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I took the day off today [mostly] and decompressed from all the activity of the past week (to be described in a future journal entry). After spending the morning whittling away at the barrage of this week's email, I went outside to spend my afternoon reading and enjoying the warm Autumn air. As usual, it was another beautiful clear day. After the never-ending grey skies of Chicago, the vibrant blue -- with an occasional puffy cloud -- is more than welcome.
Outside of comic books and corporate newspapers, I have not read works of fiction since October -- nearly half a year now. Not by design, but all of the books I have read recently have been non-fictional. So I put down Howard Zinn and brought out The Physicists, a short play from the 1960s written by the Swiss playwright Friedrich Durrenmatt. It was given to me in February by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cheshcat.
I read through the entire play this afternoon and, I have to say, it was quite strange. The three physicists in the play are all locked up in a madhouse: One thinks he is Newton, one thinks he is Einstein, and one has visions of King Solomon. As the play progresses, murders occur, spies are revealed, and the end does not bode well for the world. The content of physics is deliberately ignored, but the play focuses on the effect of physics research. Besides being a good read, it was especially interesting to me, as I consider a physicist's responsibility for the way their own work is used to be very important. I know that many other physicists disagree, but this view was one of the many valuable things that I picked up in my Hampshire College education.
Outside of comic books and corporate newspapers, I have not read works of fiction since October -- nearly half a year now. Not by design, but all of the books I have read recently have been non-fictional. So I put down Howard Zinn and brought out The Physicists, a short play from the 1960s written by the Swiss playwright Friedrich Durrenmatt. It was given to me in February by
cheshcat. I read through the entire play this afternoon and, I have to say, it was quite strange. The three physicists in the play are all locked up in a madhouse: One thinks he is Newton, one thinks he is Einstein, and one has visions of King Solomon. As the play progresses, murders occur, spies are revealed, and the end does not bode well for the world. The content of physics is deliberately ignored, but the play focuses on the effect of physics research. Besides being a good read, it was especially interesting to me, as I consider a physicist's responsibility for the way their own work is used to be very important. I know that many other physicists disagree, but this view was one of the many valuable things that I picked up in my Hampshire College education.
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