Music makes me...

I’m not sure how many people realize how much physics there actually is in music. In fact, the art of music is a branch of physics all on its own, called musical acoustics. The mathematics applied to this artistic field actually present beautiful and intriguing sounds that one would never think of directly, but at the same time has already intuitively known.

Here’s an example of what I mean. If you play an instrument, you’re already familiar with the major scale: a series of whole notes that make a pleasing sound. In reality, every note in that scale is repeating sound wave, buffeting the medium around it at a certain frequency. This translates into a musical tone when it hits your eardrum. Yet did you ever consider that, by measuring these frequencies, all of these tones can be connected through the wonderful world of numbers?

YES! MATH!

Antimatter: everything you'll never be

If any of you are familiar with Dan Brown’s book Angels and Demons, or if you've been around any physics anything in the past few years, then you might know a little bit about something called antimatter. You get one thing, grab its natural opposite, smash them together, and things explode. But really, what is antimatter? How does that even happen? Well, I'm glad you asked.

As common in almost all of the most interesting physics concepts, the science was predicted before it was discovered. It was no different with antimatter. In 1928, Paul Dirac published a paper outlining the connections between Albert Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, which worked on a large scale, and Erwin Schrodinger’s equation of quantum physics, which worked on a small scale. Now, understand: Dirac was freakin’ brilliant. His mathematics was spot-on, and his explanation connecting these two branches of physics made perfect sense if one analyzed his equations. 

Perfect Sense.