How Many Farts Does It Take To Make A Tornado?

Apparently, not many. That is, if you do it at just the right time and place.

This week, Edward Norton Lorenz died:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2008/04/18/db1801.xml

Why is this notable? Because Dr. Lorenz is an early researcher in Chaos Theory who came up with a mathematical principle called the Butterfly Effect.

What is The Butterfly Effect? No, I'm not talking about that singularly horrible B sci-fi movie made a few years ago, or its even worse sequel. I'm talking about the mathematical theory that very small changes early on in a system, such as "the flap of a butterfly's wings in Brazil" could lead to extreme repercussions later in that system, such as "a tornado in Texas."

Lorenz was a meteorologist (and previously an Army Air Corps weather forecaster during WWII) who was trying to use mathematical models to make long-range forecasts of wind currents. One day back in 1961, Lorenz ran a computer simulation that he had run before (using one of those early, building-sized computers) and got a completely different result than he had the first time. Very surprising, since he had thought everything had been entered exactly the same. It turns out that this time he had rounded the number 0.506127 to 0.506, a 0.1% difference.

Some people would shrug that off, re-enter the correct number, and continue on with their work. I've known lab rats like that. But Lorenz was among the few who could see this result and realize the great significance of it. What he had stumbled upon was proof that very small changes, like a seemingly minor increase in temperature or wind speed and direction, could cause profound weather deviations down the line, perhaps in a totally different part of the world. This factor was dubbed the "Lorenz Attractor."

For example, if you start a ball rolling at the top of a hill, but it is at only a very slightly different position, it will likely wind up at a very different position at the bottom. Or if a seagull flapped its wings at just the right time and place in Brazil, the change it created in the wind could lead to a tornado in Texas (to use his examples). These sorts of things have been demonstrated in simulations again and again, including with the newest supercomputers. The movie "It's A Wonderful Life" illustrates this principle, in a more sappy, cultural manner (I cry everytime when George Bailey's brother makes that toast at the end!).

So, let me see if I understand: if a plaza full of Germans eating Octoberfest sauerkraut, brautworst, and beer suddenly let loose with a cloud of warm gas (from whichever end you choose), the sudden change in heat and wind could cause a cascade of events that leads to winds that rip across the Atlantic and belch up a hurricane that ravages America?

Damned Germans. I knew it! They caused Hurricane Katrina!

That's it! I'm throwing out my laderhosen.

Of course, those "Lorenz Attractors" can prevent devient weather, too.

And as for Dr. Lorenz, he led a very active life, with many awards, scholarly papers, and academic achievements, most of which seem to revolve around the later refinements of his initial discovery. You could say his personal "Butterfly Effect" was his own discovery of the Butterfly Effect, if that makes any sense. His Butterfly Effect theory has led to a better understanding of seemingly random events that can drastically change our weather – more important now than ever with global warming – and has been used in science fields far beyond meteorology.

He was an avid sportsman, even into old age. But cancer finally claimed him a few days ago, on April 16. He died at home in Cambridge, with family, having finished yet another paper only a week before. He was 90 years old.

Thank you for your contributions, Dr. Lorenz. And I'm glad to hear that your death wasn't a chaotic one. I just wonder what that last breath of yours did to the weather.


Images taken from HERE and HERE.

Goodbye To The Master Of Dungeons

When I was in fourth grade, my mother gave me a new game. I remember it well. I thought this was a strange game, since it had no board, no colorful pieces, or anything electronic. It was a game where you were supposed to play pretend, but you didn't dress up or run around. Instead you looked at maps and rolled dice, and you were supposed to talk all the way through it. And you couldn't play it alone.

The game was Dungeons & Dragons.

"How very odd," I thought. But the dice were all sorts of odd shapes, you played a character that interacted with and fought mythological beasts, and there were all sorts of complex rules and statistics to deal with. Even the cover of the box was fascinating, with a picture of a dragon on a pile of golden treasure, about to engage in battle with a wizard and an archer.

The budding geek in me was instantly hooked. I quickly found a neighbor kid to play with, then other friends, and by the time I was a teenager I was a pro, spending all-night D&D sessions with friends and pizza and laughter, populating our imaginations with elves and dragons, dwarves and warriors, wizards and kingdoms. The fantastic world I created for those games became the fantasy world I write fiction in today.

If you are an American under the age of 40 and work in some technical field, I'd say there is a higher-than-average chance that you enjoyed this game in your youth. And, if so, there are pretty decent odds you still play it when you get a chance, or some other role-playing game or video game spawned by the revolution that game created.

And it is all due to the vision and creativity of two men, Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson, in 1974.

Sadly, Gary Gygax died today.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/TECH/03/04/obit.gygax.ap/index.html

The article says that he died at home, in Lake Geneva, and had suffered a number of ailments. He was 69.

But I prefer to believe that his hit points ran out. He may have been at 100th-level, but you only have so much armor class to go around!

When Gygax and Arneson developed the game, they drew upon some previous wargaming experience and merged it with role-playing, a heretofore psychological technique of imagining yourself in someone else's shoes to better understand their way of thinking. Except instead of pretending you were your dysfunctional relative, you instead imagined yourself as a heroic medieval fighter or wizard. Cool!

Derided by evangelical fundamentalists as the spawn of Satan, or heralded as the King of Geeks by teenage boys with glasses, Gary Gygax was certainly the father of role-playing games, giving birth to an entire class of games and game systems.

More importantly, though, he has inspired several generations of children with the power of imagination, the effects of which have certainly gone beyond the realm of medieval role-playing and into the innovative spirit they carried into their careers, as I have.

He hosted role-playing games right up to January of this year. He is survived by his wife, six children, and seven grandchildren. Hopefully they are enjoying their patriarch's legacy as much as I did.

So, Gary, thank you for your inspiration. It's been fun.

In his own words, "Games give you a chance to excel, and if you're playing in good company you don't even mind if you lose because you had the enjoyment of the company during the course of the game." (source)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to unsheathe my +8 Pen of Creativity, strap on my Armor of Imagination, and go do some fantasy writing. And, yes, there will be elves involved!


Addendum (3/7/08): On an almost-unrelated note, check out this webpage for the “Goblin Defense Fund”: http://www.goblindefensefund.org/main.html.

Addendum (3/9/08): Cartoon: Gygax versus Death: http://xkcd.com/393/.

Image taken from HERE, where you can also find a great interview.

African-American Scientists: Earnest Everett Just

February is Black History Month. It is a time for us to remember the sacrifices made by African American forefathers in building America, and the contributions they have made, and continue to make, toward making our nation great. When we think of those contributions, too many of us focus on the famous stereotypes: singers, sports stars, social and equal-rights figures, great though they are, but too often forgotten are those who contributed in the other fields. It is in this vein that I feature on this blog, each February, historical and contemporary African American Scientists.

Earnest Everett Just was born in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1883. His mother was a teacher, and thus knew full well the importance of a good education and the challenges facing African Americans to get an excellent education at that time. At 13, he was sent north, to New Hampshire, to attend a college preparatory school, Kimball Academy. He finished in only three years (instead of four) and graduated class valedictorian. He went on to Dartmouth College, specializing in cell biology studies, earning degrees in biology and history. Again, he was class valedictorian, as well as magna cum laude. Next he went to Howard University, where he eventually became the head of the Department of Zoology, and stayed until his retirement, except for a brief period during which he earned his Ph.D. from the University of Chicago.

Dr. Just's greatest contribution to science resonates even to my own career, studying live-cell physiology. Just believed in the radical notion of studying cells as close as possible to their natural state, looking at the whole, living cell rather than breaking it up into its component parts. He became well known for his studies of marine mammal reproduction and fertilization events, as well as cell division, parthenogenesis, effects of UV radiation on chromosome number, and studying the role of the cell surface in its overall physiological state, much of which took place at the Marine Biology Lab at Woods Hole (one of several marine science centers set up over a hundred years ago). Like me, microscopy was his chosen mode of observation.

Increasingly frustrated with the racial prejudice in the United States, Just studied abroad starting in 1929, eventually studying in Italy, Germany, and France.

In 1940, Just was briefly a prisoner of war when Germany invaded France. The U.S. State Department negotiated his release, but he grew ill just before being captured, worsened during the imprisonment, and never fully recovered. He died of pancreatic cancer in October of 1941. He was survived by his wife and three children.

Here are some additional resources about the life and accomplishments of Earnest Everett Just:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernest_Everett_Just

http://esperstamps.org/h19.htm

http://web2.ccpl.org/prvEmployees/HTML/scienceproject/ScienceWalk/Ernest%20Everett%20Just.html

http://www.factmonster.com/ipka/A0775692.html

http://www.blackinventor.com/pages/ernestjust.html


Picture taken from HERE.

My Aunt Marsha

My Aunt Marsha passed away in her home last Sunday. One of my mother's sisters, she would have been 66 this April.

When I was a very small boy, I couldn’t pronounce my aunt's name. Instead, I simply called her "Aunt She", a name that stuck. My memories of Aunt She are of a free-loving woman who had a great fondness for fun and laughter. She and her husband, my Uncle Chuck, literally had the 17th hole of their golf resort as their back yard. I think they drove their golf cart more than their cars. My teenage summers in the hot, humid South were spent in large part in their heavily air-conditioned home, lounging by the poolside of the resort, soaking in her hot tub, or meandering along the curving, manicured fairways from hole to hole. I would sometimes drive her golf cart for her. Spending the night with them, I would stay up much too late and watch movies on HBO, via their satellite TV (of course, they were among the first to get such a novel system). She enjoyed games, particular card games and Scrabble. She loved gambling, and cigarettes, and Southern food (and it showed). Even the jobs she held reflected her interests in her last couple decades: manning the resort's Pro Shop, working at a liquor store, or working at a cigarette outlet.

But good health isn't something that comes easy to my family. We are prone to circulation and heart problems, weight problems, and other such conditions which aren't amenable to cigarettes, Southern food, or, well, fun livin'. Aunt Marsha had heart attacks, bypass surgery, circulatory problems, and kidney failure.

She is survived by my Uncle Chuck. They were childhood sweethearts, married just out of high school. In an age of high divorce rates, particularly for her generation, a forty-seven year marriage is nearly unheard of. There are lessens to learn from that. She had one son, my cousin Chris (who also has had severe heart problems), and two grandchildren, Lauryn and Christopher (see picture of Marsha with Christopher). Aunt Marsha doted on her grandkids like all good grandmas should.

Despite all of her love of living, she wasn't prone to vanity or ego. She didn't want flowers sent or anything, but there will be a memorial service Friday at the community center there at her golf community. I live half a continent away, so this blog post will have to do, I guess, for showing my love for her.

If I could learn lessons from the life of my Aunt Marsha, it would be that we should never be afraid to enjoy the fun things, and to live for today, but that temperance is sometimes a good thing. I don't get enough exercise, but I don't smoke, and my food is usually organic and reasonably healthy (despite my urges). If I'm lucky, maybe I'll live longer than she did.

Rest in peace, Aunt She. I love you. And when you reach the Great Golf Course in the sky, play a round for me. Perhaps I'll drive your golf cart when I get there.

MLK Day 2008

A part of me wishes that one day I could do something so extraordinary for our society that I could have a day set aside for me once a year for people to reflect on my great achievement and, of course, get a day off from work or school to do so.

But then, in order to do that extraordinary thing, I would of course have to sacrifice my sense of privacy, my family life, my day job, and probably get killed by some fanatic who disagrees with whatever noble thing I'm trying to accomplish. Let's face it, there are loonies out there, at every level.

So let's take a moment on this day to think about one of those great figures who sacrificed everything, including his life, to make the world a little kinder and equal: Martin Luther King, Jr. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_luther_king).

Even though my evil global biotech conglomerate does not officially recognize the importance of King's birthday as a symbol of their commitment to equality and diversity, I took the day off. I'm spending it with a group of ethnically, racially, and physically diverse children, including my own, and going for a hike in the woods. Along the way, we'll be reading King's acceptance speech for his Nobel Peace Prize, given for his commitment and action for non-violent change toward equality:

http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates/1964/king-acceptance.html

Please join me in taking a moment to appreciate the great diversity that is our country, and recommit ourselves to honoring the equality of all mankind on this very small, very connected world of ours.

Goodbye, Nimbus

Back in 1996, my wife and I had been married only a year when we moved to the state we currently live in. We immediately went to the animal shelter and adopted a kitty cat, a loving, young, dark gray cat that looked like a little rain cloud. We named him Nimbus.

Two nights ago, after 11 years, our little rain cloud passed away, dying quietly at home.

Within a year of first bringing him home, Nimbus developed a case of irritable bowel syndrome. The vet prescribed him steroid pills, without which he would not be able to keep food down. I gave him a pill every night for 10 years. The steroids kept him alive, but they slowly poisoned him, too, until, a month or so ago, he had kidney failure and stopped making new blood cells. Dialysis wasn’t a reasonable option, so we knew the end was coming. I’m just happy he went without pain, at home, and didn’t have to be taken to the vet to be euthanized. He spared us that.

When we brought him home as a kitten, he was so thankful that he went back and forth between our laps, purring and being loved. He could jump incredibly high while chasing ribbons and strings, doing flips and jumping from a sitting position so high his paws would touch the top of a door. Then one day he landed wrong, hurting his leg. He hardly jumped again after that.

Nimbus was a big cat, comparatively, but very much a lap kitty, and would bug me for attention any time I was sitting, particularly if I wanted to read. And he was very soft. He would sleep by my head every night, whether I wanted him to or not. I’ll miss that.

Though we got three other housecats after Nimbus, Nimbus was like our first baby, through six years of infertility treatments, then the adoption of our two children.

He’s being cremated, and I imagine we’ll bury his ashes in the flower bed, near the bird feeder.

Goodbye, my Nimbus. We love you.

Goodbye To A Language Pioneer

I love it when the natural world thumbs its nose at Mankind's egotism. Consider, for instance, the belief that out of all the animal kingdom only humans are advanced enough to communicate beyond random grunts, territorial chirping, and mating calls. The more science studies animal communication, the more we realize how very complex their languages are. Dolphins and whales are a common example. But even there we like to believe that their language is restricted only to communicating that they're hungry, or horny, or found a good patch of krill. How could we possibly know they aren't waxing poetic about the place of dolphin-kind in the universe? Are we prepared to believe they may have complex thought? Could they even be more advanced than we are in some manner? Sacrilege!

In fact, I'm willing to believe that some animals consider us as being below them. If you don’t agree, ask any cat owner.

A week ago, the world lost the first non-human animal to prove us wrong.

Story: http://www.blogger.com/www.cnn.com/2007/TECH/science/10/31/signing.chimp.dies.ap/index.html

Washoe was a chimpanzee who, in 1966, became the first primate to be taught American Sign Language. Previous attempts to teach chimps how to verbally communicate all ended in failure. But chimps communicate with gestures in the wild. Why not train them as if they were a deaf human baby? What would be the result? The little chimpanzee immediately began picking up our language, signing the word "toothbrush" when she saw the implement in a bathroom, for instance.

By the time she died on October 30 after a short illness, at the long-lived age of 42, Washoe had a vocabulary of 250 words and had taught sign language to each of her four children (who are 29 to 31 years of age now). She has been housed at the University of Washington's Chimpanzee and Human Communication Institute, where a memorial service will be held on November 12.

Here is a website for the organization that oversaw Washoe and continues to study and take care of her offspring, "Friends of Washoe": http://www.friendsofwashoe.org/.

Washoe was only the first. Likely you have heard of Koko, the signing gorilla (HERE), who, like Washoe, regularly communicates complex thoughts and emotions and has been the continuing source of fascinating studies, documentaries, and articles.

But, hey, Mankind is still God's chosen children. Right? Right??

Sometimes I wonder if the world might be better run by chimps. Sure, they fight each other now and then, but when I read the headlines on any given day I really wonder which is the higher primate. Besides, chimps have sex just to say "hi". That can't be a bad sign.

So what is Washoe's legacy? Simply put, she put us in our place. For the first time one species learned to communicate with another species using their own language. That's monumental! After a year of French in high school and another year of German in college, I still couldn't hold a conversation in either language, and that was with members of my own species.

And what were Washoe's last words? I'd love to find out, but I'm willing to guess it was something to the effect of, "Humans so dumb. Can't learn single word in Chimpanzee!"

They Found Scotty's Ash. No Klingons Spotted.

You may remember that, at the end of April, I had a post about a company called Celestis launching a rocket into space containing the ashes of James Doohan (who played "Scotty" in Star Trek), Gordon Cooper (the early NASA astronaut), and about 200 other people into space. Then, a week ago, I posted about how the rocket had been lost in the mountains of New Mexico.


Well, they found the rocket, and its payload is safe and sound. Scotty made it back in one piece (as close to "one piece" as a lipstick-sized canister of a few grams of his ashes could be):
http://cosmiclog.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2007/05/18/196359.aspx

Yes, the ashes of two notable legends of space flight and space fiction were kept in little metal lipstick cases. Not terribly "manly," but understandable. The only trick is getting everything through the case's little "ashhole."

The radio transmitters had come off during the descent, thus leading the searchers astray, when, in truth, the rocket had come down only a mile away from where they intended -- not in the mountainous areas, but in a nice, flat area of New Mexico. The ashes were recovered, proving that Celestic can tell the difference between Scotty's ash and a hole in the ground, and returned the remains to the families, along with souvenirs. There had also been some student experiments onboard.

Now, none of the previous articles had said that the ashes were supposed to return to earth. The purpose had apparently been to send the ashes into low orbit and then back down to earth.

Big Frickin' deal.

Man, if my ashes were going to be sent up into freakin' space, I'd want them to stay there. How lame is it that they came back down – on purpose!

But the company is going to redeem itself. At a later date they will send Doohan's and Cooper's ashes back up to stay, until they eventually burn up upon re-entry. Much more respectable, if I may say so. A fiery re-entry, like the Enterprise burning up in the atmosphere of the Genesis Planet in "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan." Oh yeah. Self-destruct, baby!

Doohan died on July 20, 2005, on the anniversary of the Apollo 11 lunar landing. Cooper died on October 4, 2004, the same day SpaceShipOne made its second official qualifying flight and won the Ansari X-Prize. Ironies abound.

And what would Gordo and Doohan say about the next flight and its cost if they were still alive? Gordo would give a thumbs-up, I think, and say "No bucks – no Buck Rogers."

And Doohan? I'll let his character say it for him: "Any man who could perform such a feat, I wo'd na dare disappoint. She'll launch on time. And she'll be ready." -- Scotty, Star Trek: The Motion Picture

Scotty's Ashes Are Lost, On Earth!

At the end of April I had a post about how the cremated remains of James Doohan (“Scotty” from Star Trek) and Gordon Cooper (NASA astronaut from the Mercury and Gemini missions) had been blasted into orbit, along with ashes from about 200 other people.

It seems I spoke too soon.

According to a report released yesterday, their rocket didn’t actually end up in orbit. Instead, it crashed somewhere in New Mexico’s mountains and is currently lost!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/18594384/?GT1=9951

Oops! Talk about a half-ashed launch! As the rocket was headed back earthward, I could just hear the conversation between Doohan and Cooper’s ghosts:

Gordo: “Houston, we have a problem. Scotty, we need more power.”

Scotty: “I’m givin’ ‘er all she’s got, Cap’n! The warp coil can’t take much more ‘o this!”

Are they looking for the rocket’s “remains”? You bet your ash they are, but the landscape is so rugged and overgrown with vegetation they are having a very difficult time.

I wonder what state the ashes are in. Are the little cans all opened and jumbled up? Will they try to scoop up the ashes and divvy up the remains between the cans? Are Gordo and Scotty truly going to spend eternity together? How much of an effort will be made to separate out bits of debris, soil, and rocket fuel?

They are bringing in telemetry equipment to search. Stay tuned to this blog post for updates.

Update (5/19/07): They found the rocket and ash cannisters, unharmed. See the update post at: http://angrylabrat.blogspot.com/2007/05/they-found-scottys-ash.html.

Astronaut Wally Schirra Has Died

Yesterday the world marked the death of Wally Schirra. He was America's fifth astronaut to go into space during the Mercury space program, flew on the Gemini and Apollo programs, flew jets in the Korean war, was a businessman, and worked as an aerospace engineer. He was 84.

http://www.cnn.com/2007/TECH/space/05/03/schirra.obit/index.html

Of course there's a sadness about it. This is the only astronaut to have flown for "the big three" programs: Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo, but I feel a certain gladness that he lived long enough to see SkyLab, the shuttle program, numerous exciting unmanned probe missions to the other planets in the solar system, the Hubble space telescope, the implementation of the International Space Station, the first private space program (SpaceShipOne and Virgin Galactic), and now the (hopefully) creation of a manned mission to Mars.

Wally Schirra (pronounced "shuh-rah") was born in 1923 to a father who was a barnstormer and WWI flying ace and a mother who was a wing-walker. Wally was flying his father's plane by the time he was 15. After studying at the New Jersey Institute of Technology, Shirra served with the Navy at the end of WWII, then went on to fly jets after the war, the first pilot to log over 1000 hours in jets. When the Korean war broke out, he went "on loan" to the Air Force and flew 90 missions, downing a MiG-15 and damaging two others. After the war, he helped develop the sidewinder missile and worked as a test pilot (where he earned the nickname of "Skyray" after the name of one of the planes).

What he is best known for, of course, is his time at NASA, where he was known to cut the stressful moments with laughter and joking, earning him another nickname ("Jolly Wally"). He used his engineering to develop the environmental systems and spacesuits, then piloted the Mercury 8 spacecraft in October of 1962, orbiting the earth 6 times. In December of 1965, he continued his space experience by flying with Tom Stafford in Gemini 6A, rendezvousing in space with Lovell and Borman in Gemini 7. His last flight into space was onboard Apollo 7, the first manned flight of the program, with Donn Eisele and Walter Cunningham. They docked with their Saturn 1-B launch vehicle and took video of the flight (which, interestingly, earned him an Emmy!).

After his space years, Wally continued as a news consultant to Walter Cronkite and as a spokesman for Actifed (which he had taken to relieve a cold for the Apollo 7 mission).

He went on to be CEO, board president, or director of a number of engineering, energy, and investment corporations.

I highly encourage you tens of readers to visit Schirra's web page: http://www.wallyschirra.com/. There you can find an interesting 30-minute video ("Skyray – the movie) where he tells his own story. The site also has interesting videos by him and written descriptions of his missions and thoughts.

Well, Wally, you are a blaze of glory in the annals of American heroes. Maybe, if your family cremates you, you can join your old pal Gordo up in orbit again.

Thank you, Jolly Wally.


Update (5/21/07): A memorial service was held today for Shirra, with many astronauts showing their respects, including Mercury astronaut Scott Carpenter, Gemini astronauth Thomas Stafford, and Apollo astronaut Gene Cernan:
http://www.cnn.com/2007/TECH/space/05/22/schirra.remembered.ap/index.html.

Doohan & Cooper Are Now Star-Stuff

Yes, Saturday was the day when "Scotty" and "Gordo" became star-stuff.

If you remember my previous post on the subject, James Doohan (who played "Scotty" in Star Trek) and Gordon Cooper (astronaut for the Mercury and Gemini space programs) were to have their remains launched into space. Well, a little before 9AM, a small rocket carried a few grams of their ashes and the ashes of about 200 other space-lovers into low earth orbit:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070428/ap_on_re_us/rocket_launch

HERE is a video of the launch (followed by a little news article about Trekkies making their own films in Scotland – sorry, it was the best I could do, but if you geek out and enjoy the Trekkie part I'll have to make jokes about the age you lost your virginity at).

Here's another interesting and oh-so-juicy tidbit for you lovers of great sci-fi ideas come to life: The rocket that launched Scotty and Gordo's remains was the first rocket launched from Spaceport America, the location where Richard Branson will be locating his space tourist business (Virgin Galactic), in the New Mexico desert not far from Los Cruces. (Yes, the same one who will fly Stephen Hawking up there). Sure, the spaceport is just a concrete slab right now, but within a couple years it will be the start of a new industry, with rocket launching facilities comparable to Cape Canaveral.

Oh, Jesus, a shiver just went up my spine. Is it . . . yes! It is! A twinge of excitement! Suddenly, for that moment, I lost my jaded working-for-evil-biotech blues and actually felt the thrill of pursuing civilization-shaking science. Oh, to be a rocket scientist in the coming years!

Cooper, Doohan, wherever you fellas are at this moment (other than orbit), I hope you're tuning in to my digital bits right now and feeling my honest admiration for what you've done. I'm not talking about the actual advancement of technology. I'm talking about firing the imaginations of several generations of kids like me (okay, the kid I once was, and still am inside). And when your ashes fall back to earth and become cremated all over again, let me say it will be an honor to look upon you in that shining sunset and think about space tourists flying through you to the final frontier. Hell, I might just be one of them.

UPDATE (5/11/07): The rocket failed to reach orbit, and crashed in New Mexico! See this blog post: http://angrylabrat.blogspot.com/2007/05/scottys-ashes-are-lost-on-earth.html.

Guess Who's Going To Orbit Earth Forever

Yes, fellow space lovers, it is a grand time in the history of the world when our space heroes can be sent into orbit after death for us to forever gaze up at them, a star circling the world, a Space God to be worshipped from below.

Later this month, the ashes of astronaut Gordon “Gordo” Cooper, James Doohan (a.k.a. “Scotty” from Star Trek), and a couple hundred other space-lovers will be blasted into orbit to be enshrined in a little can in the radiation-baking void of space:

http://www.technewsworld.com/story/56658.html

Already in orbit are the remains of Doohan’s colleague, Gene Roddenberry.

Does this constitute a production? A great Star Trek epic in orbit?

I think of the late night re-runs of Star Trek that I would stay up for each night, marveling in the flashy, solid-colored, oh-so-campy sets and aliens, relishing every word of the ethics-saturated plots and forced accents. But I loved it. You gave ‘er all she’s got, James! And now, every time I watch Star Trek or one of the many, many, off-shoots it created, I can rest assured that the little silver canisters containing a few grams of Scotty and Roddenberry will be protecting me from a tiny percentage of micro-meteors. Thank you, fellas!

And as for Gordo, true space pioneer of Mercury and Gemini missions, believer in UFO cover-ups and later administrator for Disney and Epcot, I can only give a salute and a thumbs-up for a job well done. Now he will evermore rest where he entered the record books (for instance, he was the first astronaut to sleep in space – and on the launchpad during countdown!).

Yes, I’ll think of you guys with a little shrine of my own. Come 4th of July, I’ll shoot off a little bottle rocket to the Great Spacecraft in the Sky. Given it costs only about $500 (US$) to put a few grams of my ashes up there as well, I might very well join you one day, and thus have myself “beamed up”, Scotty.

African-American Scientists: Daniel Hale Williams

For the last of my Black History Month tributes to African-American Scientists, I spotlight Dr. Daniel Hale Williams, a pioneer in turn-of-the-century surgery and sterile procedure, founder of early African-American and integrated hospitals, and instructor of medicine.

A good bio from which much of this was taken:

http://www.blackinventor.com/pages/danielwilliams.html

Williams was born to a mixed-race family in Hollidaysburg, Pennsylvania, January 18, 1856, the fifth of seven children. His father, also named Daniel Williams, a white man, was an active abolitionist. Daniel's mother was a free Black woman, Sarah Price Williams. Daniel's father was a barber and moved the family to Annapolis, Maryland but died shortly thereafter of tuberculosis, when Daniel was 11.

Although some members of the family lived as whites, and he could also have done so, Daniel refused to "pass" and actively identified himself as Black. Soon after his father died his mother sent her children to live with different relatives, except Daniel, who was apprenticed to a shoemaker in Baltimore, while she went to live in Illinois. After a while Daniel left his apprenticeship and followed her, but although the reunion was happy, his mother soon moved to Maryland with his sisters to rejoin the other children, and Daniel elected to stay in Illinois.

For the next several years he worked and lived with various cousins, but when he was 16 he struck out on his own and moved to Wisconsin, where he became a barber, living very happily with his employer's family, and also attended high school. His employer-cum foster father later financed his medical training at Northwestern University Medical School (known at the time as the Chicago Medical College). Initially, Williams was apprenticed to a well-known Civil War surgeon for the Union, Dr. Henry Palmer. Williams graduated in 1883.

Because of primitive social and medical circumstances existing in that era, much of Williams early medical practice called for him to treat patients in their homes, including conducting occasional surgeries on kitchen tables. In doing so, Williams utilized many of the emerging antiseptic, sterilization procedures of the day and thereby gained a reputation for professionalism. He was soon appointed as a surgeon on the staff of the South Side Dispensary and then a clinical instructor in anatomy at Northwestern. In 1889 he was appointed to the Illinois State Board of Health and one year later set for to create an interracial hospital.

On January 23, 1891 Daniel Hale Williams established the Provident Hospital and Training School Association, a three story building which held 12 beds and served members of the community as a whole. The school also served to train Black nurses and utilized doctors of all races. The hospital's success rate was phenomenal considering the financial and health conditions of the patient, and primitive conditions of most hospitals. Much can be attributed to Williams insistence on the highest standards concerning procedures and sanitary conditions.

Williams is perhaps best known for a surgery he performed at Provident Hospital in 1893. Internal surgery was almost unheard of at the time due to the high risk of infection. When a man came in who had been stabbed in the chest, Williams took the initiative to open the chest and perform surgery, suturing a cut through the pericardium (sac around the heart), then applying antiseptic procedures before closing. Cured, the patient walked out of the hospital 51 days later and lived another fifty years. Technically this isn't an open heart surgery, and similar surgeries had been performed in Europe on at least a couple occasions over the hundred years prior, yet Williams is often credited with "the first open heart surgery."

In February 1894, Daniel Hale Williams was appointed as Chief Surgeon at the Freedmen's Hospital in Washington, D.C. and reorganized the hospital, creating seven medical and surgical departments, setting up pathological and bacteriological units, establishing a biracial staff of highly qualified doctors and nurses and established an internship program. Recognition of his efforts and their success came when doctors from all over the country traveled to Washington to view the hospital and to sit in on surgery performed there. Almost immediately there was an astounding increase in efficiency as well as a decrease in patient deaths.

During this time, Williams married Alice Johnson and the couple soon moved to Chicago after Daniel resigned from the Freedmen's hospital. He resumed his position as Chief Surgeon at Provident Hospital (which could now accommodate 65 patients) as well as for nearby Mercy Hospital and St. Luke's Hospital, an exclusive hospital for wealthy White patients. He was also asked to travel across the country to attend to important patients or to oversee certain procedures.

When the American Medical Association refused to accept Black members, Williams helped to set up and served as Vice-President of the National Medical Association. In 1912, Williams was appointed associate attending surgeon at St. Luke's and worked there until his retirement from the practice of medicine.

Upon his retirement, Daniel Hale Williams had bestowed upon him numerous honors and awards. He received honorary degrees from Howard and Wilberforce Universities, was named a charter member of the American College of Surgeons and was a member of the Chicago Surgical Society.

Williams died from a stroke on August 4, 1931, in Idlewild, Michigan, having set standards and examples for surgeons, both Black and White, for years to come.

African-American Scientists: Shirley Ann Jackson

Continuing my celebration of Black History Month, this week's featured African-American scientist is Shirley Ann Jackson, a theoretical physicist, world expert in nuclear regulation, and current president of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute.

A good profile: http://www.rpi.edu/president/profile.html

Dr. Jackson is the first African-American woman to receive a doctorate from M.I.T. — in any subject. She is one of the first two African-American women to receive a doctorate in physics in the U.S. She is the first African-American to become a Commissioner of the U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission. She is both the first woman and the first African-American to serve as the chairman of the U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission, and now the first African-American woman to lead a national research university. She also is the first African-American woman elected to the National Academy of Engineering.

Shirley Jackson was born in Washington, D.C., in 1946. Strongly supported by her parents, she excelled in school, attending accelerated classes in math and science, and graduating in 1964 as valedictorian. She immediately entered M.I.T., studying theoretical physics while volunteering at the Boston City Hospital and the YMCA. Four years later she graduated with her bachelors degree, writing her dissertation on solid-state physics (which was at the forefront of theoretical physics at the time). Although accepted at Brown, Harvard, and the University of Chicago, Jackson decided to stay at MIT for her doctoral work, because she wanted to encourage more African American students to attend the institution. She earned her Ph.D. in elemental particle theory in1973.

In the '70s, Jackson focused on high-energy particle physics, including work at the Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory. In the '80s and early '90s she worked on a wide array of physics including energy superlattices, superconductors, neutrino research, quantum physics, and opto-electronic materials, preparing or collaborating on over 100 scientific articles.

From 1991 to 1995, Dr. Jackson was professor of physics at Rutgers University, where she taught undergraduate and graduate students, conducted research on the electronic and optical properties of two-dimensional systems, and supervised Ph.D. candidates. She concurrently served as a consultant in semiconductor theory to AT&T Bell Laboratories

By the mid-'90s Jackson increasingly became affiliated with politics and nuclear policy. In 1995 President Bill Clinton appointed Dr. Jackson to serve as Chairperson of the U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission (NRC), continuing until 1999. As Chairperson, she was the principal executive officer of and the official spokesperson for the NRC. While in this role, Jackson worked with a number of world organizations and served as a liaison between our nation and others for nuclear issues, including the International Atomic Energy Agency. Jackson served 10 years as a member of the New Jersey Commission on Science and Technology, appointed by the governor.

Jackson holds an amazing 40 honorary doctoral degrees, including at Harvard University, and holds more awards than I could reasonably list here. She was inducted into the National Women’s Hall of Fame in 1998 for her significant and profound contributions as a distinguished scientist and advocate for education, science, and public policy. She was inducted into the Women in Technology International Foundation Hall of Fame (WITI) in June 2000. WITI recognizes women technologists and scientists whose achievements are exceptional.

Since 1999, Shirley Jackson has served as the 18th president of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, in Troy, New York. Dr. Jackson is married to Dr. Morris A. Washington, also a physicist. They have one son, Alan, a graduate of Dartmouth College.

African-American Scientists: Guion S. Bluford, Jr.

Given the recent news of out-of-control astronauts, let's take a moment to revisit the heroic and accomplished record of the others. For instance, today, astronaut Michael Lopez-Alegria broke the U.S. record for most time performing space walks as he performed some maintenance work on the International Space Station (CNN Story).

In continuing honor of Black History Month, this Thursday's tribute is for another astronaut of great accomplishment: Guion S. Bluford, Jr., known as "Guy". Bluford, who is now age 65, is an aerospace engineer, a retired colonel in the U.S. Air Force, retired astronaut with NASA's space shuttle program, and the first African-American to go into space.

His Wikipedia biography (which has a link to his NASA bio): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guion_S._Bluford

Guy was born in Philadelphia, PA, in 1942. I wonder about his first name, Guion. It leaves me scratching my head about the exact pronunciation, but I have to say it rates pretty high on my name-ranking system. Given his nickname is "Guy" I would conclude it is pronounced "guy-on." I couldn't find any information about his youth, except that he was an Eagle Scout with the Boy Scouts of America. Bluford received his BS in aerospace engineering from Penn State in 1964, then attended pilot training, earning his wings in 1966. He was promptly shipped off to Vietnam where he flew 144 missions, 65 of which were over North Vietnam, in less than two years. He soon returned to the U.S. where he became a flight trainer and executive.

Always busy achieving, Bluford found time to earn an MS in aerospace engineering from the Air Force Institute of Technology in 1974, then his PhD in aerospace engineering with a minor in laser physics from the Air Force Institute of Technology in 1978. Apparently his scientific research in his pre-astronaut years revolved around computational fluid dynamics regarding air flow around wing designs for planes and missiles and missle thrust vectoring. He has published at least three papers on these topics, but most of his work was for the military and not shared with the academic world.

Within a year of earning his Ph.D., Bluford became an astronaut with NASA (though he wasn't the first African-American accepted as an astronaut, that honor goes to Maj. Robert Lawrence, Jr., who died in a plane crash prior to going into space). Bluford became the first African-American in space onboard the Challenger in 1983 (the first mission to launch and land at night). He served on three additional space shuttle flights between then and 1992. He was a specialist operating the robotic arm (remote manipulator system), worked with avionics systems, was a key figure on Spacelab experiments, and dealt with payload safety issues. He has logged 688 hours in space. He was inducted into the International Space Hall of Fame in 1997.

Of interesting note is Bluford's association with the Challenger Flag, a U.S. Capitol flag that was given to a Boy Scout troop, then flown on the last Challenger mission. After the flag was recovered (undamaged!) from the remains of the Challenger, Bluford (being an Eagle Scout and astronaut) was the emissary who returned the Challenger flag to Boy Scout Troop 514 of Monument, Colorado in December, 1986. On December 18 of that year, he presented the flag to the troop in a special ceremony at Falcon Air Force Base. The flag has since been honored at a number of ceremonies, including the Winter Olympics at Salt Lake City.

Bluford left NASA in 1993 to take a position as Vice President/General Manager of the Engineering Services Division of a company called NYMA inc., in Brook Park, Ohio. I couldn't find a home page for the company, but they do some sort of engineering contracts for the Department of Defense.

On his NASA page, Bluford's hobbies are listed as reading, swimming, jogging, racquetball, handball, and scuba, but in his own words, during his astronaut years: "The job is so fantastic, you don’t need a hobby. The hobby is going to work."

African-American Scientists: George Washington Carver

February is Black History Month. To celebrate this, I am going to feature an African American Scientist every Thursday this month.

My first choice is probably the most historically famous: George Washington Carver, a chemist, food scientist, botanist, and agriculturist.

Here is the Wikipedia biography:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Washington_Carver

Carver was born into slavery in what is now known as Diamond, Missouri, most likely in 1864. His slave owner was a German immigrant named Moses Carver, who traded for George. As George Carver is later quoted, "When I was a child, my owner saw what he considered to be a good business deal and immediately accepted it. He traded me off for a horse." Baby George, his mother Mary, and a sister were later kidnapped from Moses Carver by Confederate raiders. By the time Moses was able to get George back, George had whooping cough, and his mother and sister were most likely dead. Soon slavery was abolished, and Moses Carver and his wife raised George and his brother Jim as their own children and taught them to read and write. Eventually George took his adopted father's last name as his own, by choice. You hear plenty of stories about abusive slave owners, but this makes me think that Moses Carver may have been the exception.

Because of his race, George met with difficulties in attending grade school, but didn't let that stop him from a good education. As Carver is quoted, "Education is the key to unlock the golden door of freedom." He moved from school to school, eventually graduating high school in Minneapolis, Kansas.

Carver also faced the same difficulty getting accepted into colleges, but was eventually successful. He started as the second African-American to attend Simpson College, in Iowa, but eventually moved to what was to become Iowa State College, as their first African-American student. It was there that he started using the middle name Washington, since another student had the same first and last name. After graduation, Carver stayed on as their first African-American Master's student, then faculty member. Carver eventually changed jobs to teach at the five-year old Tuskegee University, where he remained for 47 years until his death in 1943.

If you've ever heard of George Washington Carver, chances are the things you took away from the lesson were that Carver was an early Black scientist and that he invented all sorts of wonderful and exotic uses for the lowly peanut. Why peanuts? Because all the cotton farming down South had depleted nitrogen from the fields. Peanuts and other legumes replenished the nitrogen, so Carver encouraged farmers to plant them. But there were only so many uses for the plant (salted peanuts, anyone?). So to help all those farmers that had planted a nearly unmarketable crop, he invented lots of recipes and products for them and helped market them.

What was he reputed to have invented? Carver developed between one-hundred and three-hundred applications for peanuts and 118 for sweet potatoes, (http://www.npg.si.edu/edu/brush/guide/unit2/carver.html) including bleach, metal polish, paper, plastic, glue for postage stamps, printer's ink, plant milk, cooking oils, flour, instant coffee, mayonnaise, meat tenderizer, cheese, dyes, shaving cream, shoe polish, synthetic rubber, talcum powder, wood stains, varnish, soap, vinegar and cooking sauces. He made similar investigations into uses for cowpeas, soybeans and pecans. Also he authored three patents (one for cosmetics, and two for paints and stains). Now, I'd like to know exactly how a frickin' peanut can be turned into some of these products, but apparently he made it happen – and therein lies his talent. He also invented a form of peanut butter, but don't start thinking Jiff or Peter Pan peanut butter. It was more like the oily, gritty, unsugared organic sh*t you get at health stores. My wife buys that stuff to feed to our kids. I refuse to eat it. But apparently his was good enough to launch the invention.

Unfortunately, Carver was not a model scientist in terms of his practice. For one thing, he didn't keep a lab book, and kept all his recipes in his head, refusing to write them down. That means almost none of his inventions can be repeated and are therefore lost to time. Pretty sad. He wouldn't write down lists of inventions, either, which is why there is confusion about exactly how many he came up with. He also claimed God gave him his ideas for plant products. He hated teaching and was very bad at administrative work, preferring to dedicate himself to research (which he was eventually able to do). He had his own 2-room lab, much to the jealousy of other faculty, and lived (get this!) on the second floor of a woman's dormitory, accessing his room via a fire escape. He partnered with presidents and captains of industry to develop a number of novel uses, but almost never sought to capitalize off of his endeavors, often giving his advice and expertise freely. No one can say exactly how many of our plant-derived products came from his inspiration.

Carver died at age 76 after a fall down some stairs. He willed his entire savings to Tuskegee University, founding a fund in his name. He has since become an icon of American culture, a symbol of early African-American triumph over slavery and discrimination, and a pioneer of American science.

"Most people search high and wide for the keys to success. If they only knew, the key to their dreams lie within." -- George Washington Carver

Thank You, Dr. King

Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. May we one day live in a land of unity and equality! We are getting there, slowly.

This day has been of great significance to me since I first studied Dr. King's achievements, as a freshman in college. He is one of my heroes. Each year at this time I pull out his famous speeches and read them. Here is a link to his "I have a dream" speech, with video:

http://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/mlkihaveadream.htm

It is a time for me, as a White man, to reflect on the importance of slavery in the building of America and the horrible toll it took on the Black population. That toll is still echoing today. I am ashamed to say that my family, generations back, owned a plantation in the South and capitalized on that slavery.

I am also the father of two African-American children.

I and my family are living King's dream of working toward a nation united in brotherhood, celebrating our cultural and racial origins while ending discrimination in all its forms. As King said in that speech: "I have a dream that one day . . . the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood." King's dream is not the reason we are an integrated family, but now we literally sit down at the same table together, every night.

It is MY dream that my children will grow to be as proud of their African-American heritage as I am and yet feel comfortable in a White-dominated culture. Our family is also integrated with other African-American and Latino members, so instilling that pride in our children should be easier than it might be for other families. Let us hope it is contagious, throughout our society and the world.

Thank you, Dr. King.