Little Infrared Riding Hood

My, what bright, glowing optical fibers you have.

One of my online compatriots recently explained a quick and easy way to do some IR photography. I felt compelled to try, and it was pretty easy. Cheap webcams are the most direct way to do this for a few reasons:

— they’re cheap. If you mess it up, you’re only out a few simoleans.

— they have manual focus. Modifying an autofocus camera requires you replace the IR filter with a glass plate, because removing it changes the optical path length. It’s a much trickier operation.

— it’s usually a fast modification

Just remove the lens — some of them simply unscrew — and check to see if the filter is mounted on the back. (If not, you’ll have to take the assembly apart. No biggie, though, it’s likely just one or two screws. You’ll need a jeweler’s screwdriver, probably phillips-head). Pop the filter off with a small screwdriver or equivalent; the filter may not survive in one piece, so don’t go into this expecting it to survive. Reassemble. You’re done. If the filter isn’t there, it’ll be covering the CCD/CMOS chip, but my extensive data (three points) says that it’s mounted on the back of the lens.

Plug it in to your computer and start taking pictures.

Expectations: This isn’t thermal imaging, so don’t expect bodies to show up glowing. Silicon, the element of choice, has a pretty sharp cutoff starting at about 950 nm, so what you’ll see in the near-IR. Something would have to be about 3000 K to be peaked at that wavelength and thermal images of body temperature targets peak between 9 and 10 microns. Also, the images will be small, since cheap webcams generally run only about a megapixel.

I just happen to have access to several infrared lasers (852 nm and 780 nm, the images use the latter), to give extreme examples of what you can see. This first picture is a laser table with the room lights off. You can see scattered light from several optical components, as well as light emanating from two optical fibers — not all of the light gets coupled into the fibers, and you’re seeing some of what leaks out (some probably in the wrong mode, since these are single-mode fibers, and the bending probably contributes)

IR laser table photo

In this second photo, there are two images of the same scene, taken with the room lights on. On the left, some shutters are shut, and on the right they are open, and you can see two fibers lit up. Also note the cylinder to the left — that’s a vapor cell with rubidium gas in it, set up for spectroscopy for servo-locking the laser. The laser is on resonance, so you can see the fluorescence as the beam passes through it.

As you can see, there’s quite a lot of scattered light, so normally this is encased in opaque plexiglass. None of the bright features shown are visible with the naked eye.

The LEGO vault

Lego Secret Vault Contains All Sets In History

You know what I’m talking about, those were the days and all that jazz. But for real. Feelings and moments from times when everything was innocent and your only concern was your bike, a big carpet full of Lego bricks, and the amount of cocoa in your cereals.

After that, it was one wave after the other, jumping from Lego Space to Lego Technic to Lego Town to Lego Castle and Lego Pirates and Lego Star Wars. Each set a memory, a particular Kodak moment blurred by the occasional teary eye

Probably no Fun Snacks, though

via Kottke

Doolittling

ANIMAL TALES by Simon Rich

What animals talk about.

DALMATIANS
“Hey, look, the truck’s stopping.”
“Did they take us to the park this time?”
“No—it’s a fire. Another horrible fire.”
“What the hell is wrong with these people?”

Still, “I’m going to the vet’s to get tutored” beats all. (Whatever happened to Gary Larson, anyway?)

If We Built This Large Wooden Badger . . .

I remember reading about this last January, and now I see via Bee at Backreaction that it’s in the news again.

Floating banana’s appeal for funding slips

Despite getting about $105,000 from Quebec and federal art-funding agencies, Canadian artist Cesar Saez’s flying-banana project appears to be meeting turbulence. According to his project’s webpage, the Geostationary Banana Over Texas has failed to get enough grassroots funding to ensure its planned launch date in August.
[…]
People can think it’s a hoax,” Mr. Arpin added, “but artists have been doing a lot of interesting things that a lot of people haven’t been able to follow. He [Mr. Saez] is pushing the boundaries and letting people think outside the box – or the fruit basket.”

Maybe some people thought it was a hoax because you can’t get a helium balloon high enough to be in a geostationary orbit, and a geostationary orbit can’t exist over Texas. Geostationary is a scientific/technical term. It has a specific meaning. If you just make crap up, some people won’t take you seriously.

The project’s Web-based fundraising drive says it needs $1.5-million.

Oooh. My badger project needs $1.5 million. I can’t describe how badly it needs it. Pony up, people. Or at least start buying some t-shirts.

Game Theory

A side comment by Matt about quizzes triggered a thought (so many of these interactions are induced rather than spontaneous)

I have all my old lecture notes and materials so the only real thing I have to do is make up new quizzes. Students are good at nothing if not gaming the system and they’d notice repeated quizzes pretty quickly.

When I TA’d I did labs, but the same idea applied. It was assumed that the students had access to old lab reports and exams (especially if they were in a fraternity or sorority) so the one thing we could make different was a question or two tacked on to the end of the calculations. And that did trip up a couple of students, who had obviously just copied from some old report to which they had access. Professors had various strategies about re-using questions, but I think the use of computers has made it far easier to keep a large database and mix-and-match questions that simple memorization of old exams prohibitive for introductory classes.

When I was teaching in the navy it wasn’t an issue. Quizzes didn’t count toward your grade, so there was no real incentive to cheat, other than trying to get out of some extra problems to be worked because the instructor might assign them to people who failed several quizzes. There was no master file of exam questions because they were treated as restricted material — the students did not keep them, and they were strictly accounted for. But to cut down on the possibility of some “oral tradition” information flow between the different classes in session, questions were not re-used until the class that had taken that exam had graduated.

We had one incident that occurred just before I had transferred into one division — an exam went missing. The most likely explanation is someone miscounted, but what was recorded was that there were 126 exams (and they were numbered) and after the exam was administered #126 was nowhere to be found. So the exam was assumed to have been compromised for future tests, and all of the questions on the exam had to be removed from the exam bank. As it turned out, I inherited the job of writing that particular exam, so it fell to me to repopulate the stockpile — two brand spankin’ new questions per exam for the next year, so I got a lot of practice coming up with new material. Which isn’t that hard, because an old question with new numbers and solving for a different variable is a “new” question. The use of old questions wasn’t laziness, though — we didn’t grade on a curve, and the goal was to test each class the same, so you kept statistics, and made tests that had a predicted result of between a 3.1 and 3.2 on a 4.0 scale. A venerable question was well-trusted, and a new or changed question could throw the result off. If a class got an unexpectedly high or low score (usually low), an audit was initiated to try and ensure that there was nothing hinky going on. This was especially odious for the early exams, before the class had a chance establish itself as being above- or below-average. If a class had underperformed on earlier exams, tanking a later exam didn’t raise eyebrows. But at least once the conclusion was that it was the Russian judge a new question or two were harder than had been predicted, and had shaved a few tenths off the score.

But even within that strict paradigm, an exam-writer could game the system a little. No matter how much you’d drill it into the students’ heads to skip a tough question and go back to it later, there were those who didn’t. They’d invariably leave an easy question or two blank because they took too much time on another question that they still got mostly wrong. So putting tougher questions toward the front would tend to lower scores a little bit.

Maybe I'm Amazed

I’ve read on a couple of blogs about The Amaz!ng Meeting 6, (TAM6), with some promises of summaries. A couple have been posted. (I’m still waiting on reports from some of you. Listen, I’m not joking. This is my job!)

The Bad Astronomer thinks it was the Best. Meeting. Ever.

Neurologica posts some thoughts

Moo gets an incomplete, having promised some cool hushhush surprise in a teaser.