Anything with a temperature above absolute 0 (which, considering that the background temperature of space is 2.7 K, is pretty much everything) emits lights with varying degrees of efficiency. Stars, for instance, are some of the most efficient emitters. Ideal emitters (an object that absorbs all light energy that hits it and reradiates that energy in a certain spectrum) reflect no light, and are thus known as blackbodies, and the reradiated energy is called blackbody radiation. Stars are not actually ideal emitters, but they are close enough to roughly approximate one. Some example blackbody spectra are shown on this graph:
As you can see from this graph, the blackbody spectrum varies with temperature. If you want to see an example of some of the things you can do with this fact, keep reading.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Universe Sandbox
I recently purchased a program called Universe Sandbox for $5. It is billed as an interactive space gravity simulator, featuring much of the known universe. You can focus on the solar system, nearby stars, the Milky Way, even the Local Cluster. You can click on each major object, and it will provide you with a list of pertinent information: mass, density, radius, orbit eccentricity, etc. That's cool, but it's not the best part. Having selected the pertinent information, you are then free to change it and see what happens!
Pretty much nothing is off-limits, not even the gravitational constant. You can add moons, or take them away. You can build your own solar system from scratch, or mess with the one we have. It's pretty awesome.
The program also can save screenshots, so I'll post images here if I discover anything interesting. So far, the main thing I've learned is that if you increase the radius of the Sun by a factor of 100, the Earth will die a fiery death. But that's not too surprising, so in the meantime, here's a simulation of the collision of the Milky Way and the Andromeda Galaxy.
It's due to happen in 4.5 billion years. Mark your calendars.
Pretty much nothing is off-limits, not even the gravitational constant. You can add moons, or take them away. You can build your own solar system from scratch, or mess with the one we have. It's pretty awesome.
The program also can save screenshots, so I'll post images here if I discover anything interesting. So far, the main thing I've learned is that if you increase the radius of the Sun by a factor of 100, the Earth will die a fiery death. But that's not too surprising, so in the meantime, here's a simulation of the collision of the Milky Way and the Andromeda Galaxy.
It's due to happen in 4.5 billion years. Mark your calendars.
More on ULIRGs
My presentation on my research is coming up, and there were some questions after my first post, so I thought I'd elaborate.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Astronomy at the Beach
This post is a little overdue, as this experiment occurred last week, but whatever. Last Friday, most of the Ay 20 class journeyed to Santa Monica beach, not merely for the cool ocean breeze or the calming sound of waves breaking on the sand, but for science. Read on for the details.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Eric Idle and Astronomy
If you haven't seen Monty Python's The Meaning of Life, I highly recommend it.
Tau Ceti and Declination
Partners: Nathan, Mee, Eric
Imagine you are standing outside on a clear night, far away from any sources of light pollution, yet also in the relative vicinity of Palomar Observatory (this will be important later). When you look up, you see a vast array of stars spread out before you.
Now, before you get too distracted by the splendor of the night sky, turn to face north, and find Polaris. Polaris is the North Star, and it is fixed in the heavens (for the next several thousand years, anyway), shining above the northern horizon.
If you watched the area around Polaris for the whole night, you would see the sky appear to rotate around it, with the paths of nearby stars tracing (parts of) circles in the night around the unmoving North Star.
You see, the Earth’s axis of rotation points toward Polaris; therefore, as the Earth rotates during the night, the angle between Polaris, the point of observation, and the observed star changes. So the star in question appears to be at a different point in the sky.
If you shift your observation of the sky to a position south of the area around Polaris, you’ll notice that the stars in this area trace larger circles. If you were able to watch their paths for 24 hours (the Sun tends to be a problem here), you would perhaps see that part of the stars’ paths are blocked by the Earth; their movements take place “behind” the horizon.
Why do the paths get longer as your gaze drifts south? This is a function of declination. This is essentially the same as latitude, and is measured in degrees north or south of the celestial equator (the celestial equator is simply the plane of the Earth’s equator extended out into space). Palomar is at about 30 degrees North; any object directly above it in the sky will have a declination of 30 degrees N (or an object directly above any point on the 30-degree latitude line).
You can also think of the declination as an angle whose vertex is at the Earth’s center, with one line on the celestial equator and one connecting the center of the Earth to the star in question. So Polaris, on the line of Earth’s rotational axis, is perpendicular to the celestial equator. Thus, Polaris’ declination is 90 degrees.
Take another star, Tau Ceti. It has a declination of negative 15 degrees, so it is in the Southern Hemisphere. But it’s close enough to the declination of the equator (0 degrees) that it should be visible in parts of the Northern Hemisphere. Like, say, Palomar.
Suppose that from Palomar’s 30 degrees N, any object with a declination >30 degrees is visible in the sky throughout the day. Everything between -30 and 30 is visible at some times but not others. Everything below -30 is never seen in the sky above Palomar.
Tau Ceti is within the sometimes-visible interval. So, when can we see Tau Ceti? Well, obviously we can’t see it during the day, because there’s an annoyingly close star whose light masks the presence of other stars during the daytime. At this latitude, the Sun is visible for just over 14 ours at the summer solstice, and just over 10 at the winter. Give it an extra two hours for the sky to darken, and you have possibly eight hours of time to see Tau Ceti in the summer and 12 in the winter.
But there is another factor to consider here. As the Earth moves in its orbit around the Sun, the time at which an object reaches the meridian (the highest point it reaches in the sky, and the best point for viewing) changes. Because, when the Earth rotates, it takes 360 degrees to complete one full rotation. But because it is also moving in space, after one full rotation, it must then rotate one extra degree to bring the starting point of the measurement in line with the sun. This extra rotation takes about 4 minutes. Accordingly, a given distant star will rise 4 minutes earlier each subsequent night.
Tau Ceti’s Right Ascension is 1 hour and 44 minutes, so about 2 hours. This is the time after noon (set at 0:00 hours) that a star will reach the meridian in the sky on the Vernal Equinox (known by some as March 20). So in late March, Tau Seti will be in prime viewing position around 2 pm. This is obviously a problem, as the Sun is also in prime viewing position around 2 pm. So when will Tau Ceti peak at a better time?
Every 30 days is about 120 minutes of change, or 2 hours. So around April 20, Tau Ceti will peak around noon. Not better. But by August, it will be peaking at around 4 in the morning. Tau Ceti will reach meridian at midnight in October.
So, if we assume that, because of its declination, Tau Ceti is best viewed around its meridian peak, when it can’t be hidden by the horizon, and that Tau Ceti, like most stars, is best viewed at night, then we can estimate the best times for viewing Tau Ceti as early fall to early winter.
Possibly more to follow, including graphs, if I have time.
Imagine you are standing outside on a clear night, far away from any sources of light pollution, yet also in the relative vicinity of Palomar Observatory (this will be important later). When you look up, you see a vast array of stars spread out before you.
Now, before you get too distracted by the splendor of the night sky, turn to face north, and find Polaris. Polaris is the North Star, and it is fixed in the heavens (for the next several thousand years, anyway), shining above the northern horizon.
If you watched the area around Polaris for the whole night, you would see the sky appear to rotate around it, with the paths of nearby stars tracing (parts of) circles in the night around the unmoving North Star.
You see, the Earth’s axis of rotation points toward Polaris; therefore, as the Earth rotates during the night, the angle between Polaris, the point of observation, and the observed star changes. So the star in question appears to be at a different point in the sky.
If you shift your observation of the sky to a position south of the area around Polaris, you’ll notice that the stars in this area trace larger circles. If you were able to watch their paths for 24 hours (the Sun tends to be a problem here), you would perhaps see that part of the stars’ paths are blocked by the Earth; their movements take place “behind” the horizon.
Why do the paths get longer as your gaze drifts south? This is a function of declination. This is essentially the same as latitude, and is measured in degrees north or south of the celestial equator (the celestial equator is simply the plane of the Earth’s equator extended out into space). Palomar is at about 30 degrees North; any object directly above it in the sky will have a declination of 30 degrees N (or an object directly above any point on the 30-degree latitude line).
You can also think of the declination as an angle whose vertex is at the Earth’s center, with one line on the celestial equator and one connecting the center of the Earth to the star in question. So Polaris, on the line of Earth’s rotational axis, is perpendicular to the celestial equator. Thus, Polaris’ declination is 90 degrees.
Take another star, Tau Ceti. It has a declination of negative 15 degrees, so it is in the Southern Hemisphere. But it’s close enough to the declination of the equator (0 degrees) that it should be visible in parts of the Northern Hemisphere. Like, say, Palomar.
Suppose that from Palomar’s 30 degrees N, any object with a declination >30 degrees is visible in the sky throughout the day. Everything between -30 and 30 is visible at some times but not others. Everything below -30 is never seen in the sky above Palomar.
Tau Ceti is within the sometimes-visible interval. So, when can we see Tau Ceti? Well, obviously we can’t see it during the day, because there’s an annoyingly close star whose light masks the presence of other stars during the daytime. At this latitude, the Sun is visible for just over 14 ours at the summer solstice, and just over 10 at the winter. Give it an extra two hours for the sky to darken, and you have possibly eight hours of time to see Tau Ceti in the summer and 12 in the winter.
But there is another factor to consider here. As the Earth moves in its orbit around the Sun, the time at which an object reaches the meridian (the highest point it reaches in the sky, and the best point for viewing) changes. Because, when the Earth rotates, it takes 360 degrees to complete one full rotation. But because it is also moving in space, after one full rotation, it must then rotate one extra degree to bring the starting point of the measurement in line with the sun. This extra rotation takes about 4 minutes. Accordingly, a given distant star will rise 4 minutes earlier each subsequent night.
Tau Ceti’s Right Ascension is 1 hour and 44 minutes, so about 2 hours. This is the time after noon (set at 0:00 hours) that a star will reach the meridian in the sky on the Vernal Equinox (known by some as March 20). So in late March, Tau Seti will be in prime viewing position around 2 pm. This is obviously a problem, as the Sun is also in prime viewing position around 2 pm. So when will Tau Ceti peak at a better time?
Every 30 days is about 120 minutes of change, or 2 hours. So around April 20, Tau Ceti will peak around noon. Not better. But by August, it will be peaking at around 4 in the morning. Tau Ceti will reach meridian at midnight in October.
So, if we assume that, because of its declination, Tau Ceti is best viewed around its meridian peak, when it can’t be hidden by the horizon, and that Tau Ceti, like most stars, is best viewed at night, then we can estimate the best times for viewing Tau Ceti as early fall to early winter.
Possibly more to follow, including graphs, if I have time.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Supermassive Black Hole
I mentioned supermassive black holes briefly in my last post as one of the potential causes of the power outputs of ultraluminous galaxies. However, I don't actually know a lot about them, so I went to my favorite place for quick information, Wikipedia.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supermassive_black_hole
According to this esteemed database (don't worry, the article appears to be properly referenced), while stellar black holes have masses on the order of those of large stars (makes sense), supermassive black holes may have millions of solar masses. More interesting, though, is the claim about the density of supermassive black holes:
The average density of a supermassive black hole (defined as the mass of the black hole divided by the volume within its Schwarzschild radius) can be much less than the density of water (the densities are similar for 108 solar mass black holes[5]). This is because the Schwarzschild radius is directly proportional to mass, while density is inversely proportional to the volume. Since the volume of a spherical object (such as the event horizon of a non-rotating black hole) is directly proportional to the cube of the radius, average density decreases for larger black holes, being inversely proportional to the square of the mass.The Schwarzchild radius is the distance from the center of an object such that, if an object's total mass is contained within the sphere of the Schwarzchild radius, the necessary escape velocity would be the speed of light. Which, unless you are some sort of rule-breaking neutrino, is against the law.
A black hole occurs when the radius of the object is less than that of its Schwarzchild radius. Fortunately for us, most things (like, say, the Milky Way) are not so compact.
But, the larger the Schwarzchild radius, the less compact (ie, dense) and object needs to be to still fulfill the criteria to be a black hole. And since the Schwarzchild radius is proportional to mass, the more massive an object, the less dense it needs to be. Wow.
Further links in case you're interested.
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