
Take two function generators, an old CRT oscilloscope, a couple of power and BNC cables, and look! Whirling, dancing lissajous figures!
Chunky knobs! Clicky buttons! Drifty outputs! Squiggly curves!
Discoveries in the Physics & Astronomy shop | Science, curiosities, and surprises
Take two function generators, an old CRT oscilloscope, a couple of power and BNC cables, and look! Whirling, dancing lissajous figures!
Chunky knobs! Clicky buttons! Drifty outputs! Squiggly curves!
Need a thing, but can’t get it in the right size, right shape, right odd set of dimensions? That’s one reason to keep a workshop in the basement. If we can possibly make it, we’ll certainly try.
Pictured: a custom optics breadboard, for a very specific apparatus, with many, many drilled, tapped, and cleaned 1/4″-20 mounting holes. It’s big, and shiny, and has a bright future ahead!
Probably with lasers or something. Lots of lasers around here.
No kidding. Bright red indicator to proceed with caution.
It’s July, and that means it’s the time of year for restocking on toys! Bouncy balls, suction cup blowdart guns, silicone poppers, the works.
This is all for advanced scientific education, mind you. Important stuff, building a better tomorrow, etc.
We’re all relieved to hear that. While the American bullfrog enjoys a large natural range throughout eastern North America, and are celebrated jumpers, they are not typically encountered at heights above the earth that one would consider “in orbit.”
Whatever it’s like to think like a frog, we can safely assume that the rocket launch and orbital microgravity experiences were weird by any frog standards.
Science: if we can learn something from sending a 1,200 lb. payload over Saskatchewan via (a very large) balloon, by golly we’re going to try.
An electronic buzzer buried inside a foam ball, on a long cable with a switch and handle at the end. Flick the switch, and a piercing 2,500 Hz signal begins. Whirled in a big circle around your own head, the tone persists. For everyone else in the room, it creates a cyclic Doppler shift, a repeating weeee-oooo, weeee-oooo that sticks in the brain even after it’s done, like when you see phosphene images behind your eyelids after catching a glimpse of something way too bright.
We can’t overstate the wonderful modifications to the original object, back in 2010, which added the cable and switch. Your bog-standard Doppler ball – available from several scientific apparatus purveyors – requires one to open up the ball, turn on the buzzer, then close it back up. Tossing it back and forth between students illustrates the concept.
Then, when you’ve had quite enough and just want it to stop, you have to pry it open and shut the whole thing off. (This vintage version, pre-mod, required full-on battery removal.) The Doppler ball: it teaches us all kinds of new lessons!
Camping. For science!
The enormous beige box is a “Basecamp Kitchen Kit,” in case you’re wondering. It’s half as heavy as it looks.
Summer is progressing quickly, and it won’t be long before it’s toy kit time once more, including this multicolored assortment of silicone poppers! Available in different colors and sizes, over time you learn which ones pop the best.
Marbled performs better than solid colors.
Pink is often the best. A good one can nearly slap the ceiling from bench height.
No certainty as to why. But they sure are fun!
When you need to keep things cold, you have options, depending on your temperature needs and what’s available. Carnot cycle refrigeration is handy, effective, and reversible when you need to supply heat (think a heat pump or household refrigerator). You can use the thermoelectric effect via a Peltier device, in which electric current through dissimilar materials causes heat energy to flow in one direction. Or you can just huck a bunch of cold stuff at your target and wait for thermal equilibrium.
Cool running water is remarkably effective in this case. Even colder: ice, though a slurry of ice and water is often faster because of the increased convection and heat transfer through the cold liquid. Sometimes that sizable dollop of energy required for phase transition is really handy! Salt/ice/water slurry gets you colder still, and it’s a great way to make ice cream in the backyard.
Colder still: dry ice, or solid carbon dioxide. (We’re now at the point where you really don’t want this stuff to get on your bare skin.) It has some limited cooling potential, as it sublimates directly to gas at atmospheric pressure, and so good contact and heat transfer can be slow. You can get it to liquid form – the correct cold temperature range and high pressure – which is how we make dry ice when we need it. If you need a suitable liquid for extra-cold chilling, you’re probably looking at liquid nitrogen.
At -77°C, it’s very cold. Your chilling rate becomes limited by the Leidenfrost effect – that thing where a layer of insulating gas forms between the hot and cold materials, thermally and spatially separating them. Same thing happens when you dip a wet finger into a vat of molten lead, or the slippery skitter of a water droplet across the surface of griddle heated just right for pancakes. But, still, cold. Very cold. We use it as a backup for a freezer that’s supposed to hang out at -80°C as long as the power’s on. The stuff inside can handle slightly “warmer” temperatures for the time it takes to repair a power outage.
If you need even colder? Really dedicated folks dial it up to 11 and use liquid helium. That’s a whopping -269°C, which sounds intense. Or, if you prefer, about 4 K. It gets used here at the University, just not in Physics. (Astronomers might study it, but at the safe distances used for telescopic observation.)
All of these extra-cold normally-gases need special handling and care, not only for the temperature concerns, but also for what happens when they warm up and expand and displace all of the breathable air around. (Bad.) We all have some sense of the too-much-carbon-dioxide/monoxide symptoms – sluggishness, blue lips, etc. – but those of us not trained as fighter pilots aren’t as readily aware of the distinct symptoms of too much nitrogen, not enough oxygen. If you are one of the lucky few, you get to undergo normobaric hypoxia training, which can lead to roughly 18 seconds earlier awareness of hypoxia, which sounds like an awful lot in a plane that can travel a third of kilometer in that period at Mach 1.
As for the the dangerous effects of breathing a sudden roomful of now-gaseous helium? We assume your final words are hilariously high-pitched.