College...an extension of mollycoddled high schoolers?

I was not aware of the extension of the realm of Harry Potter...an academic Hogwarts? What are the universities trying to accomplish? Frankly, this is absurd.

"Taking the Magic Out of College"

by

Lauren Edelson

December 5th, 2009

The New York Times

I DRINK in the tour guide’s every word as he shows my group around Middlebury College’s campus. He tells us about the school’s new science building and gives us the scoop on nearby ski mountains. Dreamily, I imagine my future self: a year older, strolling to class past this very same scene. I’m about to ask about science research opportunities when he points to a nearby field and mentions the sport students play there: a flightless version of J. K. Rowling’s Quidditch game — broomsticks and all.

Back when I was a junior, before I’d printed off an application or visited a campus, I had high expectations for the college application process. I’d soak up detailed descriptions of academic opportunity and campus life — and by the end of it, I’d know which college was right for me. Back then, I knew only of these institutions and their intimidating reputations, not what set each one apart from the rest. And I couldn’t wait to find out.

So I was surprised when many top colleges delivered the same pitch. It turns out, they’re all a little bit like Hogwarts — the school for witches and wizards in the “Harry Potter” books and movies. Or at least, that’s what the tour guides kept telling me.

During a Harvard information session, the admissions officer compared the intramural sports competitions there to the Hogwarts House Cup. The tour guide told me that I wouldn’t be able to see the university’s huge freshman dining hall as it was closed for the day, but to just imagine Hogwarts’s Great Hall in its place.

At Dartmouth, a tour guide ushered my group past a large, wood-paneled room filled with comfortable chairs and mentioned the Hogwarts feel it was known for. At another liberal arts college, I heard that students had voted to name four buildings on campus after the four houses in Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Several colleges let it be known that Emma Watson, the actress who plays Hermione Granger in the movies, had looked into them. I read, in Cornell’s fall 2009 quarterly magazine, that a college admissions counseling Web site had counted Cornell among the five American colleges that have the most in common with Hogwarts. Both institutions, you see, are conveniently located outside cities. The article ended: “Bring your wand and broomstick, just in case.”

I’m not the only one who has noticed this phenomenon. One friend told me about Boston College’s Hogwartsesque library, another of Colby’s “Harry Potter”-themed dinner party. And like me, my friends have no problem with college students across the country running around with broomsticks between their legs, trying to seize tennis balls stuffed into socks (each one dubbed a snitch) that dangle off the backs of track athletes dressed in yellow. Hey, college is all about experimentation, isn’t it?

In fact, most of us have grown up adoring Harry Potter and, through J. K. Rowling’s books, we’ve escaped many times into the world she created. But what I enjoy in fiction I don’t necessarily want to find in college. And, despite any wishes to the contrary, the real-life skills I hope to gain from college do not include magic.

What really matters to me as I prepare to make my decision? Well, I loved hearing about Williams College’s two-student classes called tutorials, and how Swarthmore lets students weigh in on almost every big decision made by its administration. I was really impressed by Middlebury’s student-driven campaign to save energy on campus. (For the sake of full disclosure, I just might be applying to some of these schools.) I care about diversity and need-blind financial aid — and, of course, the social life. But I don’t care about what percentage of the student body runs around on broomsticks.

Leaving home and beginning life in a new place is a nerve-racking experience, and nothing seems more reassuring than imagining that college will be the realization of a fantasy world I’ve been imagining since childhood. Obviously colleges have picked up on this. But they’re trying too hard. They’re selling the wrong thing. And my friends and I won’t be fooled. After all, Harry Potter is frozen in high school, and we’re growing up.

Lauren Edelson is a senior at the Catlin Gabel School.

Lawyers and robots

Just wait until the robots develop artificial intelligence and become sentient. The lawyers will go berserk. New law firms will sprout up--Attorneys Dewey, Cheatum, and Howe will add Borg.

"Scientists, lawyers mull effects of home robots"

by

Brooke Donald

December 5th, 2009

Associated Press

"I remembered thinking, 'Whoa, this is scary,' as it whirled around, almost knocking me down," the Microsoft researcher recalled. "Then, I thought, 'What if I were a patient?' There could be big issues here."

We're still far from the sci-fi dream of having robots whirring about and catering to our every need. But little by little, we'll be sharing more of our space with robots in the next decade, as prices drop and new technology creates specialized machines that clean up spilled milk or even provide comfort for an elderly parent.

Now scientists and legal scholars are exploring the likely effects. What happens if a robot crushes your foot, chases your cat off a ledge or smacks your baby? While experts don't expect a band of Terminators to attack or a "2001: A Space Odyssey" computer that takes control, even simpler, benign robots will have legal, social and ethical consequences.

"As we rely more and more on automated systems, we have to think of the implications. It is part of being a responsible scientist," Horvitz said.

Horvitz assembled a team of scientists this year when he was president of the Association for the Advancement of Artificial Intelligence and asked them to explore the future of human-robot interactions. A report on their discussions is due next year.

For years, robots have been used outside the home. They detect bombs on the battleground, build cars in factories and deliver supplies and visit patients in hospitals.

But the past few years have seen the rise of home robots. Mainly they are used for tasks like vacuuming (think Roomba). There are also robotic lawn mowers, duct cleaners, surveillance systems and alarm clocks. There are robotic toys for entertainment, such as Furby. Robotic companions, like Paro the harbor seal, comfort the elderly. By 2015, personal robot sales in the U.S. will exceed $5 billion, more than quadrupling what they are now, according to ABI Research, which analyzes technology trends.

"You won't see Rosie from `The Jetsons,' but you're going to see more and more robots that help maintain your home. They'll pick up stuff off the floor, stock your fridge, carry stuff from the car," said Colin Angle, CEO of iRobot Corp., which makes the Roomba.

As such 'bots become more sophisticated, they could complicate questions about product liability. Ryan Calo, a fellow with Stanford's Center for Internet and Society, pointed out in a recent panel discussion at Stanford Law School that the original manufacturer might not always be liable if a robot went haywire.

"Robots are not just things the manufacturer builds and you go out and use them in a specific way. Robots can often be instructed, they can be programmed, you can have software that is built upon by others," he said.

There are no laws in the U.S. specifically governing robots, and discussion of them usually leads to science fiction writer Isaac Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics, which debuted in his 1942 short story "Runaround."

The first of Asimov's laws is that robots should do no harm. It's also one of the biggest considerations when manufacturing the next generation of personal robots.

"If a robot becomes increasingly autonomous and can make its own decisions, what happens if the robot does not carry out the exact wishes of the person?" said George Bekey, a robotics researcher and professor emeritus at University of Southern California.

As robots interact more closely with people, the bonds some people form with the machines - even ones that do not look like humans - might need to be considered.

Shoppers personalize their Roombas, naming and decorating them, for example. Angle recalled an incident when a soldier plucked a banged-up military robot nicknamed Scooby from an Iraqi battlefield and carried it to a depot to be fixed.

"It's doing you a service, you're going to get attached to it," Angle said.

Ronald Arkin teaches a course on robots and society at Georgia Tech and directs the school's Mobile Robot Laboratory. His most recent book is titled "Governing Lethal Behavior in Autonomous Robots."

"There needs to be ethics embedded in the systems," he said. "It's not just making a system that assists someone. It's making a system that interacts with someone in a way that respects their dignity."

Horvitz said his panel will recommend more research into the psychological reactions humans have to robotic systems. The group, he said, also suggests machines be designed with the ability to explain their reasoning to humans.

While ethicists, lawyers and roboticists ponder how to best integrate humans and autonomous machines, there is some evidence that a balance is already beginning to be struck.

After returning to the Stanford hospital on another occasion, Horvitz noticed a sign hanging above the spot where he had his harrowing experience. It read: "Please Do Not Board The Elevator With The Robot."


Asimov's "Three Laws" revamped?

And from the very popular radio program X Minus One...

"How To"

When ISS is completed...then what?

A waste of money.

"After space station is built, what will ISS crew do up there?"

For years to come, the International Space Station will be the site for experiments benefiting earth research and extended space flight.

by

Peter N. Spotts

November 29th, 2009

The Christian Science Monitor

The US shuttle Atlantis undocked from the International Space Station Wednesday, beginning the homeward stretch of an 11-day mission that delivered spare parts to the orbiting outpost.

Now that NASA has begun putting the finishing touches to the International Space Station, it and partner agencies have been posting the equivalent of slick travel brochures complete with a photo montage of astronauts serving as lab technicians or wired up as test subjects.

It's one part of preparations for expanding the use of a space station that could remain on orbit through 2020 or even 2028.

NASA is doing studies to see if the certified lifetime of the station's structural pieces can safely be extended. Con­gress last year asked the agency to find ways to keep the station operating past 2015.

"We're doing a 30-year look at all the components," says space-station program manager Michael Sufferedini. "Assuming we get them all certified, we'll actually have a vehicle certified through about 2028."

Much of the research NASA and other space agencies are interested in involves long-term human space exploration beyond low-Earth orbit.

Scientists already are working on two key problems: the potential radiation hazard astronauts would face once they leave the protection of Earth's magnetic field, and the physiological changes astronauts face as they spend months in weightlessness.

Cosmic rays are not rays per se, but a constant stream of high-energy particles, largely protons. They arrive from deep space, and they pack enough punch to trigger a cascade of other particles when they strike the atmosphere – or a spacecraft. They're energetic enough to damage DNA, a long molecule that contains the biochemical blueprint for an organism's form and function.

One of the major physiological effects scientists are trying to counter is a loss of bone and muscle mass astronauts experience after long periods of weightlessness. Resistance exercises during orbit help. But to get a better handle on the issue, scientists are using rodents to study the genetics behind astronauts' bone loss, as well as to get a better handle on bone-related diseases.

Many experiments are expected to continue to focus on biomedical questions, as well as materials science experiments.

Weightlessness offers some unique advantages over ground-based experiments. Grow cells in a petri dish, for instance, and gravity flattens them into essentially two-dimensional organisms. Grown in space, they become tiny spheres, making it easier to track the mechanisms behind their development.

Some amazing and beautiful scenes of terrestrial Earth

Earth: Amazing sights

Roy Gallant...science writer

An anonymous reader of POSP replied to another post and mentioned Roy Gallant. I am not that familiar with him but I think he deserves mention as a prolific [nearly 100 books] writer of science...one of those individuals that attempts to bridge the gap between science and the populace.

"Writer Roy Gallant Has Spent a Lifetime Exploring and Explaining the Mysteries of Science"

by

Mathew Honan

October 19th, 2009

Wired

Roy Gallant has taken millions of readers to the outer limits of our unmapped edges, from the farthest reaches of space, where gamma rays send interstellar signals back to planet Earth, to the remote ocean bottom, where mysterious creatures slither along lightless landscapes. He has spent decades tackling topics that even adults have trouble getting their head around — quarks, black holes, quantum mechanics — and written about them in an engaging and enlightening prose that has drawn readers of all ages into the mysteries of science.

Like many other men of his era, Gallant began his career as a warrior, serving in World War II and the Korean conflict, first as an Army Air Force navigator and then as a psychological warfare officer in Tokyo. When he returned to civilian life, he embarked on a publishing career in New York, working as a staff writer for Boys’ Life magazine. “That was a real, large-format magazine,” insists Gallant, his 85-year-old voice inflected with a Maine accent. “It wasn’t this little Mickey Mouse Reader’s Digest type thing.”

And although the shooting was over, the United States was in the thick of the Cold War. “The Russians had launched Sputnik, and the United States government panicked and started pouring money into libraries to buy science books,” Gallant explains. “The first article on astronomy I wrote was for Boys’ Life. I wrote an article about the origin of the moon. [Boys' Life] received hundreds of letters of interests. That started me seriously thinking about science writing as a career.”

That career would span 50 years and 96 titles, introducing three generations of young readers to the curious world of science. His first book, Exploring the Moon, was published by Doubleday in 1955 and introduced the baby boom generation to the then-distant, unknowable orb. It sold 100,000 copies and led to an entire series of Exploring titles, covering planets, weather, chemistry, and more. For Generation X, raised on moonwalks and Star Wars, Gallant brought the outer reaches of space into focus with Our Universe. Published in 1980, it sold more than 2.5 million copies and is still in print. The book was a staple of the young science geek’s bookshelf and Gallant’s favorite. By the 1990s, while he was running the University of Southern Maine’s Southworth Planetarium, Gallant was captivating Millennials with titles like The Day the Sky Split Apart and Geysers: When Earth Roars. Gallant’s latest book, Meteorite Hunter, was published in 2001, and it chronicles his expeditions across the Russian wildernesses of Siberia by train, horse, and foot as he studied the Tunguska event, an explosion that happened one night in 1908; it was 1,000 times the size of Hiroshima and to this day is not completely understood.

Of course, the problem with spending a lifetime publishing books about science — and astronomy in particular — is that the understanding of the universe is constantly evolving. “It seems that every time I wrote an astronomy book there would be something new to include in it and corrections to be made for earlier books,” he says, chuckling. “There was an article I wrote for Boys’ Life called “40 Billion Suns,” because at that time the population of the galaxy was thought to be 40 billion suns. Today it corresponds to 300 or 400 or 500 billion.”

Gallant isn’t in the publishing business anymore. He’s retired now and says he has no plans for another book — although he is still organizing and documenting his notebooks from his time in Siberia. But over the feature Classic 1950s Science Textbooks Get a 21st-Century Update, we introduce you to some of his work, and where necessary, update it for a more modern take on the curious and often violent outer limits of our knowledge and imagination.

Here is one book...

METEORITE HUNTER: The Search for Siberian Meteorite Craters

by

Roy A. Gallant

ISBN 0-07-137224-5

Geoffrey Notkin wrote:

Veteran Meteorite readers will already be familiar with the work of author, astronomer, and adventurer Roy A. Gallant — often described as “The Indiana Jones of Astronomy.” A frequent contributor since the magazine’s inception, Roy’s account of his journey to Tunguska was the cover story for the very first issue in 1995. With back issues of the magazine now largely out-of-print and sought-after by collectors, Roy’s latest book: Meteorite Hunter: The Search for Siberian Meteorite Craters, is a welcome arrival. Its eight chapters consist, in large part, of expanded versions of Roy’s previously published articles.

A consummate writer/adventurer, Roy ranges across the magnificent expanse of Siberia, examining vast impact craters and forgotten strewn fields, pulling iron meteorites out of freezing mountain streams, and peppering it all with his observations of, and commentary upon, the land, its people, and its history. I was lucky enough to participate in Roy’s 1999 expedition to the Pogigai crater in Siberia (recounted in Chapter 6), and observed his enthusiasm and relentless energy first hand — two traits with which his writing is infused.

The colorful characters who accompany Roy on his missions: Chief of Staff and translator Katya Rossovskaya, and eminent Russian astronomer and meteorite hunter Valentin Tsvetkov, for example, are well described. Along with them, we encounter a cavalcade of wandering geologists, Russian soldiers, hardened farmers and loggers eking out a living on the Tundra, nomadic Tungus who still relate folk tales of the 1908 explosion, a voracious dog named Bill Clinton, and the Mayor of Kulcheck who is astonished by the arrival of an American in “his territory” — the first such visitor in living memory.

Roy works details of rural life into the stories, but also finds time to comment upon Chekhov, Pliny, physicist Ernst Chladni, and where to get the best deal on red caviar. However, it’s in the descriptions of the actual hunt that the book really shines. During arduous forays to Chinge, Sikhote-Alin, Tsarev, and other sites, a combination of good research, luck, and perseverance pays off with some impressive meteorite finds, but harsh weather, wild animals, and rough terrain must be dealt with, as well as other unexpected encounters:

“‘This has to be the end of the world,’ I say to Katya as I climb down onto our damp oasis. ‘I want to see the tiger,’ she says peering through the trees. Moments later we are greeted by a Russian man and woman who are startled to see us. The night before, Alexander told us that a party of seven meteorite ‘pirates’ was at the site [Sikhote-Alin] and had been there for three weeks. The woman cook quickly begins banging on an anvil that resounds through the forest. One by one, the other ‘pirates’ appear and eye us silently and suspiciously. They are dressed mostly in military garb, and each carries a heavy and cumbersome metal detector.”

A discussion of advances in the understanding of strewn fields — through the work of Krinov and Tsvetkov at Sikhote-Alin — will be of interest to the specialist, while an introduction to the main types of meteorites is illuminating for the casual reader. Fellow adventurers, as well as those who prefer the comfort of their homes to the buzz of angry Siberian mosquitoes, will enjoy this fine addition to both the literature of meteorite history, and adventure travel.

This review originally appeared in Meteorite magazine and is © by Pallasite Press.

Shakhashiri and a 40 year chemistry tradition

Ask yourself this: Are the people there for the chemistry of chemistry or just a good show? I suppose it doesn't make any difference. The fact remains that this is a cool tradition...a focused Mr. Wizard.

"40 years later, chemistry show is still a hit"

by

Deborah Ziff

December 4th, 2009

Wisconsin State Journal

It would seem to hold all the appeal of listening to someone read the dictionary aloud.

But hundreds of people will pack into a room on the UW-Madison campus Saturday to attend a presentation on the properties of carbon dioxide, liquid nitrogen and zirconium.

In short, the choice activity in Madison on Saturday is a chemistry lecture.

If it sounds like a snooze, then you don't know Bassam Shakhashiri.

This is the 40th time the UW-Madison professor has held his annual Christmas show extravaganza, otherwise known as "Once upon a Christmas cheery, in the lab of Shakhashiri."

With a flair for showmanship, Shakhashiri is like a magician who wows audiences by using science, rather than sleight of hand or illusions. Beakers erupt with material, solutions turn psychedelic colors, chemicals explode thunderously - all to an audience oohing and ahhing as if they were watching Harry Houdini.

His show has become so popular that tickets run out weeks in advance, hundreds are turned away, and public television stations across the country replay it.

But it started humbly, as a demonstration just for students in his chemistry course.

Shakhashiri held his inaugural Christmas lecture in 1970, his first year as an assistant professor at UW-Madison. He based it on the 19th century Christmas lectures held for children by Michael Faraday, an English physicist and chemist.

Then, it had a working title: the Edgar Allan Poe-inspired, "Once Upon a Midnight Dreary, in the Lab of Shakhashiri." But that just wouldn't do.

"I said, ‘Hey, there's nothing dreary in my lab, it's all cheery,'" Shakhashiri said. "So we changed it right away."

Word got out that it was a must-see event. Students who weren't in his class began showing up, then community members, overflowing the 350 creaky wooden chairs in the chemistry lecture hall.

He began to hold the lecture at night, expanding it to two shows. This weekend, there will be four shows for more than 1,000 people.

Shakhashiri, who wears a trademark "Science is Fun" T-shirt at the demonstrations, has a goal of inserting whimsy into a discipline that can sometimes seem dry.

"It is my attempt to share with the audience the magnificent joy of doing science," he said.

His shows are a far cry from the typical humdrum high school chemistry lab. The demonstrations feature experiments with playful names like genie in a bottle (manganese dioxide into hydrogen peroxide) and elephant toothpaste (soap, manganese dioxide and hydrogen peroxide).

Shakhashiri, born in Lebanon, calls teaching a noble endeavor. He has taught 25,000 students over the years and his introductory chemistry course fills quickly during registration week.

During the mid-1980s, he took a leave from the university to be assistant director for Science and Engineering Education at the National Science Foundation.

Even in Washington D.C., he continued the Christmas lecture, once with Vice President Dan Quayle in the audience.

Through the Christmas lectures, and other science shows throughout the year, he hopes to inspire young minds.

"He stimulates you to be curious," said Rodney Schreiner, a senior scientist at UW-Madison who has participated in all but the first lecture. "And he has a knack for giving you just enough information to spike your curiosity but not enough so you're satisfied, so you have to go out and do a little on your own."

At 70 years old, Shakhashiri said he will continue the Christmas show as long as the university will let him.

In addition to appearances from Bucky Badger (who always wears safety goggles), Santa, and others, the special guest star at this chemistry display is the element zirconium.

It possesses the atomic number 40.

Bassam Z. Shakhashiri

Science is Fun in the Lab of Shakhashiri

Christmas and the X-Files

The X-FILES Christmas Case

"We're too late! It's already been here."

"Mulder, I hope you know what you're doing."

"Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas fir, truncated, mounted, transformed into a shrine; halls decked with boughs of holly; stockings hung by the chimney, with care."

"You really think someone's been here?"

"Someone or some THING."

"Mulder, over here - it's a fruitcake."

"Don't touch it! Those things can be lethal."

"It's O.K. There's a note attached: 'Gonna find out who's naughty and nice.'"

"It's judging them, Scully. It's making a list."

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity who could travel at great speed in a craft powered by antlered servants. Once each year, near the winter solstice, this creature is said to descend from the heavens to reward its followers and punish disbelievers with jagged chunks of anthracite."

"But that's legend, Mulder -- a story told by parents to frighten children. Surely you don't believe it?"

"Something was here tonight, Scully. Check out the bite marks on this gingerbread man. Whatever tore through this plate of cookies was massive -- and in a hurry."

"It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder, this milk glass has been completely drained."

"It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without remorse."

"But why would they leave it milk and cookies?"

"Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can stop its wilding."

"But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The doors and windows were locked. There's no sign of forced entry."

"Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace."

"Wait a minute, Mulder. If you're saying some huge creature landed on the roof and came down this chimney, you're crazy. The flue is barely six inches wide. Nothing could get down there."

"But what if it could alter its shape, move in all directions at once?"

"You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?"

"Exactly. Scully, I've never told anyone this, but when I was a child my home was visited. I saw the creature. It had long white strips of fur surrounding its ruddy, misshapen head. Its bloated torso was red and white. I'll never forget the horror. I turned away, and when I looked back it had somehow taken on the facial features of my father."

"Impossible."

"I know what I saw. And that night it read my mind. It brought me a Mr. Potato Head, Scully. IT KNEW THAT I WANTED A MR. POTATO HEAD!"

"I'm sorry, Mulder, but you're asking me to disregard the laws of physics. You want me to believe in some supernatural being who soars across the skies and brings gifts to good little girls and boys. Listen to what you're saying. Do you understand the repercussions? If this gets out, they'll close the X-files."

"Scully, listen to me: It knows when you're sleeping. It knows when you're awake."

"But we have no proof."

"Last year, on this exact date, SETI radio telescopes detected bogeys in the airspace over twenty-seven states. The White House ordered a Condition Red."

"But that was a meteor shower."

"Officially. Two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian reindeer vanished from the National Zoo, in Washington, D.C. Nobody - not even the zookeeper - was told about it. The government doesn't want people to know about Project Kringle. They fear that if this thing is proved to exist the public will stop spending half its annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy. Retail markets will collapse. Scully, they cannot let the world believe this creature lives. There's too much at stake. They'll do whatever it takes to insure another silent night."

"Mulder, I --"

"Sh-h-h. Do you hear what I hear?"

"On the roof. It sounds like . . . a clatter."

"The truth is up there. Let's see what's the matter."

GOOD HOLIDAY SPIRIT TO ALL--2008