Malt Lottery

CERN common room, 1993.

Tim Berners-Lee: Remember that time we invented the Internet?

Robert Cailliau: Yes, although we actually invented the World Wide Web which is different because -

Tim: Right okay I don’t care. I only bring it up because I’ve had an even better idea. I call it “The Intranet.”

Robert: What is it?

Tim: It’s just like the Internet, except only for work stuff. Workplace news and events, staff rotas, health and safety guidelines. Exciting, yeah?

Robert: It sounds quite dull.

Tim: Typical, that’s bluddy typical. I work my arse off all week on a new idea and you cannot wait a single second before shooting it down with your negativity rifle.

Robert: It’s just -

Tim: No, no, no. You’re right, as always! My ideas are horrible and stupid and so am I and I’m going to throw my plans in the bin and then stick my head in a proton beam. Plans. Bin. Head. Beam. Happy? ARE YOU HAPPY?

Tim bursts into tears and storms out. Robert follows. Al Gore enters and rummages through the bin. Tim and Robert re-enter and sneak up on Gore.

Tim: Seize him!

Robert wrestles Gore to the ground and puts him in a leglock.

Gore: The Intranet is mine! Finders-keepers!

Tim: Shush up, Gore. The Intranet isn’t real. Humanity would never accept the imposition of such a soul-eroding network. The Intranet was merely was a rouse, designed to help us capture you.

Gore: Damnation! Free me at once!

Tim: As soon as you promise to stop stealing my amazing ideas.

Robert: Our ideas.

Tim: Not now, Rob. Gore, what do you say?

Gore: (mumbles) I swear on almighty Ra I shall never steal any of your ideas ever again. Now unhand me, you Belgian brute! Your fingernails are digging into my ezcema!

Gore is set free.   

Gore: You have bested me on this occasion but be warned; when I am elected President I will take credit for all your ideas and everyone will believe me because I will be EL PRESIDENTE.

Tim: How can you be so sure you’ll be President?

Gore: I’m the most charismatic man in the world. It is inevitable.

Robert: It’s true, Tim. He’s the policy wonk with the hip-hop vibe, Tim. There will never be another like him, Tim. Tim, Tim. Timmy, Tim, Tim.

Tim: Inevitable? We’ll see about that. Throw him in the Intranet!

Robert grabs Gore’s finger and sticks it in a computer port. A flash of light and Gore has disappeared.

Gore: (tinny echo) Where am I?

Tim: Inside the intranet! It’s vortex of dullness will drain your charisma. You will soon be reduced to a staid shadow of your former self! Lunch?

Gore: (tinny echo) One block of Weetabix, tap water, three moon-dried raisins.

Tim: Not you, Gore. Rob?

Robert: Can’t move. 97% of brain engaged in pun creation. Me catch later up you will.

Tim exits. Ten minutes pass.

Gore: (tinny echo) Almost. Try a different letter.

Robert: Al Gorp?
 
Twenty minutes pass.

Robert: Ah! (clears throat) Adieu, Al Bore!

Robert backflips away.

Dear Feynzie,

What does the “X” in X-ray stand for?

- Aaron

Dear Aaron,

Xenophobic.

When two people of differing nationality interact with one another, a xenophobic ray is produced. Synchrotron facilities can create such powerful X-rays because they employ scientists from all over the world.

An interesting incident involving X-rays occurred during a meeting at Los Alamos. Bethe arrived late and sat down next to James Chadwick. A few minutes later I noticed that I could see inside everybody! Bethe had no bones! Chadwick was made entirely of bone! In Teller’s gall bladder there was a little goblin sitting at a control panel!

Dear Feynzie,

My older brother says the Large Hadron Collider is a secret global conspiracy designed to make black holes that will destroy the Earth! How scared should I be?

- Jenny

Dear Jenny,

Very! But not about black holes. What you really need to worry about is the giant anaconda they’re breeding down in the collider ring.

As for a conspiracy, your dummy of a brother is half-right. I’ll let you it on it. LHC stands for Lingberg Hovercraft Consortium. The particle physics thing is a front. The Lingbergs are using that juicy science funding to prop up their failing business. Trust me, they need the money. Lingberg hovercrafts are lousy!

Me and Freeman Dyson went halvsies on a sky blue Lingberg 450 Turbo back in ‘52. We were hovering out in Lake Tahoe when all of a sudden the engine blew up! We were stuck out there, just bobbing about. Pretty soon I was bored. To pass the time Free-D bet me that I couldn’t count up to one million in under five hundred thousand seconds. I lost by three seconds! Those mermaids are very distracting. As a forfeit I had to christen the next particle I thought up with the name ‘supersuavefunkyfreshfreeman-on.’

DON’T BE SCARED.

THE MORNING.

Question. Can I not just stay in bed?

6    Rise, fall asleep.

9    Rise, wash and address Powerful Headache! Tea. Contrive day’s business. Contrive to delay day’s business. Skip breakfast.

10   Work. Printing press jams. Tea.

11   Eat two breakfasts worth of biscuits.

NOON.

12   Attempt invention. Bifocal… stove. Lightning… stove. Tea.

1     Open letter. Draft reply. Throw draft away. Biscuits.

2    Struck with fatigue. Peruse medical book. Panic. Acceptance. Tea.

3    Stare at wall. Sigh. Stare outside. Sigh.

4    Press jams. Kick press. Sob. Call it a day.

EVENING.

Question. What’s wrong with me?

6    Leave things in their places. Undeserving of music, diversion or conversation. Examination of the day. Ugh.

9    Beer.

10   Beer.

11   Beer.

NIGHT.

12   Bed.

1     Cannot sleep. Tea.

2     Hear thunder. Glance at kite. Can’t be arsed.

Dear Feynzie,

I want to take my girlfriend out for a romantic moonlit picnic. Is this a good idea?

- Peter

Dear Peter,

A splendid idea! Get planning!

Wait.

We need to talk about moonboners. 

Petey, a moonboner is a natural thing. Last year over twelve million Americans reported a moonboner to a health professional.

Even so, your moonboner may spook your sweetheart. She might even ditch you. Good riddance to her! From there on out it’s just you, the full moon and your raging moonboner!

Together you will cross wild rivers and trek through rugged valleys! You will plunge into dark forests and conquer mighty mountains!

With the moon as your torch you are never in shadow!
With a moonboner as your compass you are never lost!

Lead on, moonboner, lead on!

- Feynzie

…I would preffer to…

prefer. Don’t sweat it. Everyone makes mistakes.

…we can acheive…

achieve. I before e, friend!

…The whether was wonderful, so sunny…

Looks good to me. Carry on.

…which suggests severe emnaylyssea…

Wow. You really mangled this one. I’m stumped. No spelling suggestions.

…and please vakkum the carpet…

You’re sure English is your first language? Sorry, I’m here to help, not to judge. vacuum.

…and please vakkum the carpet…

Ignoring me, eh? Fine, add to dictionary. On your head be it.

…the hill was very steep…

I think you mean sheep. Do I need a reason?

…the hill was very sheep…

Much better. Wait, what? You’re turning me off?

…we need to build a concensus…
…we need to build a consencus…
…we need to build a consenssus…

Hah! Look who’s come crawling back. It’s consensus. You would starve without me.

…Abarabaham Lincoln loved himself a nice, ripe banananana…

I hate you.

“An angel whose muscles developed no more power weight for weight than those of an eagle or a pigeon would require a breast projecting for about four feet to house the muscles engaged in working its wings, while to economize in weight, its legs would have to be reduced to mere stilts.”
- J. B. S. Haldane. On Being the Right Size.

“The two angels arrived at Sodom in the evening, and Lot was sitting in the gateway of the city. When he saw them, he got up to meet them and bowed down with his face to the ground.’”
- Genesis 19:1

Sodom Gateway

Angel #1: Greetings, Lot.

Lot: Whoa, angels! You fellas are built! (Looks down.) Ugh, what are those things? Are they legs?

Angel #1 bursts into tears, flies away.

Angel #2: Why, Lot? Why be a dick? When I get back up there I’m telling Him that you and your whole city are totally immoral! Hope you like brimstone on your toast!

Angel #2 flies away.

What should I call a scientist?

Scientists are commonly referred to as friends of Darwin, enemies of Ra, atom buddies, Feynman-fawners, Sagan-suckers and unicorn doubters.

Where do the scientists live?

In the Ivory Tower. Search for it in google maps. Find it? No. Conspiracy? Yes.

What happened before science communication?

Non-scientists would gather at the base of the tower and demand to be given some science. Scientists would oblige and drop science out the windows. Falling science often landed on the non-scientists, hurting their brittle, flaky heads.

How can I communicate science?

1) Enter the Ivory Tower. Climb to floor 271.83.
2) Find a scientist. Ask for some science. Avoid eye contact.
3) Collect the science. Turn and run. Do not look back.
4) Thinly slice the science.
5) Hand-feed the slices to the non-scientists.

Is science communication important?

Yes. Without science communication there would be no science.

Further reading

Ivory Cower: Defusing The Sci-Comm Bomb -
Communicatorial Power-Popularization In The Nest Of The Upright Layman.
Napier, B. R. (2006), London: Sinclair Hall.

So you think you’ve found something radioactive?

Ask yourself these questions before taking action.

1. Does it look radioactive?

2. Does it smell radioactive?

3. Does it sound radioactive?

4. Does it feel radioactive?

5. Does it taste radioactive?

If you answered ‘Yes’ to these questions, SEEK URGENT MEDICAL ATTENTION.

Published by the National Radiation Protection Authority.

My precious Cape Thompson,

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I’d like to detonate a single 200-kiloton bomb and four 20-kiloton bombs,
Underneath you.

(The fallout will be) Yours forever,
Eddy
________________________________________________________
[I’ve been reading The Firecracker Boys]

Mandy: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for welcoming us into your classroom today!

Ellie: We’re a team of superheroes! Our powers are based on exciting ideas from the wonderful world of physics!

Henry: So get ready for an amazing adventure! We just might learn a thing or two along the way!

Mandy: Let’s introduce ourselves! I’m Magnetic Mandy! Watch me levitate this metal disk!

Children: Oooh.

Henry: Hi! I’m Henry Heat! Watch me set this ten pound note alight!

Children: Ahhh.

Henry: The flames didn’t destroy it! Why not? I’ll let you in on the secret later!

Eric: Hi! I’m Entropy Eric! Watch me break this egg!

Children: …

Eric: We’ll never see that egg come back together again! That’s because nature tends towards disorder!

Children: …

Eric: Say, you look like a clever bunch! Maybe a more exact definition would help? How much statistics do you guys and gals know?

Teacher: They’re eight and nine year olds.

Eric: …

Teacher: So none.

Eric: Right… Ah! My power is linked to heat! Maybe Henry Heat will help me explain?

Henry: Oh no. You’re not dragging me down with you, Eric. I know my role. I burn. End of. Hey, who wants to see me burn stuff?

Children: We do!

Henry: How about I start with this stupid egg?

Children: Yay! Burn! Burn! Burn! Burn!

Eric: (Sigh.)

I still remember our first kiss. It was so hot. It burned my mouth. That’s why I’m writing this letter. I’ve been burned too many times.

Things might be different if I could see your lips without night vision goggles. I tried driving towards you in the hope that the light emitted by your lips would increase in frequency and become visible. Turns out my fixie is too slow to exploit the Doppler effect.

I can’t make this work. A vampire bat could. They can sense infrared thanks to the “leaf pits” located around their noses. Did you know that? I don’t have any leaf pits.

This is goodbye. I want you to embrace a new life. Find a nice, dank cave. Surround yourself with thousands of bats. The bats will make you happier than I ever could.

1701

Lord Halifax: Get your hands off my wife! Explain yourself!

Newton: Er… I recently discovered a new law of attraction. It applies only to Lady Halifax and I.

Lord Halifax: Nonsense!

Newton: It’s true. I have an equation and everything.

Lord Halifax: An equation? Why didn’t you say so? Do carry on!

1702

Lord Halifax: What do you think of my new safe?

Newton stuffs gold bars into his pockets.

Lord Halifax: …

Newton: I see you missed my most recent lecture. I demonstrated the powerful attraction acting between my body and precious metals.

Lord Halifax: Now see here, Newton, I won’t be taken for a fool.

Newton: I have an equation… (reaches for pocket)

Lord Halifax: My apologies. Go ahead.

1703

Lord Halifax: (groans) Newton… Over here… I am trapped beneath this pile of gold bullion. Attract the gold away from me before I am crushed!

Newton: I’m afraid I can’t. Turns out I made a slight mistake with that law. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Lady Halifax.

Lord Halifax: I am beginning to think your laws are nothing but balderdash!

Newton: I could always show you my corrected equation… (reaches for pocket)

Lord Halifax: Okay.

Newton: What, really?

Lord Halifax: Yes. I want to see it.

Newton shows paper to Halifax.

Lord Halifax: I don’t understand. There is no mathematics here. This is a sketch of the male member with a happy little face drawn on!

Newton runs away.