The Quantum Tunnel Newsletter Vol. 1, March 13, 2010Though you’re many years away?Don’t you hear me calling you? 15Write your letters in the sandFor the day I take your handIn the land that our grandchildren knew.In the year of ’39 20Came a ship in from the blue,The volunteers came home that day.And they bring good newsOf a world so newly born,Though their hearts so heavily weigh. 25For the earth is old and greyTo a new home we’ll away,But my love this cannot be,For so many years have goneThough I’m older but a year 30Your mother’s eyes from your eyes cry tome.Don’t you hear my callThough you’re many years away?Don’t you hear me calling you? 35Write your letters in the sandFor the day I’ll take your handIn the land that our grandchildren knew.Don’t you hear my call 40Though you’re many years away?Don’t you hear me calling you?All your letters in the sandCannot heal me like your hand,For my life 45Still ahead.Pity me.
Queen, written by Brian May
We can now examine the song as a physics prob-lem and determine the speed of the ship. Maybesome time in the future, mankind will learn to travelthe stars at speeds close to the speed of light. Un-fortunately, it’s nothing like we see with Star Trek’swarp drive but the physics is rooted in special rela-tivity. From lines1and20, we can tell the journey
takes a total of 100 years, let
∆
t
=
100. We see fromline30, that only one year has passed on the ship so,
∆
t
=
1. Pluggingwhatweknowintoeq.(1.1),weget100
=
1
1
−
v
2
c
2
⇒
v
=
0.99995
c
Solving for
v
shows that the travelers are moving at99.995% the speed of light; not quite the speed of light but very close. But the song goes much fur-ther, it doesn’t just describe the time dilation effect,it also discusses the very human implications of thismission.
The Poet and the Time Traveller
How does this contrast to Hesse’s “The Poet”? Arethere any similarities and if so, what are they?
The Poet
Only on me, the lonely one,The unending stars of the night shine,The stone fountain whispers its magicsong,To me alone, to me the lonely oneThe colorful shadows of the wanderingcloudsMove like dreams over the open country-side.Neither house nor farmland,Neither forest nor hunting privilege isgiven to me,What is mine belongs to no one,Theplungingbrookbehindtheveilofthewoods,The frightening sea,The bird whir of children at play,The weeping and singing, lonely in theevening, of a man secretly in love.The temples of the gods are mine also,and minethe aristocratic groves of the past.And no less, the luminousVault of heaven in the future is my home:Often in full flight of longing my soulstorms upward,To gaze on the future of blessed men,Love, overcomingthelaw, lovefrompeo-ple to people.I find them all again, nobly transformed:Farmer, king, tradesman, busy sailors,Shepherd and gardener, all of themGratefully celebrate the festival of the fu-ture world.Only the poet is missing,The lonely one who looks on,The bearer of human longing, the paleimageOfwhomthefuture, thefulfillmentoftheworldHas no further need. Many garlandsWilt on his grave,But no one remembers him.
Hermann Hesse
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