We all remember that infamous scene in the 1983 classic, A Christmas Story , where a young boy licks a cold metal post on the playground and ends up getting his tongue stuck to the surface. It's practically a childhood rite of passage. A 1996 case study coined the term "tundra tongue" to describe the phenomenon. But how dangerous is it, really? And what's the best way to free one's tongue with minimal damage?

Anders Hagen Jarmund, a graduate student at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology (NTNU), experienced tundra tongue firsthand in his youth and had the same questions. So he decided to investigate the underlying science as part of his master's thesis, recruiting several colleagues to the project. This turned into two separate papers: one published in the International Journal of Pediatric Otorhinolaryngology, and the other in the journal Head & Face Medicine.

“I’m from a small place called Hattfjelldal, which is quite cold in the winter,” Jarmund said of the rationale for undertaking the project. “I don’t remember if it was a signpost or a lamppost behind the school, but I remember licking it and my tongue got stuck. This was an experience that my friends had also had, actually, and then we were wondering if it was actually dangerous, getting your tongue stuck to a lamppost or railing.” (Their experience was common, it seems; Norway actually passed legislation in 1998 to prohibit any bare metal in playground equipment.)

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We all remember that infamous scene in the 1983 classic, A Christmas Story , where a young boy licks a cold metal post on the playground and ends up getting his tongue stuck to the surface. It's practically a childhood rite of passage. A 1996 case study coined the term "tundra tongue" to describe the phenomenon. But how dangerous is it, really? And what's the best way to free one's tongue with minimal damage?

Anders Hagen Jarmund, a graduate student at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology (NTNU), experienced tundra tongue firsthand in his youth and had the same questions. So he decided to investigate the underlying science as part of his master's thesis, recruiting several colleagues to the project. This turned into two separate papers: one published in the International Journal of Pediatric Otorhinolaryngology, and the other in the journal Head & Face Medicine.

“I’m from a small place called Hattfjelldal, which is quite cold in the winter,” Jarmund said of the rationale for undertaking the project. “I don’t remember if it was a signpost or a lamppost behind the school, but I remember licking it and my tongue got stuck. This was an experience that my friends had also had, actually, and then we were wondering if it was actually dangerous, getting your tongue stuck to a lamppost or railing.” (Their experience was common, it seems; Norway actually passed legislation in 1998 to prohibit any bare metal in playground equipment.)

Read full article

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We all remember that infamous scene in the 1983 classic, A Christmas Story , where a young boy licks a cold metal post on the playground and ends up getting his tongue stuck to the surface. It's practically a childhood rite of passage. A 1996 case study coined the term "tundra tongue" to describe the phenomenon. But how dangerous is it, really? And what's the best way to free one's tongue with minimal damage?

Anders Hagen Jarmund, a graduate student at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology (NTNU), experienced tundra tongue firsthand in his youth and had the same questions. So he decided to investigate the underlying science as part of his master's thesis, recruiting several colleagues to the project. This turned into two separate papers: one published in the International Journal of Pediatric Otorhinolaryngology, and the other in the journal Head & Face Medicine.

“I’m from a small place called Hattfjelldal, which is quite cold in the winter,” Jarmund said of the rationale for undertaking the project. “I don’t remember if it was a signpost or a lamppost behind the school, but I remember licking it and my tongue got stuck. This was an experience that my friends had also had, actually, and then we were wondering if it was actually dangerous, getting your tongue stuck to a lamppost or railing.” (Their experience was common, it seems; Norway actually passed legislation in 1998 to prohibit any bare metal in playground equipment.)

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Last week, IBM trumpeted its contributions to a rather unusual paper: the production of a molecule with a half-Möbius topology, assisted by an algorithm run in part on a quantum computer. There was, to put it mildly, a lot going on in this paper, and it took a little while to digest. But it's interesting in what it says about the sorts of chemistry that we can construct with tools developed over the past several decades, as well as how quantum computation is inching toward utility.

But getting the full picture requires about three different stories, so we'll go through each of them separately before bringing the big picture together.

Orbitals with a twist

Those of you who can still dredge up your high school chemistry lessons probably remember benzene, a six-carbon ring with alternating single and double bonds that kept all the carbons locked into a single plane, creating a flat molecule. What you are a bit less likely to remember is that the double bonding is mediated by orbitals that extend vertically above and below the nucleus of the carbon atoms. Thanks to the alternating single-double nature of the bonds, electrons in these orbitals end up delocalized; the differences between the bonds become a bit irrelevant, and the molecule is best viewed as having some of its electrons floating around in a cloud. The same would hold true for even larger molecules with the same sort of bonding arrangement.

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Last week, IBM trumpeted its contributions to a rather unusual paper: the production of a molecule with a half-Möbius topology, assisted by an algorithm run in part on a quantum computer. There was, to put it mildly, a lot going on in this paper, and it took a little while to digest. But it's interesting in what it says about the sorts of chemistry that we can construct with tools developed over the past several decades, as well as how quantum computation is inching toward utility.

But getting the full picture requires about three different stories, so we'll go through each of them separately before bringing the big picture together.

Orbitals with a twist

Those of you who can still dredge up your high school chemistry lessons probably remember benzene, a six-carbon ring with alternating single and double bonds that kept all the carbons locked into a single plane, creating a flat molecule. What you are a bit less likely to remember is that the double bonding is mediated by orbitals that extend vertically above and below the nucleus of the carbon atoms. Thanks to the alternating single-double nature of the bonds, electrons in these orbitals end up delocalized; the differences between the bonds become a bit irrelevant, and the molecule is best viewed as having some of its electrons floating around in a cloud. The same would hold true for even larger molecules with the same sort of bonding arrangement.

Read full article

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Last week, IBM trumpeted its contributions to a rather unusual paper: the production of a molecule with a half-Möbius topology, assisted by an algorithm run in part on a quantum computer. There was, to put it mildly, a lot going on in this paper, and it took a little while to digest. But it's interesting in what it says about the sorts of chemistry that we can construct with tools developed over the past several decades, as well as how quantum computation is inching toward utility.

But getting the full picture requires about three different stories, so we'll go through each of them separately before bringing the big picture together.

Orbitals with a twist

Those of you who can still dredge up your high school chemistry lessons probably remember benzene, a six-carbon ring with alternating single and double bonds that kept all the carbons locked into a single plane, creating a flat molecule. What you are a bit less likely to remember is that the double bonding is mediated by orbitals that extend vertically above and below the nucleus of the carbon atoms. Thanks to the alternating single-double nature of the bonds, electrons in these orbitals end up delocalized; the differences between the bonds become a bit irrelevant, and the molecule is best viewed as having some of its electrons floating around in a cloud. The same would hold true for even larger molecules with the same sort of bonding arrangement.

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A NASA satellite that spent more than a decade coursing through the Van Allen radiation belts encircling Earth is about to fall back into the atmosphere.

Most of the spacecraft will burn up during reentry, but a fraction of the material making up the 1,323-pound (600-kilogram) satellite will likely reach Earth's surface without vaporizing in the atmosphere. Uncontrolled reentries of satellites with comparable mass happen quite regularly—multiple times per month, according to one recent study —but most of them are older spacecraft or spent rocket bodies.

This reentry is notable because it poses a higher risk to the public than the US government typically allows. The risk of harm coming to anyone on Earth is still low, approximately 1 in 4,200, but it exceeds the government standard of a 1 in 10,000 chance of an uncontrolled reentry causing a casualty.

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A NASA satellite that spent more than a decade coursing through the Van Allen radiation belts encircling Earth is about to fall back into the atmosphere.

Most of the spacecraft will burn up during reentry, but a fraction of the material making up the 1,323-pound (600-kilogram) satellite will likely reach Earth's surface without vaporizing in the atmosphere. Uncontrolled reentries of satellites with comparable mass happen quite regularly—multiple times per month, according to one recent study —but most of them are older spacecraft or spent rocket bodies.

This reentry is notable because it poses a higher risk to the public than the US government typically allows. The risk of harm coming to anyone on Earth is still low, approximately 1 in 4,200, but it exceeds the government standard of a 1 in 10,000 chance of an uncontrolled reentry causing a casualty.

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A NASA satellite that spent more than a decade coursing through the Van Allen radiation belts encircling Earth is about to fall back into the atmosphere.

Most of the spacecraft will burn up during reentry, but a fraction of the material making up the 1,323-pound (600-kilogram) satellite will likely reach Earth's surface without vaporizing in the atmosphere. Uncontrolled reentries of satellites with comparable mass happen quite regularly—multiple times per month, according to one recent study —but most of them are older spacecraft or spent rocket bodies.

This reentry is notable because it poses a higher risk to the public than the US government typically allows. The risk of harm coming to anyone on Earth is still low, approximately 1 in 4,200, but it exceeds the government standard of a 1 in 10,000 chance of an uncontrolled reentry causing a casualty.

Read full article

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