If you’ve ever popped open a chilled bottle of champagne, you’ve probably witnessed the gray-white cloud of mist that forms as the cork flies. Opening the bottle releases a spurt of high-pressure carbon dioxide gas, although that’s not what you see in the cloud. The cloud consists of water droplets from the ambient air, driven to condense by a sudden drop in temperature caused by the expansion of the escaping carbon dioxide. Scientifically speaking, this is known as adiabatic expansion; when a gas expands in volume, it drops in temperature. This is why cans of compressed air feel cold after you’ve released a few bursts of air.
If your champagne bottle is cold (a) or cool (b), the gray-white water droplet cloud is what you see. But if your champagne is near room temperature ( c ), something very different happens: a blue fog forms inside the bottle and shoots out behind the cork. To understand why, we have to consider what’s going on in the bottle before and after the cork pops.
A room temperature bottle of champagne is at substantially higher pressure than one that’s chilled. That means that opening the bottle makes the gas inside undergo a bigger drop in pressure, which, in turn, means stronger adiabatic expansion. Counterintuitively, the gas escaping the warm champagne actually gets colder than the gas escaping the chilled champagne because there’s a bigger pressure drop driving it. That whoosh of carbon dioxide is cold enough, in fact, for some of the gas to freeze in that rushed escape. The blue fog is the result of tiny dry ice crystals scattering light inside the bottleneck.
That flash of blue is only momentary, though, and the extra drop in temperature won’t cool your champagne at all. Liquids retain heat better than gases do. For more, on champagne physics check out these previous posts. (Image and research credit: G. Liger-Belair et al.; submitted by David H.)
Wait. So if tides are the ocean’s response to the moon’s gravitational pull on the Earth, and in atla water benders could no longer bend after the moon was gone, does that mean water benders don’t bend water, but the gravitational force of the moon?
It is important to realize that in physics today, we have no knowledge of what energy is. We do not have a picture that energy comes in little blobs of a definite amount. It is not that way. However, there are formulas for calculating some numerical quantity… It is an abstract thing in that it does not tell us the mechanism or the reasons for the various formulas.
He is returned home to Paris the morning of February 18th, 1832 — a mere ten hours after he left.
(Ten hours, that is, in accordance with the measurement of time he once found most rational, before he knew of dimensions and universes and general relativity.)
His flat is unchanged, and he finds himself sitting in precisely the same position upon his bed, duvet half turned-over, that he had when the deciding knock at the door occurred. According to his pocket watch, set on the bedside table, he has about ninety minutes before he is meant to commence his rounds.
Three raps at the door startle him, as does the voice which follows: “Combeferre?”
He rises to open the door, and Enjolras greets him with flushed cheeks and snow upon his hat.
“Good day, Combeferre, you’ve my apologies for disturbing you so early, but I came to see you before I depart - ah, you are not ill, surely?”
“Do come in,” replies Combeferre, somewhat choked. He realizes what he must look like, after his journey, and feigns a cough. Enjolras frowns, concerned, and remains in place.
“Forgive me,” he says, “I cannot stay. The coach will be at my apartment within the hour. I wanted only to say goodbye, as you did not answer your door last night - you’ve the details of my journey, I shall be back by the first, I daresay, and farewell.”
They embrace. Combeferre feels as though his body is operating independently of his mind, which is still racing, but yet he is able to recognize the rareness of such a moment, and he holds Enjolras in his arms with a surge of sentimentality. A bit of snow falls upon his head.
“Enjolras,” he murmurs, his heart still pounding, something in him still incredulous, “do you ever picture to yourself the future?”
“Each day, Citizen Combeferre,” says Enjolras, without truly knowing, and then with but few words more he is gone.
I keep on seeing people throw around the term “multiverse theory” and I don’t think anyone fully grasps the true meaning on it.
The multiverse theory speculates that there are an infinite number of universes to correlate with an infinite number of possibilities. Infinite by definition means “all”. Multiverse theory doesn’t hold “most” possibilities within it’s infinite universes. It holds, all possibilities.
Meaning somewhere out there in the cosmos there is a version of Earth much like our own, where Naruto and Cloud Strife are in a homosexual relationship and have a son, John Cena, and they are all the presidents of the United States of Gondor.
If you put any stock in the multiverse theory then you must concede that this is not only a possibility, but a stone cold fact. This is why theoretical physics is the most brilliant scientific discipline.