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A physics poem for Erwin Schrodinger

Erwin Schorodinger

Schorodinger, Erwin! Professor of physics!
Wrote daring equations! Confounded his critics!
Win saw that the theory that Newton'd invented
By Einsteins discov'ries had badly been dented.
"What now?" wailed his colleagues. Said Erwin, "Don't panic,
No grease monkey I, but a quantum mechanic.
Consider electrons. Now these teeny articles
Are sometimes like waves and sometimes like particles.
If that's not confusing, the nuclear dance
Of electrons and suchlike is governed by chance!
No sweat though -- my theory permits us to judge
Where some of 'em is and the rest of 'em was."
Not everyone bought this. It threatened to wreck
The comforting linkage of cause and effect.
E'en Einstein had doubts, so Schrodinger tried
To tell him what quantum mechanics implied.
Said Win to Al, "Brother, suppose we've a cat,
And inside a tube we've put that cat at --
Along with a solitaire deck and some Fritos,
A bottle of Night Train, a couple mosquitoes, (Or something else rhyming)
And oh, if you got 'em, One vial prussic acid, one decaying
atom but when it emits,
A trigger device blasts the vial into bits
Which snuffs out poor kitty.
The odds of this crime
Are fifty to fifty per hour each time.
The cylinder's sealed. The hour's passed away.
Is Our kitty still purring -- or pushing up daisies?
Now, YOU'd say it either lives or it don't,
But quantum mechanics is stubborn, and won't.
Statistically speaking, the cat (goes the joke)
Is half a cat purring, and half a cat croaked.
To some this may seem a ridiculous split,
But quantum mechanics must answer, "Tough sh*t."
We may not know much, but one thing's fo' sho';
There's things in this cosmos that we cannot know.
Shine light on electrons -- you'll cause them to swerve.
The act of observing disturbs the observed --
Which ruins your test. But if there's no testing
To see if a particle's moving or resting
Why try to conjecture?
Pure useless endeavor! We know probability; certainty, never."
The effect of this notion? I very much fear
'Twill make doubtful all things that were formerly clear.
Till soon the cat doctors will say in reports,
"We've just flipped a coin and learned he's a corpse."
So said Herr Erwin. Quoth Albert, "You're nuts.
God doesn't play dice with the universe, putz.
I'll prove it!" he said, and Lord know he tried --
In vain -- until fin'ly he more or less died.
Win spoke at the funeral: "Listen dear friends,
Sweet Al was my buddy, I must make amends.
Though he doubted my theory, I'll say of the saint:
Ten to one he's in heaven -- but five bucks says he ain't."

 
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