#higgs
A transfer of energy
e=
ye know, in the higgs,
do we still honor the guy
that idea had? Capital letters confer honor,
in my literary culture.
Honor is not always due.
Higgs did the math, so H is honoring
his attention to detail, there for duty to honor
knowns predicted by men augmented
with reason, conlogique, mit prehensile
minds capable of accounting for believable unseeables.
Despise not the day of small things,
the boson thinglet, math says those ef
fect, in fact, make
mass, any thing that ever matters
at all.
'Justathought.
( A syllable at a time saves stitches,
don't run with scissors, beware
the concise)
Whet the Mobius edge,
Ping, inside, outside, one side, one edge, light
glint, bent gravitasish, bouncing,
crissing and crossing at every vector in time from this
particularity, a dimensional dialectic duality,
whys and hows dancing
that's the field at work, maybe,
whence things making matter matter rise up,
may be not.
Real quick decicisions happen
in that field idea.
Nur Herr Doctors, Master Professors of
Sophia's Sacred Secreted Truths may enact the
Matriculate's escape from dominion of higgsian rules
by endowing
hidden treasure, for baksheesh, in power spells
and chants and cheers and degrees of
blood sworn oathz.
E pluribus unem is one of 'em, I learned.
Too spiritual a' idea to be allowed
but to them whose cogitatin'
warn't troubled, them
secret keepers,
the civilizeers'ad vizeers in Teflon tenured towers
overlooked some honorable ideas,
Higgs, so what? We all know
Things be that we can only imagine seeing.
Which reminded me, not all bubbles are spherical.
You know. You have seen big long stretchy
silicon re-enforced detergent
bubbles, on TV.
The higgs field of reality is such a bubble,
to my mind. Can you imagine that?
to my mind away
we went as if we were wind, whispers
in the storm.
Settle down. All that can be de
constructed can be de
solved, dis
cerned, de
fined,
As re-al ways made where no way was.
Riddle or rhyme, which is easier to remember?
Riddle locks to keywords
Ryhme locks to a sound and sound locks to
tune
tones, frequency
found, perfect peaks and troughs then
keywords unlock the channel
where living and life are wave and particle,
medium and message sent.
=========
If there were shame on your nation,
was that shame on you, like an extension,
or like a pro jected ob jection...
juxt aposit just a point in the field upon which
the story you know is no lie, it mattered and
may rise,
knave to wizard, if you
tell it funny.
funny only hurts when evil people do it.
Be the clown, bounce into the spot,
"Gotdim, gotdimimim, fuggafuggagubbledy boo"
Magi fool, lies about the futil-if-ity of sisting,
in the world, he will eat you alive, lest you know
the word. Or the riddle.
Inspire, expire, that sort of thing, but
spiritual. A trans fer of con
served en
ergy, via demiurge, per
hapmayhap and
magi transisters
regularizing the flow
through the locks, in
formation
for ward
flow, that's all they know.
Our servants who motivate us,
all they do is use our breath and our blood
to charge up the ATP batteries by the billions,
until we cannot withstand the pressure.
A fugettin' consarnation story teller,
who then lies, and sows discord among bretheren,
by adding to and taking from the story,
pre suming knowns unknown are
mere myth the magi invented
mit wit and subtle twisting.
Novices, apprentices,
those ain't allowed to eat pearls 'til they wisdom
teeth come in,
that penultimate major marker, of maturation,
in the gut
brain input-putout exchange system,
once those have changed the way
vortices of taste
swirl words down the eustacion
spiral, then
The frontal cortex kicks in and God only knows
the tune we sing in ryth'm
with the snow flake rhymes framing my window pane.
If there were shame on my nation, like a ***** snow... then a flood,,,
dark, near no light, shame, shame shame... thick, glacial
filth filtering frozen
liar shame, bully shame, lover of twisted rights shame;
war would never melt it.
Thus global warming. Just in time.
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 1:23 PM UTC
In the crows nest
Wind burnt and ruddy
From past navigational
Errors. Wearing stripes earned
While traversing the
Luna Sea
I see a new world
It smells as fresh
As a newborns
Head, and
As promising as a
:::Higgs Boson:::
Unwinding paired bases
And just-in-cases
Leaving no traces, and
Sharing open spaces
A gossamer trail,
it seems, might
~prevail~
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
The Standard Model is full of sticky, quirky Quarks,
perky little Fermions, and the Boson Higgs,
the reigning King of Mass of towering might;
who, by spontaneously falling off in any old direction,
gives ad hoc Masses to nearly all, and to all a birthright.
And for all normal matter in creation,
the Boson Higgs is the physicist's salvation.
Alas, we could have learned more,
but a Weasel ate through the Collider core.
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:33 PM UTC