE and appreciate his literary genius.

They publish his poems and stories in their magazines and quickly he gains the respect and attraction of literary agents and five major NY publishers.

Three small books come out in rapid succession: a novella, a book of short stories, a book of minimal poems. They gain mostly positive reviews in the best periodicals in spite of the revolutionary way the young writer has re-evaluated and almost “attacked” modern literature.

The writer receives large advances and generous royalty checks and moves out of his tiny efficiency apartment.

He gets married and buys a large house and an expensive sports car and continues writing every single day.

And the writer does not become an alcoholic, he does not develop a horrible drug habit, he does not commit suicide.

He only works harder at his writing and fully nurtures his devastating talent.

One summer he decides to buy an old laptop computer equipped with only a primitive word processor and a spell check – no other programs.

He writes a 40,000-word brutalist novel in two months that becomes a true classic of southern gothic literature.

And the writer goes on to become one of the greatest authors America has ever produced and wins numerous major awards and becomes a multi-millionaire.

The End.

On Sunday, August 2nd 2008, in Santa Cruz, California, a firebombing destroyed David Feldheim’s car. The smoke from the fire filled the first floor of his house, so he and his wife, along with their 6-year-old daughter and 7-year-old son, had to drop a ladder from the window of a second floor room to escape. Dr. Feldheim has no criminal record. He isn’t affiliated with organized crime, or even a member of some contentious political organization. Instead, the attack on he and his family was instigated because Dr. Feldheim uses mice in his research on how the brain develops. Animal rights extremists are conducting attacks on scientists across North America and, in the process, slowing down the very work that is needed to advance our understanding of how the human body undergoes disease, and what we can do to cure it.

Animals in Research

Each year in the United States, approximately 20 million laboratory animals are used in biomedical sciences research. They are used to study cancer, neurodegenerative diseases like Alzheimer’s Disease and Parkinson’s Disease, metabolic diseases such as diabetes, and even the common cold. Indeed, animal testing forms the crux of biomedical sciences, and virtually every notable landmark in the field over the last hundred years has been characterized by the use of animals. As Dr. Thomas J. Carew, the President of the Society for Neurosciences, attests, “[responsible] animal research has played a vital role in nearly every major medical advance of the last century, from heart disease to polio, and is essential for future advances as well”. Even when animals are not used to research the pathology of disease itself, they form the crux of the regulatory framework that protects humans from adverse reactions to newly found drugs and treatments. In Canada and the United States, even before reaching clinical trials, treatments must first conclusively demonstrate safety on animals first. In fitting irony, veterinary medicine depends on animal testing, too: not only are many treatments developed for humans now used on animals too, but rabies, feline leukemia, and other vaccines were developed through animal testing.

Critics, such as People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), suggest that there are alternatives to the usage of animals in research. In certain cases, this is true. For example, cell culture has proven useful as an alternative in the production of certain kinds of antibodies and in certain skin treatment tests. But in most developed countries, and certainly in the US and Canada, scientists are already obligated to follow a set of guiding principles for the use of animals in research termed the “three R’s”: reduction, refinement, and replacement. In summary, a scientist is obligated to use non-animal methods over animal methods whenever it is possible to achieve the same scientific aim (replacement), must minimize animal pain, suffering, and/or distress (refinement), and must use the least number of animals possible within an experiment (reduction). Every established university in Canada and the US has an animal care committee that oversees the usage of the three R’s in research, and scientists are strictly reprimanded if they fail to live up to them. So while alternatives to animal research can and must continue to develop, the number of animals still used today emphasizes how important they are to biomedical sciences research. This is emphasized by the awarding of the 2007 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine to the pioneers of gene targeting in mice, which has allowed for the elucidation of the roles of numerous genes in development, physiology, aging, and disease.

Terrorist Attacks on Researchers

The brunt of responsibility for terrorist attacks on biomedical scientists falls on the Animal Liberation Front (ALF), a leaderless resistance that claims itself analogous to the Underground Railroad. In public statements, the group claims responsibility for any direct action to further the cause of animal liberation, where all reasonable precautions are taken to safeguard human and non-human life. Still, there has nevertheless been criticism of ALF activists for either engaging in acts of violence or failing to condemn them. Before the 1990s, the majority of acts committed by ALF activists were termed by the FBI “low-level criminal activity”. In 1977, ALF took two dolphins from the University of Hawaii’s Marine Mammal Laboratory, and released them into the ocean. In 1985, 486 animals were removed from a University of California, Riverside laboratory – causing nearly $700,000 in damage and shutting down eight of the seventeen research projects active at the laboratory. But as author Rachel Monaghan notes, around 1982, there was a shift in the non-violent position of ALF. Death threats, letter bombs, and threats to contaminate food erupted in North America and Europe. In 2001, the director of an animal-testing laboratory, Huntingdon Life Sciences (HLS), was attacked by men wielding pickaxe handles. Two researchers at the University of California, Dr. Dario Ringach and Dr. David Jentsch, have attested to the terrorism: “we have seen our cars and homes firebombed or flooded, and we have received letters packed with poisoned razors and death threats via e-mail and voicemail. [Our] families and neighbors have been terrorized by angry mobs of masked protesters who throw rocks, break windows, and chant that “you should stop or be stopped” and that they “know where you sleep at night.” Some of the attacks have been cataloged as attempted murder. Adding insult to injury, misguided animal-rights militants openly incite others to violence on the Internet, brag about the resulting crimes, and go as far as to call plots for our assassination “morally justifiable.”

Suffice it to say, animal rights groups like PETA who operate legally cannot and must not take responsibility for the kinds of attacks that victimize biomedical scientists. Moreover, each and every member of society has a voice in deciding how far biomedical scientists ought to be able to go when it comes to using animals in research. Two examples have recently surfaced where this is especially apparent. First, the field of biomedical sciences is dawning on a new age of technological capability, which begs the question: in what respects should scientists be allowed to introduce human genes or materials into animals? Britain’s Academy of Medical Sciences launched a study on November 3rd, 2009, with the goal of establishing guidelines for scientists around the world on how far society is prepared to see them go in mixing human materials with animals to discover how to combat disease. Second, the use of nonhuman primates in research possesses a unique set of ethical issues because of their cognitive and emotional capabilities. Accordingly, nonhuman primates represent fewer than 1% of all animals used in research, and are in general used only for studies which necessitate their presence, such as in studies on the elaboration of complex brain functions.

Protecting our Scientists

The violent and non-violent acts of ALF and similar direct action animal liberation groups are an affront to the rights of scientists in North America, Europe, and around the world. More needs to be done to protect the well-being and safety of individuals who contribute to biomedical sciences research. The passage of the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act in 2006 in the US, which set out to “”provide the Department of Justice the necessary authority to apprehend, prosecute, and convict individuals committing animal enterprise terror”, is a step in the right direction. Similar acts need to be passed in every developed country that conducts biomedical sciences research. But the attacks against researchers points toward a broader trend towards a public discourse on animal testing that is fraught with ambiguity, bias, and downright misperception of science. PETA aims misinformation about animal testing towards children and college students, and the entertainment industry produces movies characterizing scientists as amoral and unconcerned with the welfare of animals. To underscore this point, the Pew Research Center recently published a survey demonstrating that only 52% of the American public views animal research favorably.

Ultimately, scientists themselves must brave the storm of extremists and reach out to the public to explain their work, why it’s important, and how they are sticking to the strictest possible ethical guidelines. Too often, the general public is under the impression that scientists can do whatever they want with however many animals they want as long as they term it ‘research’, but this simply is not true. The current guidelines are born out of the recognition that animals do undergo discomfort, pain, and death, in biomedical sciences research, and that society does have a desire to find suitable treatments for diseases that cannot be found without the use of animal testing. Multiple levels of scrutiny, including grant reviews, university committee approvals, provincial and federal regulator inspections, and accreditation by independent organizations, go into deciding whether or not animal research ought to be conducted. But even if an individual is not directly or indirectly engaged in biomedical science research, the stake he or she has in finding cures for diseases remains the same. Do you want scientists to find cures or better treatment plans for diseases? The time to speak up is now.