Chen Chiu-min (陳秋民) can make a lightsaber out of a broken light tube in 10 minutes using just NT$1 worth of material. He can blow giant smoke rings with an air cannon, and create spectacular flames out of an old water heater. And he’s always eager to show visitors more, as he scurries in and out of his workshop at Soochow University (東吳大學), where his physics lectures are dubbed “magic performances.” A few minutes later, he’s playing Auld Lang Syne on a musical saw and making thunder sounds with a modified Pringles can.
Two hours into the “show,” I forget that I originally came to speak to Chen regarding the COVID-19 pandemic, as he cobbled together a cheap and easy-to-make ultraviolet disinfection device for face masks from household goods. He also made a portable automatic hand sanitizer dispenser from spare parts. But watching him chuckle to himself after demonstrating each device, it’s not hard to see why his infectious energy and creativity has made him one of the more popular professors on campus.
Most people call Chen “Goose Dad” (鵝爸). About two decades ago, his colleague’s pet geese were killed by stray dogs. They left behind a few eggs, which Chen personally hatched using an incubator made from lights and a temperature regulator he procured from discarded electronics. The goslings imprinted on his family and followed them around their neighborhood — and the nickname stuck even after the birds died.
Photo: Han Cheung, Taipei Times
Chen started tinkering as a child, making his first lightbulb out of automatic pencil lead in the fifth grade. But he failed to get into college twice, which led him to put extra effort in inspiring students that are intimidated by science and discouraged by poor grades. Not only is it important to make the material fun and relatable, he says a good teacher should be entertaining.
Besides practical inventions, most of his devices are used to demonstrate physics principles during class. When asked about his automated hand sanitizer, he says “I couldn’t find one so I made it myself. But the main purpose was to show it to the students and inspire their creativity.”
‘MACGYVER PHYSICS’
Photo: Han Cheung, Taipei Times
It’s somewhat cliche to nickname every person who likes tinkering and building things out of common objects a “MacGyver,” after the popular 1980s television series, but Chen says he actually has a class next semester called “MacGyver Physics.”
“One reason why students generally don’t like physics class is that the teachers make it too hard to understand,” he says. “My goal is not to train scientists; I want all students to be able to see and apply physics to their lives.”
The hallway leading to Chen’s workshop is lined with junk that he retrieves regularly from the school’s recycling center. “Look at this,” he says, turning on a ringing alarm with flashing red lights. “It still works. I don’t know why they threw it out.”
Photo: Han Cheung, Taipei Times
And his workspace, which is behind the physics demonstration classroom, is piled to the ceiling with home-made contraptions and spare parts.
Even when things are considered broken, Chen will tirelessly lug them back to this workshop. He explains to me how LED lights work as he repairs one in about five minutes.
“I have hundreds of these broken lights,” he says. “They’re not that difficult to fix. You’ll know how to do it after I show you.”
Photo: Han Cheung, Taipei Times
“I’m very environmentally conscious,” he adds while pulling up a video of a simple trash compressor he built. “I only need to take out the garbage twice a week. If everyone does this, will the government start charging by weight instead of by bag?”
Those who haven’t taken his classes should be familiar with the torch system he designed for the school’s anniversary festivities. Originally, they used a kerosene torch, which could be dangerous if the torchbearer tripped and spilled the liquid; Chen says they were hard to put out, so he built a safe, button-activated version using a tin can, stainless steel scrubber and a tennis racket handle with an adjustable flame. He spins the torch around as if it were a bo staff to show its effectiveness.
The last thing Chen shows me is the Olympics-style flame “cauldron” he made out of a broken water heater which he ignites with a garage door remote.
“People think the torch bearer lights the cauldron, but actually I’m controlling the flame,” he laughs. “I bring this machine to the festivities every March, but normally this is used to teach a very important topic in my lectures: the physics of gases.”
Before I eventually leave, Chen casually says: “You almost didn’t get to interview me. I had a heart attack last week.”
He certainly shows no sign of it.
Aug 15 to Aug 21 Within hours, a minor traffic dispute between two taxi drivers had escalated into a full-out street brawl involving hundreds of combatants. Armed with metal bats, car locks and even tear gas, the midnight battle on Aug. 17, 1995 between Chuan Ming (全民) and Beiqu (北區) taxi drivers associations lasted for over four hours at the roundabout on Tingzhou Road (汀州路) in Taipei. Scattered clashes also broke out in other areas of the capital, as well as in what is today’s New Taipei City. The crowd dispersed around 4:30am, but peace lasted only a few hours. Around 7am, about
Chris Findler says that the introduction of neural machine translation software has reduced the demand for human translators. “I am pessimistic about the future of traditional translation jobs,” says Findler, a lecturer of translation and interpretation at National Taiwan Normal University (NTNU). Online translators such as DeepL Translator, Yandex and Babylon offer accurate translations in dozens of languages, which means that a human translator may no longer be necessary for some jobs. Machine translation software’s growing influence is irreversible. Translation software can utilize artificial neural networks and large databases in order to accurately predict sequences of words and provide nuanced expressions
It’s baking hot in New York, which can only mean one thing for the city’s small mammal population: it’s splooting season. This week, with temperatures reaching 35 degrees Celsius, the city’s parks department urged residents not to worry about the health of squirrels seen sprawling on the ground, legs extended behind them like a person whose arms gave out halfway through a yoga class. “On hot days, squirrels keep cool by splooting (stretching out) on cool surfaces to reduce body heat,” the department tweeted. Perhaps even more remarkable than the phenomenon itself was the word the government agency used. Splooting? Is that
When Zuo tested positive for COVID-19 while working as a cleaner in one of Shanghai’s largest quarantine centers, she hoped it wouldn’t be long before she could pick up the mop and start earning again. But four months on, she is still fighting to get her job back — one of scores of recovering COVID patients facing what labor rights activists and health experts say is a widespread form of discrimination in zero-COVID China. Using snap lockdowns and mass testing, China is the last major economy still pursuing the goal of stamping out the virus completely. Those who test positive, as well
RSS