Sometimes the media get sloppy. OK, a lot of times, especially when the reporters don’t know what they’re writing about. Despite many headlines that “LIGO detected gravity waves,” that’s just not so. In fact, the LIGO team went to a great deal of trouble to ensure that gravity waves didn’t muck up their search for gravitational waves.
A wave happens in a system when a driving force and a restoring force take turns overshooting an equilibrium point AND the away-from-equilibrium-ness gets communicated around the system. The system could be a bunch of springs tied together in a squeaky old bedframe, or labor and capital in an economic system, or the network of water molecules forming the ocean surface, or the fibers in the fabric of space (whatever those turn out to be).
If you were to build a mathematical model of some wavery system you’d have to include those two forces plus quantitative descriptions of the thingies that do the moving and communicating. If you don’t add anything else, the model will predict motion that cycles forever. In reality, of course, there’s always something else that lets the system relax into equilibrium.
The something else could be a third force, maybe someone sitting on the bed, or government regulation in an economy, or reactant depletion for a chemical process. But usually it’s friction of one sort or another — friction drains away energy of motion and converts it to heat. Inside a spring, for instance, adjacent crystallites of metal rub against each other. There appears to be very little friction in space — we can see starlight waves that have traveled for billions of years.
Physicists pay attention to waves because there are some general properties that apply to all of them. For instance, in 1743 Jean-Baptiste le Rond d’Alembert proved there’s a strict relationship between a wave’s peakiness and its time behavior. Furthermore, Jean-Baptiste Joseph Fourier (pre-Revolutionary France must have been hip-deep in physicist-mathematicians) showed that a wide variety of more-or-less periodic phenomena could be modeled as the sum of waves of differing frequency and amplitude.
Monsieur Fourier’s insight has had an immeasurable impact on our daily lives. You can thank him any time you hear the word “frequency.” From broadcast radio and digitally recorded music to time-series-based business forecasting to the mode-locked lasers in a LIGO device — none would exist without Fourier’s reasoning.
Gravity waves happen when a fluid is disturbed and the restoring force is gravity. We’re talking physicist fluid here, which could be sea water or the atmosphere or solar plasma, anything where the constituent particles aren’t locked in place. Winds or mountain slopes or nuclear explosions push the fluid upwards, gravity pulls it back, and things wobble until friction dissipates that energy.
Gravitational waves are wobbles in gravity itself, or rather, wobbles in the shape of space. According to General Relativity, mass exerts a tension-like force that squeezes together the spacetime immediately around it. The more mass, the greater the tension.
An isolated black hole is surrounded by an intense gravitational field and a corresponding compression of spacetime. A pair of black holes orbiting each other sends out an alternating series of tensions, first high, then extremely high, then high…
Along any given direction from the pair you’d feel a pulsing gravitational field that varied above and below the average force attracting you to the pair. From a distance and looking down at the orbital plane, if you could see the shape of space you’d see it was distorted by four interlocking spirals of high and low compression, all steadily expanding at the speed of light.
The LIGO team was very aware that the signal of a gravitational wave could be covered up by interfering signals from gravity waves — ocean tides, Earth tides, atmospheric disturbances, janitorial footsteps, you name it. The design team arrayed each LIGO site with hundreds of “seismometers, accelerometers, microphones, magnetometers, radio receivers, power monitors and a cosmic ray detector.” As the team processed the LIGO trace they accounted for artifacts that could have come from those sources.
So no, the LIGO team didn’t discover gravity waves, we’ve known about them for a century. But they did detect the really interesting other kind.
~~ Rich Olcott



Almost a century later, James Clerk Maxwell (the bearded fellow at left) wrote down his electromagnetism equations that explain how light works. Half a century later, Einstein did the same for gravity.
Gravitodynamics is completely unlike electrodynamics. Gravity’s transverse “force” doesn’t act to move a whole mass up and down like Maxwell’s picture at left. Instead, as shown by Einstein’s picture, gravitational waves stretch and compress while leaving the center of mass in place. I put “force” in quotes because what’s being stretched and compressed is space itself. See 
The experiment consists of shooting laser beams out along both arms, then comparing the returned beams.
Grammie always grimaced when Grampie lit up one of his cigars inside the house. We kids grinned though because he’d soon be blowing smoke rings for us. Great fun to try poking a finger into the center, but we quickly learned that the ring itself vanished if we touched it.


For instance, suppose Fred and Ethel collaborate on a narwhale research project. Fred is based in San Diego CA and Ethel works out of Norfolk VA. They fly to meet their research vessel at the North Pole. Fred’s plane follows the green track, Ethel’s plane follows the yellow one. At the start of the trip, they’re on parallel paths going straight north (the dotted lines). After a few hours, though, Ethel notices the two planes pulling closer together.
The line rotates as a unit — every skater completes a 360o rotation in the same time. Similarly, everywhere on Earth a day lasts for exactly 24 hours.
Now suppose our speedy skater hits a slushy patch of ice. Her end of the line is slowed down, so what happens to the rest of the line? It deforms — there’s a new center of rotation that forces the entire line to curl around towards the slow spot. Similarly, that blob near the Equator in the split-Earth diagram curls in the direction of the slower-moving air to its north, which is counter-clockwise.
Newton definitely didn’t see that one coming. He has an excuse, though. No-one in in the 17th Century even realized that electricity is a thing, much less that the electrostatic force follows the same inverse-square law that gravity does. So there’s no way poor Isaac would have come up with quantum mechanics.
If Newton loved anything (and that question has been discussed at length), he loved an argument. His battle with Leibniz is legendary. He even fought with Descartes, who was a decade dead when Newton entered Cambridge.
in his Les Miz role of Inspector Javert, 
And then there’s 
Newton was essentially a geometer. These illustrations (from Book 1 of the Principia) will give you an idea of his style. He’d set himself a problem then solve it by constructing sometimes elaborate diagrams by which he could prove that certain components were equal or in strict proportion.
For instance, in the first diagram (Proposition II, Theorem II), we see an initial glimpse of his technique of successive approximation. He defines a sequence of triangles which as they proliferate get closer and closer to the curve he wants to characterize.
The third diagram is particularly relevant to the point I’ll finally get to when I get around to it. In Prop XLIV, Theorem XIV he demonstrates something weird. Suppose two objects A and B are orbiting around attractive center C, but B is moving twice as fast as A. If C exerts an additional force on B that is inversely dependent on the cube of the B-C distance, then A‘s orbit will be a perfect circle (yawn) but B‘s will be an ellipse that rotates around C, even though no external force pushes it laterally.
It all started with Newton’s mechanics, his study of how objects affect the motion of other objects. His vocabulary list included words like force, momentum, velocity, acceleration, mass, …, all concepts that seem familiar to us but which Newton either originated or fundamentally re-defined. As time went on, other thinkers added more terms like power, energy and action.
There is another way to get the same dimension expression but things aren’t not as nice there as they look at first glance. Action is given by the amount of energy expended in a given time interval, times the length of that interval. If you take the product of energy and time the dimensions work out as (ML2/T2)*T = ML2/T, just like Heisenberg’s Area.
For practice using Heisenberg’s Area, what can we say about the atom? (If you’re checking my math it’ll help to know that the Area, h/4π, can also be expressed as 0.5×10-34 kg m2/s; the mass of one hydrogen atom is 1.7×10-27 kg; and the speed of light is 3×108 m/s.) On average the atom’s position is at the cube’s center. Its position range is one meter wide. Whatever the atom’s average momentum might be, our measurements would be somewhere within a momentum range of (h/4π kg m2/s) / (1 m) = 0.5×10-34 kg m/s. A moving particle’s momentum is its mass times its velocity, so the velocity range is (0.5×10-34 kg m/s) / (1.7×10-27 kg) = 0.3×10-7 m/s.
elaborate mathematical structure. If the measurement is a quantum mechanical result, part of that structure is our familiar bell-shaped curve. It’s an explicit recognition that way down in the world of the very small, we can’t know what’s really going on. Most calculations have to be statistical, predicting an average and an expected range about that average. That prediction may or may not pan out, depending on what the experimentalists find.
So there could be a collection of bell-curves gathered about the experimental result. Remember those