If you love being confused and annoyed, read the Times' piece about this year's Nobel Prize in physics. Otherwise, see what Sean Carroll and Matt Strassler have to say.
Also see i09's formula for Nobel wins in a handy chart.
What the f*, did the NIF get a step closer to ignition and I'm on furlough? F*, I need to get back to the office.
It was budget cuts that destroyed the Library of Alexandria (the other Alexandria; not the one to which I'll be returning some DVDs today).
The furlough is taking a (so far small) toll on relationships.
Well, in lieu of growing a furlough beard, I'm just blogging a hell of a lot more and you're just going to have to deal with it. (Did I mention that I waited a full week before drowning my ennui in Banana?)
Anyway, this morning, I'm going to blog-ramble about how unromantic I am.
I've been thinking about my lack of appreciation of "romance" because a (male) friend can't get his head around my indifference to a play and its allegedly romantic moments. It's not that I don't appreciate genuine moments and signs of affection; I just don't care for manufactured ones, like heart-shaped boxes of chocolate. I don't know to what extent this 'meh' to romance is specific to me or a more general truth about how, contrary to stereotype, men love that cheezy $hit and women see it as a distraction. So my question to you is, is this a broader thing? Is the stereotype the reverse of reality?
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