Rafi Z. Vered, Yaakov Shaked, Yelena Ben-Or, Michael Rosenbluh, and Avi Pe’er
Phys. Rev. Lett. 114, 063902 – Published 10 February 2015
A key question of quantum optics is how nonclassical biphoton correlations at low power evolve into classical coherence at high power. Direct observation of the crossover from quantum to classical behavior is desirable, but difficult due to the lack of adequate experimental techniques that cover the ultrawide dynamic range in photon flux from the single photon regime to the classical level. We investigate biphoton correlations within the spectrum of light generated by broadband four-wave mixing over a large dynamic range of ∼80 dB in photon flux across the classical-to-quantum transition using a two-photon interference effect that distinguishes between classical and quantum behavior. We explore the quantum-classical nature of the light by observing the interference contrast dependence on internal loss and demonstrate quantum collapse and revival of the interference when the four-wave mixing gain in the fiber becomes imaginary.
P.S. No testing of my understanding is allowed; ) I won't be setting this up for a while.
In an unusual move, The Wichita Eagle has not posted on its website (or, perhaps, removed the posting) of this morning's headline story. I can see why. They are offering for sale a poster of the front page of this morning's edition. This is the poster ad.
Slashdot.orgpointed out an article in The Wall Street Journalconcerning "proper English". Goodness knows that I have aired my pet peeves (see, Stu, I can spell it "properly", on occasion!) concerning ungrammatical constructs. (I was venting to Hunky Husband, just this morning, about - among other things - improper formation of plurals in a plan another volunteer had written concerning training. She consistently used "ABC's" - not the real letters - as a plural instead of as a possessive.)
On occasion, I remind myself that the language is whatever people say it is...determined by how the language is actually used. Below is the opening paragraph of The Journal's article.
Never mind the grammar scolds. If people say it, it’s the right way to speak [sic]
by Oliver Kamm
March 13, 2015 10:51 a.m. ET
It’s a perpetual lament: The purity of the English language is under assault. These days we are told that our ever-texting teenagers can’t express themselves in grammatical sentences. The media delight in publicizing ostensibly incorrect usage. A few weeks ago, pundits and columnists lauded a Wikipedia editor in San Jose, Calif., who had rooted out and changed no fewer than 47,000 instances where contributors to the online encyclopedia had written “comprised of” rather than “composed of.” Does anyone doubt that our mother tongue is in deep decline?
To read the rest, please click on the title of The Journal's article.
This song came up on my mp3 flash drive during my drive home from Kansas City MO last evening. It had been a few years since I had heard it, but I found that I could sing along. Not bad for someone who is not a Glenn Campbell fan, eh? (My singing isn't that great; but, singing in the car is like singing in the shower - no one seems to mind, when I'm alone!)
If you enjoy fiddling, you might like this version. (I can only take "so much" fiddling. As a youth, I played the same violin that my father had taught himself to play; but, I never got beyond 2nd chair 1st violin in our high school band, and quit playing after 8th grade. Yes, 8th grade was in the high school building and we were integrated with grades 9-12 in some classes.)
I'll close with the version of Bonaparte's Retreat that I actually recall - from my childhood (I was 10 when this recording came out) - by the inimitable Ms Kay Starr!
Re: Singing in the car
WIWAK, there being no radios in most vehicles, our family sang on long trips. It's a practice of which Hunky Husband has no understanding. (Unfortunately, my parents grooved on Country & Western music so I learned only that type of song!!!! Want to hear Strawberry Roan or Barbara Allen? I didn't think so.) I've never heard HH sing, and I recall his not liking when his mother or sisters (one of whom later performed in operas - most memorable being Carmen) sang around the house. HH's father sang in a Barbershop Quartet for several years, in his 80s and early 90s. Similar to Leonard's not being allowed to whistle in his own home, I am not allowed to sing or whistle in my own home - unless I am alone.
In playing The Strawberry Roan video by Marty Robbins, I was treated to an ad for Three Muskateers®. If you tried the link and got a different ad, you may (or may not!) enjoy the opportunity to view it, alone.
No, I'm not selling candy bars and I'm not getting paid.
Stu has a posting, César Manrique, in which he mentions Joan Miró, the muralist known for his "bird people". As happens, Wichita State University owns a Miró that is in process of being restored. This photo (below) is from the WSU website. The text preceding (and after) the photo is taken from that website.
The Ulrich Museum of Art, which opened in 1975 as part of the McKnight Art Center, is recognized by Joan Miro's landmark glass and marble mosaic, Personnages Oiseaux (Bird People), on the south facade. The museum's galleries show exhibits from the University's collection which features contemporary art, plus traveling exhibits.
The museum is named for Edwin A. Ulrich, a Hyde Park, N.Y., businessman who donated his collection of more than 300 works by Frederick Judd Waugh and established an endowment to support the museum. The Ulrich is also internationally known for its Martin H. Bush Outdoor Sculpture Collection, named one of the Top 10 campus art collections by Public Art Review magazine.
Conservation of museum's signature Miró mural is the number one priority for the Ulrich Museum collection. A restoration project was launched on September 27, 2011, was preceded by a two-and-a-half-year exhaustive research study of the mural and a pilot treatment of three panels. The re-installation of the mosaic on the Ulrich Museum facade will take place in fall 2016.
Posted by Soulskillon Tuesday March 03, 2015 @05:11PM from the surf's-up dept.
sciencehabit writes: A patch of woodland just north of Livingston, Louisiana, population 1893, isn't the first place you'd go looking for a breakthrough in physics. Yet it is here that physicists may fulfill perhaps the most spectacular prediction of Albert Einstein's theory of gravity, or general relativity. Structures here house the Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory (LIGO), an ultrasensitive instrument that may soon detect ripples in space and time set off when neutron stars or black holes merge. Einstein himself predicted the existence of such gravitational waves nearly a century ago. But only now is the quest to detect them coming to a culmination. Physicists are finishing a $205 million rebuild of the detectors, known as Advanced LIGO, which should make them 10 times more sensitive and, they say, virtually ensure a detection.
We don't have a lot of snow; but, it's enough for me to have ice cream! With Hunky Husband's bummed-up wrist and my bummed-up shoulder, we are letting a couple of industrious teen-agers do the snow shoveling for us. They are out there working on it and, when they finish, will have earned themselves $25 to split. (Well, actually, I have the split already at hand.)
About three years ago, it dawned on me that a city that boasted an ice hockey team, must have an ice skating rink; so, I started polling the people at the gym and all of my friends to find someone to go skating with me. Please don't think of Sonia Hennie when I mention that I used to ice skate: I probably spent a couple of dozen Saturdays in 1949-1952 figuring out how to stand up on skates and motate myself around the rink. My parents and those of the slightly younger girl who lived across the street dug up enough money to treat us to those skating sessions. While the parents dug up enough money for us to take baton twirling lessons (the neighbor and her cousin took lessons for a year while I persevered for three years), there was never any thought of our taking skating lessons. I think I even skated with high school friends on a frozen lake in Swope Park during the early 1950s.
When we were in Seattle (1965-1966), I recall taking Bogie and Dudette ice skating. Again, there were no lessons involved, but we had a good time!
In 1978-1981, I went so far as to buy a pair of ice skates so that I could skate on the frozen ponds and west-side athletic field parking lot in Wichita. The city flooded the parking lot to provide recreational skating when temperatures were low enough, and I remember skating there with one or the other daughter and a friend from work. When I moved to Florida in 1981, it signaled the end to ice skating but I did go roller skating with the daughters of a couple of men with whom I worked. Then there was a long "dry" spell. From1982 until recently I was never on skates of any description.
When the bright idea occurred to me that Wichita had, at some point in time, built an ice rink, I cast about for co-conspirators with whom to get back into skating. Finally, a few weeks ago, I decided that I was going to die of old age before I found anyone. I launched off on my own.
Long story too-late shortened: About 10 days ago, I went skating for the first time since 1981 - using rental skates, since I had given away my ice skates many years ago. Having learned that, at my age I must approach physical "feats" slowly, I only attempted one circuit of the ice on my first time out - hand firmly resting on the side ledge the whole circuit, wobbling along and encouraged by a 20s or 30s-something woman who took me under her wing (Sabra). Second time out, I let go of the side ledge for the third circuit, stopping after six. Third time out, I kept to the ledge for the first circuit or two, but "skated" (that means concentrating on staying upright) for a total of nearly 30 minutes. Today I was aiming for 40 minutes. I didn't quite make it, taking a small fall during the first circuit and never quite feeling as stable on the skates as I had on the previous outing.
At about the 23-minute mark, I got distracted by a tiny little girl (maybe 3 years old) whom I was passing and the next thing I know I'm on my back!!! Everyone at the rink gathered around the ridiculous old woman, quite anxious to get her back on her feet. For my part, I told them to let me lie there for a moment gathering my wits. They were bound and determined to get me upright, but I was having none of that because I could feel that I would black out if I came upright too quickly. When I would let them, they helped me into the penalty box where I put my head between my knees as I sat on the bench. (One of the expert skaters kept insisting that I lean back against the wall. He may be a physician, for all I know; but, I know how to handle it when I am in danger of blacking out.)
Within 10 minutes I was over the danger of blacking out, I was being questioned by the skating rink manager, and four Emergency Medical Technicians had arrived from the Wichita Fire Department. After establishing that I was lucid, that I had taken the brunt of the fall on my left shoulder, that I bumped my head lightly, that I had fallen (not passed out), that my blood pressure was normal, that I would sign a form saying that I declined transport to a hospital, and that I wished to continue skating, the EMTs and crowd dispersed. However, for the few circuits that I skated after the fall, everyone was very solicitous.
I am at home, it has been a few hours, I know that I am more injured than I had realized (of course!), and knowing that I won't be able to move in the morning (I had told my new friends at the rink that it would probably be a week before my aches would let me return), I have decided that I really mustn't make a habit of taking such falls. I really need to learn to stay on my feet/skates. Anyone have a sky crane that I may borrow?
Sabra has sent me three emails, one of which included this (below) photo of two of the young girls who went to get me a cup of water, offered to remove my skates for me, and were quite solicitous of my well-being. Sabra wrote that she and the young girls all hoped that I would be back on the ice soon. Awwww...aren't they sweet?
When I return to the rink, I plan to sit down with the manager to educate him on dealing with us elders. Good grief! If he is going to call 9-1-1 every time I fall, we have a problem here. He needs to understand that young people jump up from a big fall like a Jack-in-the-box, that adults take 1/2 second longer, and that we elders take 10 minutes. Let's not make a federal case of it unless there are broken bones or unless the ice is becoming red with blood! He probably has a rule by which he is bound; but, I'm hoping that I can leave a document with him that absolves the rink and its management from blame when I fall. (He offered to have the skates I was using sharpened to get better grip on the ice. I assured him that the fall wasn't caused by the ice or the skates but by my inattentiveness.)