Elaine Meinel Supkis
I finally go to listen to the 'music' of the sun and it sounded like just one monotonous note: E flat, I would guess, more or less. This reminded me of the huge black hole in the Perseus sector that plays B flat. So I thought it would be fun to have some music of the spheres here.
Immense coils of hot, electrified gas in the Sun's atmosphere behave like a musical instrument, scientists say.
These "coronal loops" carry acoustic waves in much the same way that sound is carried through a pipe organ.
Solar explosions called micro-flares generate sound booms which are then propagated along the coronal loops.
I listened carefully and then went to the piano and tried to reproduce it. As I thought, it was sort of E flat to E major, namely, it has some depth to it, the vibrations are not as clear as a bell or a plucked string but more like the roar of a waterfall. Indeed, describing this irritating noise as 'music' was a big stretch or maybe it sounded like those ghetto boom boxes so beloved by tone deaf kids trying to blast the neighborhood but instead, blasted out their speakers.
From the BBC:
"These loops can be up to 100 million kilometres long and guide waves and oscillations in a similar way to a pipe organ," said Dr Youra Taroyan, from the Solar Physics and Space Plasma Research Centre (SP2RC) at the University of Sheffield.
The sound booms decay in less than an hour and dissipate in the very hot solar corona.
To make news, people have to kind of stretch the poetry a tad. And in this case, saying the sun's disturbances 'roar' would have a lot less impact than 'music like a church organ.' I looked up some other E flat information just for fun. So while reading this, we can listen to Beethoven's E flat Symphony #3
E flat major is often associated with bold, heroic music, in part because of Beethoven's usage. His Eroica Symphony and his Emperor Concerto are both in this key.
Another reason is that it is a very good key for brass instruments (valveless 19th-century brass instruments specifically constructed to sound in this key were found to produce the most satisfying tone color). Thus, three of Mozart's completed horn concerti and Joseph Haydn's famous Trumpet Concerto are in E flat major, and so is Anton Bruckner's Fourth Symphony with its prominent horn theme in the first movement. Another famous heroic piece in the key of E flat major is Richard Strauss's Ein Heldenleben (A Hero's Life).
Listening to the sun heroically roaring was truly soul-lifting. The hero rises! Or rather, bellows into our ears. The sun's choice of pitch is also magical and inspirational.
Such was the Masonic milieu when Wolfgang Mozart became a Master Mason.He must have been greatly moved and inspired by his experience. Almost immediately he composed his Freemason's Funeral Music and his music for the opening and closing of a Lodge. He now composed his opera, Don Giovanni, and his three great symphonies - the E flat, the G minor and the C major, as well as a great number of concertos and chamber-music works.
His last great opera, The Magic Flute, opened in Vienna on the evening of September 30, 1791. Mozart conducted the first two performances, when he was overtaken by his last illness. He lingered on while the opera had an unprecedented run of more than one hundred consecutive performances. It is said that in his sick bed, watch in hand, he would follow in imagination the performance of The Magic Flute in the theatre. Then he died after its 67th performance.
Well, so we now can worry about the sun being part of the Masonic conspiracy? Yes, they have the sun's rays on that pyramid with the eyeball on our dollar bills. The Japanese flag is the rising sun. Sunday is the day Christians go to Church! Sundaes are icecream dishes that make you very fat and are too tempting! Yes, this is leading to something big...
A truly enormous collection of thousands of galaxies, the Perseus Cluster - like other large galaxy clusters - is filled with hot, x-ray emitting gas. The x-ray hot gas (not the individual galaxies) appears in the left panel above, a false color image from the Chandra Observatory. The bright central source flanked by two dark cavities is the cluster's supermassive black hole. At right, the panel shows the x-ray image data specially processed to enhance contrasts and reveals a strikingly regular pattern of pressure waves rippling through the hot gas. In other words, sound waves, likely generated by bursts of activity from the black hole, are ringing through the Perseus Galaxy Cluster. Astronomers infer that these previously unknown sound waves are a source of energy which keeps the cluster gas so hot. So what note is the Perseus Cluster playing? Estimates of the distance between the wave peaks and sound speed in the cluster gas suggests the cosmic note is about 57 octaves below B-flat above middle C.
So, black holes are B flat. This sound is not noble, it is a 'splat' sound. Squish. Oozing in the lower registers, so deep in sound in this case, only creatures with special ears can hear it. Like elephants who make very deep noises far away from each other and we can't hear it nearly at all but their huge ears can and then there are whales who can hear very deep sounds from across the Pacific Ocean, watery pulsations.
During World War II, the New York Philharmonic was visiting the American Museum of Natural History. During rehearsal, somebody played a note that upset a resident live alligator named Oscar. Oscar, who'd been in the museum on 81st Street, suddenly began to bellow. Naturally, with so many scientists in residence, an experiment was quickly devised to see how to get Oscar to bellow again. Various musicians — string, percussive and brass — were brought to Oscar to play various notes. It turned out the culprit was B flat, one octave below middle C.
Alligators and probably Tyrannosaurus Rexes probably all love B flat. Probably they roar along because it is a love song to them or maybe a challenge to a duel. Certainly, I would not suggest going back in time and blowing a horn at B flat in the Jurassic era.
One big tuning fork! I would love to visit that place just to fool around. When we were young, we would go into the various observatories when no one was around to be bothered and would try to discover which pitches echoed the best. Naturally, we would yell, 'Pinnochio!' in these different pitches, being enamoured by the cartoon's whale. No wonder we would get ejected. Heh.