量子场
物质与光
粒子数表象
洛仑兹变换下
此消彼长
波函数成
量子化的场
是谁把这算符写进拉格朗日量
玻色费米
对易反对易
QED的辉煌
自能疯狂
我从远方
所有的方向
路径积分到你身旁
量子场论的伤粒子世界太繁华
Yang-Mills规范场对称性再扩张
重正化微绕项
标准模型剪不断
只留着引力在其外彷徨
画一条线
联接着顶点
清晰的费曼图
场的形象
对称坡却
Higgs质量
统一了电弱衰变结合电磁场
谁的颜色
囚禁着夸克
QCD作用强
GUT在望
无穷的项
Wilson有效场
一次截断
不留惆怅
量子场论的伤粒子世界太繁华
Yang-Mills规范场对称性再扩张
重正化微绕项
标准模型剪不断
只留着引力在其外彷徨
一个人的早餐只是一个鸡蛋,两个人的早餐就是一顿爱;
一个人的拥抱只能抱住风,两个人的拥抱就有真实的心痛;
一个人的快乐多么单薄,两个人的快乐充满了你我;
一个人的痛苦没有尽头,两个人的痛苦却会有人分担;
一篇文章被IEEE接收，昨天弄了大半天才搞好。立此存照
这首歌词真的很棒！
轰鸣的火车，伤心的月台，抒情的钢琴声缓缓向你走来，那凄凉的声音在讲述着一个凄美的故事……
我的婚礼-谢升皓
为我婚礼你老远回来
依旧是熟悉的微笑
默默望着你
千万思绪涌起
无奈我身边却不是你
你悄悄告诉我
新娘真美丽
我虔诚地祝福你
有多少辛酸都在你浅浅笑语里
只有我最能了解你
钟声已响起
往日情怀已远去
我将追寻未来的美景
回首望见你
在那祝福人群里
我看到你含泪的眼睛
回首望见你
还在祝福人群里
我只能默默地祝福你
have a try
[tex]\tex[/tex]
去年元夜时,花市灯如昼。
月上柳梢头,人约黄昏后。
今年元夜时,月与灯依旧。
不见去年人,泪湿春衫袖。
这篇文章很有意思！
While some physicists are known for their hearty support of atheism, even they can have some personal dieties. High in the physicist’s pantheon sits Richard Feynman, due not only to his obvious smarts and good work, but also to an outsized personality chonicled in a wealth of popular writings (and even a movie!). I’ve always had mixed feelings about Feynman as a cult figurehead, however. It’s nothing personal against Feynman in particular, but about the hero worship he represents. During high school or college, many aspiring physicists latch onto Feynman or Einstein or Hawking as representing all they hope to become. The problem is, the vast majority of us are just not that smart. Oh sure, we’re plenty clever, and are whizzes at figuring out the tip when the check comes due, but we’re not Feynman-Einstein-Hawking smart. We go through a phase where we hope that we are, and then reality sets in, and we either (1) deal, (2) spend the rest of our career trying to hide the fact that we’re not, or (3) drop out. It’s always bugged the crap out of me that physicists’ worship of genius conveys the simultaneous message that if you’re not F-E-H smart, then what good are you? In physics recommendation land, there is no more damning praise than saying someone is a “hard worker”.
Well, screw that. Yes, you have to be clever, but if you have good taste in problems, an ability to forge intellectual connections, an eye for untapped opportunities, drive, and yes, a willingness to work hard, you can have major impacts on the field. While my guess is that this is broadly understood to be true by those of us clever-but-not-F-E-H-smart folks who’ve survived the weeding of graduate school, postdoctoral positions, and assistant professorhood, we do a lousy job of communicating this fact to our students. I’ve always suspected that we lose talent from the field because people opt for Door #3 (drop out) when they face up to the fact that physics is frequently hard, even for very clever people. The idea that you have to be F-E-H smart to succeed gives little encouragement to continue when the going gets rough. (I have no idea if other fields have this same problem — my guess is that physicists are particularly prone to it, since we are trained early on to think that physicists are simply smarter than chemists or biologists. Those other fields are for the hard workers. We don’t put mathemeticians on this scale, because we secretly believe they’re smarter than us. Note to the biologist lynch mob: tounge is in cheek.)
Anyways, I’ve been thinking about this again in light of Po Bronson’s excellent article in New York Magazine about Carol Dweck’s research (which I read via Nordette in Blogher is coming out in a popular book Mindset: The New Psychology of Success). The article is focused on how to effectively handle praise for smart kids. The upshot (verified by a number of clever experiments), is that when you praise a kid for being smart in general, rather than for specific accomplishments or efforts, you risk paralyzing the kid with a fear of not looking smart, to the point where they will tend to shun challenges.
In follow-up interviews, Dweck discovered that those who think that innate intelligence is the key to success begin to discount the importance of effort. I am smart, the kids’ reasoning goes; I don’t need to put out effort. Expending effort becomes stigmatized—it’s public proof that you can’t cut it on your natural gifts.
Repeating her experiments, Dweck found this effect of praise on performance held true for students of every socioeconomic class. It hit both boys and girls—the very brightest girls especially (they collapsed the most following failure).
While Dweck is working primarily with preK-12 students, everything covered in the article rings true for what I’ve seen at the higher levels (both for myself, my colleagues, and students). Those of us who are fortunate enough to sail through high school often crumple when the stuff we’re allegedly good at finally becomes hard. Whether you “make it” as a physicist after that has a lot to do with how you respond at that moment. Do you take it as a sign that you’re not cut out for the game? Do you feel like a failure, and stop enjoying physics as a whole? Do you buck up and forge ahead? (Like a neutrino, you’ll probably wind up oscillating among the three mixed states for a while, before collapsing into one of them.)
I was most struck in Bronson’s article by a description of an experiment by Lisa Blackwell and Dweck on the impact on performance of how one perceives intelligence. In a science magnet school with low acheiving students, Blackwell studied 700 students, all of whom were taught a multi-session unit on study skills. One half of the group, however, also received a “special module on how intelligence is not inate”:
The teachers—who hadn’t known which students had been assigned to which workshop—could pick out the students who had been taught that intelligence can be developed. They improved their study habits and grades. In a single semester, Blackwell reversed the students’ longtime trend of decreasing math grades.
The only difference between the control group and the test group were two lessons, a total of 50 minutes spent teaching not math but a single idea: that the brain is a muscle. Giving it a harder workout makes you smarter. That alone improved their math scores.
These studies have lots of implications for higher ed in the sciences. Physics, with its strong cult of genius, is probably the canary in the coal mine.