To evolve, or not to evolve: that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of coherent waves, Or to take arms against superpositions, And by observing end them? To observe; to evolve--- No more; and by a measurement to say we end The mixed states and the thousand natural shocks NMR is heir to, 'tis a computation Devoutly to be wish'd. To evolve, to run; Perchance to decohere---ay, there's the rub; For in too long a run what waves may come When they have shuffled off magnetic coil, Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long runs; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, Qubits flipped wrong, the proud man's "quantumly", But that the dread of something after halting, The undiscover'd light cone from whose bourn No classical info returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather study those models we know Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus deadlines do make cowards of us all; And thus the native hue of evolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their funding turns awry, To lose the name of action.---Soft you now! The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy bra and kets Be all my states remember'd.
Friday, October 18, 2002
Quantum Parody of Shakespeare's Hamlet III.i
To end the week I give you the following presented by Ken Regan at the Dagstuhl meeting.