The Language(s) of Time

Time flies; it passes; it marches on. Time can be hard, ripe, rough or sharp. It can be saved, spent, managed.

I make dinner reservations ahead of time, and push back deadlines. I look forward to Christmas in New York. My teenaged years are over (woohoo!).

‘Time’ is the most common noun in English, and all of the various ways I talk about time feel…right. But other languages have different (and to me, peculiar) ways of describing the concept. In Indonesian, for example, verbs don’t have tenses: ‘I sit’ equals ‘I sat’ equals ‘I am going to sit’. In Aymara, a language spoken in the Andean highlands in South America, the past is said to be in front of you, and the future behind you. Mandarin speakers use vertical metaphors: earlier events are ‘up’ (shàng) whereas later events are ‘down’ (xià).

Do these sorts of linguistic variations reflect differences in the way we think?

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Old Weather & Citizen Science

Galaxy Zoo — the citizen science project with hundreds of thousands of citizens classifying galaxies, catching supernovae, mapping the moon, finding solar storms, and so on far into the night – has sprouted a new project called Old Weather.  The reason old weather is more interesting than, say, old socks, is that yesterday’s weather is grist for tomorrow’s climate model:  no climate model is any good without masses of data.   So some hardy soul scanned the Royal Navy’s logbooks of 238 ships — the day-to-day weather in the early part of the last century — put the scans up on oldweather.org, and you transcribe one page at a time:  neat entries, spidery handwriting, HMS Tarantula, 19th day of December, 1919, winds N, blue sky, 10:45 a.m., weighed and proceeded from Hong Mun heading for Canton – taking notes on all of it, next page, next day, same neat handwriting whose “4’s” look a little like “7’s,” and before you know it, you’re in, hook, line, and sinker.  So to speak. Continue reading

The Sound of Science

If you listen, you can hear them talking.  Sometimes the conversation is loud and clear.  In On the Heavens, Aristotle argues that the Earth has no motions.  It neither orbits the Sun nor turns on an axis.  Just under two thousand years later, Galileo upbraids him.  In Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems, he presents a fictional debate, entrusting the Copernican argument to the capable Salviati and consigning the Aristotelian to the credulous Simplicio.  When their discussion reaches the subject of the motions of the Earth, Simplicio triumphantly produces a copy of On the Heavens (“I keep it always in my pocket,” which, in Galileo-speak, suggests:  He would). Salviati then proceeds to demolish Aristotle’s reasoning by using his own words against him.

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Feeling Feverish? Big Brother Already Knows

Fail! Your face is too hot to proceed.

You feel lousy. Some old lady sneezed on you in the subway. Now you’re achy and tired and feverish. Face it, Bud. You’ve got the flu. Better just crawl back into bed.

What’s that? You have to fly to London? You’ve got an important meeting with a client? Well, I guess I can’t stop you. But someone else can. It’s the airport fever police. They spotted your hot head with their thermal scanner as you made your way into the airport. Continue reading

1 Volcano+1 Big Storm=35 Million Salmon

Nature certainly works in dark, mysterious ways. A few weeks ago, we marveled here at the seemingly miraculous return of  35 million sockeye salmon to Canada’s Fraser River, after many people feared that the run was nearing extinction.

As Canadians were rejoicing, however, fisheries scientists were frantically working their chalkboards, trying to figure out what on earth was going on. Now someone has come up with a theory. The greatest Fraser River run in nearly a century may have been due to two events:  the eruption of Kasatochi volcano in the Aleutian Islands in August 2008,  and the winds of a perfect storm.  Continue reading

Stars Like Flies

Globular Cluster M80

Scattered around the periphery of our galaxy, the Milky Way, are upwards of 150 odd creatures called globular clusters.  They’re little agglomerations of stars that are bound by gravity into a sphere and that inside it, are buzzing around like flies.  They’re odd because 1) most stars come in singles or pairs, and globulars have hundreds, maybe thousands, maybe millions of stars – and that quantification alone tells you how much astronomers know about them; and 2) most stars are relatively young; and globulars are so old they set a lower limit on the age of the universe, which after all, can’t be younger than its own stars.  What are they doing out there?  A famous astronomer told me, “We know zip, I think.”  Continue reading

Blue Light Special

It’s the end of October—a dark time, and not only because of Halloween ghouls. Today in New York City, we won’t see the sun until 7:19am, and we’ll have to say good-bye at 6:00pm. Each passing day will be distressingly shorter than the day before, until December 21, when the sun will set at 4:31pm, the pattern will reverse, and each passing day will give us a bit more time under the sun.

For the millions of people with seasonal affective disorder, a.k.a. SAD, spring couldn’t come soon enough. The depletion of light triggers bouts of depression—characterized by lethargy, lack of interest in regular activities, hopelessness and even suicidal thoughts—as well as oversleeping, carb-craving and weight gain.
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Ask Mr. Cosmology

Q:  What happened before the Big Bang?

Mr. Cosmology:  If I told you, God would have to kill you.

Q: What is time?

Mr. Cosmology:  Is 9:30.

Q:  I just bought a telescope.  Do you have any advice for a first-time sky watcher?

Mr. Cosmology:  What happens in Vega, stays in Vega.

Q:  How many stars are there in the universe?

Mr. Cosmology:  Count all the grains of sand on Earth.  When you’re done, I’ll tell you.

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