A Chess Puzzle, Part II: Ruminations

This is part II of my series of blog pieces on a mathematical chess problem. In part one I tried to keep the math to a minimum, but after looking back at the post I see that it may still be a bit too much, and in the next couple of posts the math is only going to get more dense, but there is not much I can do about it.

So for this post I decided to give you a breather, and talk a bit about what the point of all this is.

After digging through my phone I just realized that it has been eight months since I was in the doctor’s waiting room, staring up at the ceiling, and visualizing an infinite chess board with chess pieces sitting on it, none of which were under attack. I took a photo of the ceiling with my phone and included it in my previous post. The date was May 15, 2019.

That fact surprised me; I was sure it was only a few weeks ago that I started scribbling little chess positions on scraps of paper, making notes for a blog post or maybe an article in the American Mathematical Monthly. Gigi’s family will tell you I spent much of the Christmas holiday sitting in a chair, with scraps of paper filled with diagrams and chess boards and incomprehensible hieroglyphics.

What appears to be the case is that this question, of how to fit pawns or queens on an infinite board without attack, spun off numerous other questions and math problems, and some of them were tricky, and some led to questions that seemed difficult. And in the process of thinking about these problems I became lost in a sort of reverie, and lost track of time. Days turned to Weeks turned to months. Eventually I found easy ways to answer many of the problems, and later posts will show those results. But you should realize that it took many tries before I found what now seems to be the obvious approach.

One of the problems was hard enough that I felt that I would need to just leave it in the article is as a conjecture, and hope that somebody smarter than me would be able to solve it.

But just this past Sunday, while out on a training run for the Zion Half Marathon, I came up with a way to solve the problem, and within an hour after getting home I was able to write QED at the end of a proof. Now it too seems obvious, but even so might have made a good Putnam math problem.

In any case, here is the thing. There is a reason why there are all these math symbols and arrows. Each symbol has a precise meaning, and in order to solve a problem it is often the case that the hard part is figuring out how to state the problem in a clear and precise manner. In writing down the math, you are creating a machine, and once done the machine can do a lot of the heavy lifting.

And here is the other thing: why do I do this? Because, believe it or not, it’s fun.

Here’s another preview:

 

A Chess Puzzle, Part I: The Infinite Chess Board

A while ago I was in the waiting room of the doctor’s office, staring at the ceiling, and looking for something to keep myself amused before the appointment. (The visit was nothing serious, just wanting to update my vaccinations.)

Ceiling at doctor’s office

The ceiling was covered with those white acoustic panels, forming a very large colorless and seemingly infinite chess board. I stared at the tiles, trying to think up some kind of puzzle to keep me amused while waiting. I came up with this:

The Chess Density Problem

Suppose you have an infinite chessboard, and an infinite number of one of the six kinds of chess pieces (King, Queen, Rook, Bishop, Knight, and Pawn). What is the densest packing of “friendly” pieces you can have on that board?

Just asking the question raises more questions:

  • What do I mean by “infinite” ?
  • What do I mean by “densest” ?
  • What do I mean by “friendly” ?
  • And how would one prove such things?

So far I’ve spend a fair amount of time and scratch paper on this — quite a bit while sitting around with Gigi’s family for Christmas — and have some things to report. The first version of this post was very math-heavy. Now it is a bit lighter. You’re welcome.

Disclaimer

Friends who have suffered through games with me will tell you that I am terrible at playing chess, and spend far too long to come up with a bad move that in standard chess notation would probably be denoted “Nf3 Nc6??”. Not just Chess, but Go, Twixt, Bridge or other strategic games. In defense, I can only say that I am spending all of that time trying to solve the problem, based on the game-theoretic fact that a “best” move exists. The decision tree is so deep, however, that no computer yet exists that can explore it completely more than a few moves ahead.

Good chess players acquire skill through experience and study, making decisions with imperfect knowledge. They stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon of moves and can walk down trails blazed by others. I can only stand at the edge, frozen by the awesome infinitude of the depths. Then I fall in.

Anyway, this isn’t the organic chemistry of Chess, but the simpler math of atoms and fundamental particles, Boards and pieces. Moving on…

Density: A Simple Example

Here is a simple (finite) example of four Queens on a $4 \times 4$ board, where no Queen is attacking any other, either on rank, file, or either diagonal:

 

Four friendly Queens

So for the $4 \times 4$ board, with its 16 squares, you can only “pack” at most four queens, meaning the “density” (which I denote $\delta$) of Queens on this board is

$$\delta = 4/16 = 1/4$$

Is this the “best” we can do in this case? The answer is yes, for the simple reason that at most one Queen can be on each row (or they would not be friendly), and there are four rows.

What is Already Known

This “packing” puzzle is what’s known as a Mathematical Chess Problem, and falls in the category of “recreational mathematics”. That is, mathematics done for amusement rather than “professional” work on “serious” problems. It should be noted, however, that often these problems lead to questions which are actually “deep” and lead to more important work.

In any case, from the literature, the task of arranging “friendly” chess pieces is called an Independence Problem (or an “Unguard” problem), and a chess position in which all of the pieces are friendly is called “Unguarded”. If an unguarded position is the “best” we can do (ie, there is no unguarded position with more pieces), we will call it maximally unguarded.

So, for example, on the standard $8 \times 8$ chessboard, here are examples of how to arrange “friendly” Pawns, Knights and Kings:

32 Friendly Pawns

32 Friendly Knights

16 Friendly Kings

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We will show (later) that these are “maximally unguarded” positions, and so the density of these pieces on the standard 8-board are 1/2, 1/2, and 1/4, respectively.

And here is how to arrange the remaining three “friendly” pieces, the Rooks, Bishops and Queens:

8 Friendly Rooks

14 Friendly Bishops

8 Friendly Queens

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These last three are maximally unguarded positions, and so the density for these three pieces on the standard board are 1/8, 7/32, and 1/8, respectively.

To see this in the case of the Rooks and the Queens, we can use the same argument as we did above with the Queens on the 4-board, by noting that there are exactly 8 rows and only one Rook or Queen can be on any row.

For the 14 Bishops, you can make a similar argument, by noting two things:

  1. There are exactly 15 diagonals in one direction (shown below in blue), and
  2. For each diagonal numbered 1 and 15, there is only one square available for placing a Bishop, and those two squares are “hostile” along the red diagonal, so you can only choose one.

Fifteen Bishop Diagonals

We have separated out the pieces into these two sets of three, because each set have their own unique characteristics, unlike the other set; and the differences in density become more pronounced as the size of the boards becomes larger and becomes infinite. Not only that, but the kind of “density” has to be defined differently, and even the size of the “infinite” board becomes important; as we’ll see, some chess boards are more infinite than others.

Chess Boards: Finite and Infinite

All of the “chess boards” we will be working with will be two-dimensional, and each “square” on which a chess piece can be placed can be indicated by a pair of numbers $(x,y)$, where $x$ and $y$ are coordinates in some set $A$, which we will call the Address space. A chess board that uses coordinates in Address space $A$ will be denoted $B_A$. Mathematically, the board $B_A$ can be identified with the Cartesian product $A \times A$.

For example, the squares of our standard $8 \times 8$ chess board can be specified using $A = \{0,1,2,3,4,5,6,7\}$. The set of integers from 0 to 7 is sometimes denoted $\mathbb{Z}_8$, and so the standard chess board is $B_{\mathbb{Z}_8}$.  To make life simple(r), we will also call this board $B_8$, or simply the “8-Board”, and similarly an $n \times n$ board (where n is an integer) will be called the “n-Board”, or $B_n$.

Here for example is the 5-board $B_5 = B_{\mathbb{Z}_5}$:

The 5-Board

Okay, so far so good (you still with me, here?). Now the point of all this mathematical gobbledegook (a scientific term), is that I wanted to look at the “Unguarded” chess problem on an infinite chess board, meaning that I want to use for a “coordinate space” $A$ an infinite set. The first one that comes to mind is the set of whole numbers, ie

$$\mathbb{W} = \{0,1,2,. . .\}$$

And so we can define our first infinite chess board as $B_{\mathbb{W}}$, consisting of all $(x,y)$ where $x$ and $y$ are non-negative integers.

Intuitively, the board can be visualized like this:

The ω-Board

This picture looks a lot like the ceiling at my doctor’s office, which is what started this whole thing.

Now the “size” (cardinality) of the whole numbers is “infinite”, but the specific mathematical name for this “infinite” value is $\aleph_0$ (pronounced aleph-null). Unlike the conventional symbol for infinity ($\infty$), $\aleph_0$ has a more precise meaning, and it refers only to “countably” infinite sets, ie, those which you can count with the integers 1,2,3, etc. A related infinite “ordinal” number is called $\omega$ (small omega), and with some “abuse of notation” we will refer to $B_{\mathbb{W}}$ as $B_{\mathbb{\omega}}$, or simply the $\omega\text{-Board}$.

Chess Boards: Infinity and Beyond

There are many other ways to define infinite boards, but for now the only other board we will look at uses as its coordinate space the closed unit interval on the real line, that is,

$$I = \{ x \in \mathbb{R}: 0 \le x \le 1 \}$$

The board $B_I$ can be visualized as the unit square, including every single point on the boundary and in the interior as a distinct “square” on which you could place a chess piece:

The c-Board

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The size of the set of real numbers in $I$ is a transfinite number which is infinitely larger than $\aleph_0$, and is called simply $c$, the infinity of the continuum. If we embrace “The Continuum Hypothesis“, this number c can be identified as $\aleph_1$, the next largest infinity. We shall therefore also call $B_I$ the c-Board, or $B_c$. The number of “squares” on $B_c$, unlike the $\omega\text{-Board}$, is uncountably infinite.

Sneak Preview

The “density” results for each infinite board and piece will be shown (in later posts) to be as follows.
The pieces are in order of their decreasing (2d or fractal) density, and thus their increasing “power”:

$$\omega\text{-Board}$$

Piece Board 2d-Density Fractal Dimension 1d-Density (**)
Pawn $B_\omega$ 1/2 2 *
Knight $B_\omega$ 1/2 2 *
King $B_\omega$ 1/4 2 *
Rook $B_\omega$ 0 * *
Bishop $B_\omega$ 0 * *
Queen $B_\omega$ 0 * *

$$c\text{-Board}$$

Piece Board 2d-Density Fractal Dimension 1d-Density (**)
Pawn $B_c$ * * *
Knight $B_c$ * * *
King $B_c$ * * *
Bishop $B_c$ 0 1 $1/2$
Rook $B_c$ 0 1 $1/\sqrt 2$
Queen $B_c$ 0 1 $1/\sqrt 2$

(*) Not Defined for this piece on this board.

(**) 1d-Density = 1 / (Hausdorf Content)

As you can see from the two tables, there is something very different between the two groups of pieces, and how they “pack” on those infinite boards. In following posts, I will try to explain what the differences are, what a Fractal Dimension is, and what other mathematical issues and questions arise in the process.

 

 

 

 

Longitude Part I: The Geometry of a Sextant

The Purchase

As I was only wanting to acquire a sextant for our book club discussion on Dava Sobel’s book “Longitude” (see below), I didn’t want to spend much money, and so put down $15 on Amazon for the brass sextant you see pictured above. I was hoping that the thing would be functional enough that I could demonstrate its usage, but found that not to be the case, as-is. I suspect that this object I bought was not so much a sextant, as a knock-off of a copy of a replica of a sculpture of an artist’s rendition of a sextant. I have now formed a vague notion that this item was produced in a back-alley of a run down area of Calcutta or Shanghai, by a person with little education but some skill in metalworking, casting, and possibly jewelry. Whether they have ever been on a boat, or could pick out the star Regulus on a clear night (city lights permitting), the question remains open.

One way or another, the good news is that after realizing this object was not functional, in the process of making it so I found that I learned a lot more about sextants that I ever would have, had I bought a truly functional precision instrument (for $200 more) in the first place.

So let’s get to work.

The Sextant

Though they look complicated, the simple idea behind a sextant (or quadrant, octant etc) is just to measure the angle between two things in the sky, either two bodies (like the moon and Regulus), or between one body (Polaris or the sun) and the horizon. This is easy to do on land, but at sea with everything moving it is difficult.

The clever idea (which it appears Newton had first) is to use two mirrors (actually, one and a half), in such a way that the two objects you are measuring can be brought “next” to each other optically by adjusting one of the mirrors. Once done, it is then just a matter of precisely measuring the angle the movable mirror was rotated. This nice diagram below (gleefully stolen from Wikipedia) shows how to get the (elevation) angle of the sun above the horizon:

 

Using sextant swing

Using the sextant and swing (From Wikipedia)

While we are on the topic, we should show the proper names of all the main components of the sextant:

The main elements are the frame, which is the 60 degree wedge that forms the base of the sextant. There is usually a handle on the other side of the frame so you can hold it. Along the outside of the frame is the arc, which has degree markings, starting from zero on the right. The frame also holds the fixed “horizon mirror“, which is only half-mirror, half clear glass. The movable arm is the index bar, which has a pointer (the index) that points to the angle on the arc. The “index mirror” is fixed to the index arm, and is a full mirror that rotates on a pivot and brings the second object into view. The shade glasses are deployed for shooting the sun, and prevent you from going blind. The drum allows you to do fine adjustment of the index arm, which whose angle on the arc you can see with the magnifying glass. Finally, the telescope is a tiny low-powered telescope which allows you to get a good look at the objects whose angle you are measuring.

Here is an oblique view of my sextant, lying on its side. Ordinarily the geared arc is pointing down toward the earth. You can see that the horizon mirror is clear on the left side, and mirrored only on the right. So when you hold the sextant with the the telescope pointing to the horizon, the left side is looking straight ahead, at the horizon. Meanwhile, the right side is reflecting light from the index mirror, which is coming in at some angle above the horizon (indicated by the index arm).

Here for example is the sextant with the index arm angle set to zero. This setting should allow the light from the horizon to bounce off the two mirrors and come into the little telescope at zero degrees. In other words, the view in both the left and right half of the horizon mirror should match.

The Geometry

The first geometrical question to address is, how does changing the angle θ of the index arm affect the angle β of the light coming in from the index mirror? Intuition suggests that since there are two mirrors, the angle will be doubled. Indeed, the rule is:

The angles on the arc of the frame should be marked like a protractor, but with the angular values doubled.

Of course (for me) this requires proof. We will need to draw a diagram:

The lines in blue show the path of light coming in along line CO, reflecting off the index mirror at O, continuing along line OA, and then reflecting off the horizon mirror at A, finishing along AB to the telescope. Let’s assume the index mirror makes an angle of θ with the line OB, and so the angle between the ray of light OA with the mirror  at O must be 60°-θ. Now light bounces off of mirrors at the same angle they came in, so the incoming ray of light CO must also form the angle COE which is equal to 60°-θ. Finally, the index mirror forms an angle EOD with the horizontal line OD of 60° + θ, meaning that the residual angle β we seek is the angle EOD minus EOC, that is,

β = EOD – EOC =  (60° + θ) – (60° – θ) = 2θ

so β = 2θ. That is, the angles marked on the arc, in order to properly represent the incoming angle β of light on the index mirror, must be a value of exactly twice the actual angle formed by the index arm at that point from the zero mark.

The Reformation

It didn’t take long for me to discover that my shiny new $15 sextant was not really functional as-is. It needed work. So the first thing I did of course (as is my nature) was to take the whole darn thing apart.

Issue #1: Frame

The largest and most important component is the Frame — the large flat bit with the round gear-teeth around the edge. This serves as the “optical bench” upon which all the components are mounted. In addition, the gearing must be uniform, and the markings on the Arc calibrated, so that precise angular measurements can be made.

The first problem was that the frame was not flat. As many of the components are mirrors which must be aligned in 3 dimensions, the subtle bends in the frame would throw off any measurement. With all the pieces now removed, I was able to flatten out the frame.

The second problem was that the markings on the arc were clearly not precise. One clue may be found in the numbers, which on close inspection seem to have been crudely carved in by hand with a Dremel or similar tool. This is not a problem that can be resolved, short of recasting the whole thing.

Issue #2: The Index Mirror

The first thing to note about the correctly made sextants in the previous section is that the index mirror is not aligned with the axis of the index arm, but slightly off, about 15 degrees. The one I got by comparison was not like that, and its mirror was lined up exactly with the index arm like this:

It turns out that this is wrong, or at least not very good or practical design. In fact, what it should look like is this:

 

Now the actual angle does not need to be 15°, but should be around there. The rule here is a bit more heuristic and goes like this:

The index mirror should not be in line with the index arm, but offset by an amount greater than zero but less than 30°. 15° is close to ideal.

So what’s going on here? This is a mixture of mathematics and practical engineering.

Let’s parameterize this situation, and define a sextant whose index mirror is off-axis by an angle of δ a δ-Sextant. By this definition, what I bought is a 0°-Sextant, while the ones in the cartoon diagrams appear to be 15°-Sextants.

Okay, so what is so bad about my 0°-Sextant? Well, for looking at objects near the horizon (ie, where the index arm is near 0°), there is nothing really wrong at all and it works fine. I’m not familiar with the original design considerations, but two big factors have to do with the positioning of the horizon mirror, and the light-gathering ability of the index mirror. So let’s consider the horizon mirror first. Here is the geometry of the general δ-Sextant, with the index arm set at zero (so we are looking at the horizon):

 

 Now by the same argument as before, the successive reflections of the ray of light coming in from the horizon form an angle of 60° -2δ away from the horizontal. So in order to the light to drop down a height of h (so that it can reach the telescope), the horizon mirror must be set back by h*cot(60° -2δ) from the center of the sextant. As we increase δ from 0 to 30 the cotangent approaches infinity, making the mirror position increasingly impractical.

Therefore, taking a mid-point value of δ=15° would put the mirror in a practical location, much less than infinity. The mirror was mounted on the index arm with two small screws. I drilled two new holes for the screws and used a tap-and-die kit to thread the holes for the screws. The new mount for the mirror brought it close to the required 15 degree orientation.

Issue #3: Index Gear “Drum”

The index gear “drum” as depicted in the good diagram is a very precise worm-and-gear arrangement, with a “micrometer” fine-tuning for getting fractional degree measurements.

The knob is supposed to engage the gear teeth in the frame, and rotate the movable index arm (on which the index mirror is mounted). However, instead of using a worm-and-gear mechanism, it has a “direct drive”, in which the knob turns a wheel gear that meshes with the frame.

On close inspection, it was found that this gear must have been made by drilling out each of the gear teeth, and manually filing them down. The width and separation of the teeth have a visibly discernable variation, of about 5% or so. This bit is of the “juggling dog” variety, which is to say the amazing thing is not that it does its job well, but that it does it at all. Indeed, this gear tended to jam up at certain parts of the arc, and so required some additional filing just to get it to juggle at all.

Issue #4: Vernier Scale

In place of the high-precision worm-gear/micrometer, this sextant uses a “Vernier Scale“, which is admittedly a very clever device that was invented in ancient China (but named after French mathematician Pierre Vernier) to extract more precision out of otherwise crude devices. The general idea is to have a second scale that is just slightly smaller (9/10ths) than the base scale. This makes the smaller scale lines rarely line up with the base scale, except at one marking, which indicates how many tenths of a marking need to be added to the base reading:

Vernier Scale (wikipedia)

Here is what our vernier scale looks like (bolted to the index arm):

There is just one problem with our Vernier. The scale is not 9/10’s of the base, but 10/10ths:
In other words, as a Vernier scale, it is totally useless. It is most likely that the poor starving artisan in Bangalore was just told to copy another copy and assumed the scales were supposed to match. There is no way to fix this. But as the gears that drive the index arm along the arc are themselves only accurate to about 5%, the additional precision that would be provided by the Vernier is pointless. At least it has a 0 degree line, with which I can line up the 0 on the arc and calibrate zero-degree separations.

Issue #5: Sun Filters

While sextants are often used at night to measure distances between stars, they are also used to calculate the Sun’s altitude above the horizon (at noon for example). For this reason, sextants come with sun filters to prevent injury to the eye. The sun filters on this sextant are faintly colored glass, and should NEVER be used for any reason. Hopefully, nobody ever has used them. They are, like the rest of the sextant, purely decorative. The only fix is to replace with actual solar filters, or remove them altogether.

Issue #6: Telescope

To its credit, the telescope is not really a problem. It even appears to have a very slight magnification, and is properly aligned with the fixed horizon mirror.

Issue #7: The horizon mirror

The horizon mirror, ideally, is split down the middle, with only the right half mirrored and the left half transparent, allowing the direct forward view to come through. Unfortunately, the mirror was glued in slightly at an angle, so that the vertical line between the mirrored and transparent sides is tilted by about 5 degrees. I did not want to risk breaking the mirror so left it alone. It was also offset vertically from the index mirror, and so added spacers to raise it up a bit.

Issue #8: The Handle and Horizon bars

The back of the sextant has a vertically oriented handle, along with two posts which when aligned should match the horizon (when computing the sun’s altitude):

The vertical handle was not exactly vertical, and so I inserted a spacer to adjust the alignment:

Issue #9: Magnifying lens

The magnifying lens, intended to magnify the vernier and base scales for easy reading of the angle, doesn’t magnify. It appears to be an optically flat piece of glass, identical to the “sun filters”. I removed it as it only gets in the way.

Conclusion

This was a pretty but functionally useless toy when it arrived. After two weeks and a number of visits to Ace Hardware, it was almost serviceable enough to calculate separations to about 1 degree. I would not depend on it to save my life.

 

The Planet Uranus in Opposition

Note: I hope to update this piece when I catch Uranus at the turning point, August 2018. As of right now we are in thunderstorms, so it may take a while.

Okay Let’s Cut to the Chase

Here is an animated GIF of two astrophotographs I took of the planet Uranus from my house in Virgin, Utah. The first one was taken on October 24, 2017 around 2:00 am, the next on November 19,2017 at 10pm (click on the image for full-size animated versions). See if you can spot Uranus. In the course of that month it has moved a bit, near the center of the image, so you should be able to see a blue-green dot jumping back and forth.

One-month TIme-lapse of Uranus. (Nikon D-5000, F9 3 minute exposure, equatorial mount)

If you still can’t catch it, here is an annotated versions, with labels and stuff (again, click on the images for the full screen version):

In addition to the dated labels, I have put in some graphics showing the constellation Pisces, as well as a chart, showing where computer models say Uranus should be in that part of the sky, for various dates between 2016 and 2020. I had to pull all of these other things in, just to convince myself that I really caught the planet, and not just a random earth satellite or other transient object.

It has taken me quite a bit of work to get to this final product, of which I am quite proud, and happy that it came out so cleanly, riding exactly along those predicted lines. In August of 2018 (now) I hope to capture that endpoint of maximum extent. The rest of this blog piece is the retelling of the story of this image, along with the occasional digressions into the geometry of the whole thing.

About the Planet Uranus

Uranus (Wikipedia) Voyager II photo 1986

Here is a picture of the planet Uranus, taken by the Voyager II spacecraft in 1986.

By the time I came to work at the NASA Jet Propulsion labs in ’87 the Voyager II probe had already passed by Uranus and was approaching Neptune, so I never got a chance to see these “live” images coming in. It’s not much to look at, and is best described as a large ice ball (unlike Saturn or Jupiter which are mostly gaseous). Even with a really good earthbound 8″ telescope, you’re not going to see much more than a fuzzy dot.

Though it had been seen before (even in ancient times), the object was not identified as a planet until it was observed and reported by William Herschel in 1781, who thought it might be a comet. However, after reporting it to the Astronomer Royal Nevil Maskelyne (who figures prominently in the quest to measure Longitude), Maskelyne concluded that it was probably a planet.

Other than its name (being the only one in the solar system based on the original Greek gods, and not the later Latin names of the Roman gods), Uranus is notable for having its rotational axis nearly horizontal to the orbital plane, so that for half the Uranian year (about 45 earth years) the “north” pole is in perpetual day, and the other half the year is perpetual night.

Uranus in Opposition

What started all this for me was the announcement last month that the planet Uranus was in what they call “opposition“, meaning that it was on the opposite side of the celestial sphere (as seen from Earth) as the Sun. From the Sun’s perspective, this means that the Earth and Uranus are on the same side of the Sun, and typically on closest approach to each other:

Planetary Opposition (source: Wikipedia)

The news in social media suggested that it would be so close that “it could be seen with the naked eye.” That sounded like hogwash to me, as there have been a lot of viral bogus memes around about being able to see things like the rings of Saturn and such.

Having now tracked down the planet, I can attest that — technically — it would be possible for a young person with excellent sharp eyesight to see the planet Uranus without binoculars … if they knew exactly where to look, and gazed at it out of the corner of their eye, and in a place (like where I live) with extremely dark skies and no cities nearby, but only on a cool clear night. But otherwise, forget about it.

The Plan

Barn Door Equatorial Mount

Anyway, with the announcement of the opposition of Uranus in October I decided that this was a good opportunity to do some amateur astronomy and try to capture Uranus with some very low-tech equipment, which is a Nikon D-5000 camera mounted on a crude “Barn Door” equatorial mount. Using this mount, I can take long-exposures of up to 15 or 20 minutes, without smearing of the stars due to earth’s rotation.

The Barn Door mount is a clever contraption which anybody can build with $20 of parts from Ace Hardware or Walmart. The idea is simple, you just have two boards attached with a hinge, one board fixed to a tripod. You line up the hinge with Polaris (the north start), and mount the camera to the board that moves.

But before setting up my rig, I first had to track down the current position of the planet, which was said to be somewhere inside the constellation Pisces (the fish). Credit here must be given to Martin J Powell’s website NakedEyePlanets.com,  which has this great chart of the path of Uranus:

Navigating the Stars

For anyone interested in astronomy, one way to begin is to learn how to find your way around the sky visible to the naked eye, without aid of telescopes and such. To do this, you need to learn some old-school tricks, in the form of stories. For example, to find Polaris, you first find the Big Dipper (Ursa Major) and follow the line traced by two of the stars in the “pan” of the dipper.

Rant: With the latest GPS-enabled telescopes, it is far too easy to track down stars, planets and other bodies. These days, all you need to do is type in the name of the object (e.g. Uranus), and the telescope’s computer will use its GPS to determine where the telescope itself is located, as well as the current date/time, and then guide the telescope to the place in the sky where the object may be found. Or you can use one of the “Planets” apps on smart phones, which you can hold up in the sky and see what you are looking at.

 

 

Relativity, Simplified. Really.

I’ll make this (mercifully) short.

Consider this statement, which I call Ω:

Everything travels through the Cosmos at exactly the speed of light.

Ω is Relativity. That’s it. Really, it is. And Ω is true not only for Special Relativity, but the General one too. All you have to know is that the “Cosmos” means both space and time.

If you were to ask somebody what Relativity says, they would probably say something like “everything is relative.” The problem with that is, it’s not precise. In fact, it’s not even true. Some things in physics (and the world) are thought to be absolute. So I’ve been trying to come up with a good version of Relativity that can be justified mathematically, and that little box is what I came up with. If you understand what each word means exactly, everything follows from this statement, and if you like you can stop reading now and get on with life. Because that really is what relativity says.

The rest of this short post is just me rambling about why I like it. In a later post I’ll defend it. Also, here is a cool picture of a galaxy for no reason. But it’s cool (*).

Why I like This Version of Relativity

One of the things I like about this version (Ω) is that it is simple and precise, sounds a little strange — but just enough strange to be right — and answers immediately a number of other questions people ask about relativity, matter, speeds etc. For example:

Q: Will we ever be able to go faster than light?

A: NO. The reason you can’t go faster than the speed of light is that you can’t go any slower either. Nothing in the universe can go any speed in spacetime but c, the speed of light. The only thing you can ever change is the direction in space-time that you are going.

Q: Why does Relativity say that when you go faster, time slows down?

A: Because you are always going exactly at the speed c, so if you go faster in the space directions, you have to go slower in the time direction so it still adds up to exactly c.

See?  Details later, film (and math) at 11. But really, it is true. Ask a physicist. He’ll scratch his head, then say yeah, that works, then go have a beer.

(*) Photo: Centaurus A, (Image Credit: X-ray: NASA/CXC/CfA/R.Kraft et al.; Submillimeter: MPIfR/ESO/APEX/A.Weiss et al.; Optical: ESO/WFI)