Arma Higgsque Cano

I was happily plowing through Virgil's Aeneid when my physicist son Mark called from Switzerland, all agog about determining the existence of the Higgs Bosun. Hence the title of this report -- the 'arma' will become clear in a moment.**

I congratulated him and the other scientists at CERN, while at the same time a memory suddenly flooded into my mind. After he had rung off, still all excited, I recalled one of the first times the search for this elusive particle had focused my attention.

Now Peter Higgs had hypothesized the existence of this particle in 1964, on the grounds that if it didn't exist, there would be no mass to any other particle, hence no electrons, no atoms, no us. This approach to the universe is known as the Standard Model, and the Higgs Bosun is absolutely critical to its being taken seriously. All of which was in a sense germane to what happened in Mississippi about a decade ago.

Matilda Hatt of the CIA had asked for my help in uncovering an arms ring operating in Mississippi, and Sir Harry, my immediate boss in MI 6, had sanctioned this (wonder what he got in return?) so I was off to the Deep South. Now the CIA cannot operate within the U.S.A., and therefore Tilly had been seconded to the FBI for this operation. How this came about Tilly would dearly love to know to this day -- the two organizations operate within a Hatfield / McCoy context -- although she has her suspicions. Apparently there were rumours of sexual shenanigans in the CIA, and the FBI had found out some of the details. But she isn't sure, and after all, rumour is a bloodstain on silk.

A venue had been identified as a hangout of some of the perpetrators, a rather seedy bar on the outskirts of Biloxi. We needed some of the bar patrons to open up about the logistics of the arms operation. Tilly had rented a semi, with 'Tara Cotton Inc.' emblazoned on the side. We wore jean shorts and had on our T-shirts with the message 'Truckers For Christ'  prominently displayed. Tilly eased the big rig into the parking lot, and we entered the dimness of the bar, confident that we would be welcomed.

This proved the case, and the guys were generous in buying us several what they termed 'B and B's', to wit: local beer with a shot of bourbon. Both Tilly and I knew how to appear to drink without actually doing so, and no, not possible to relay the specifics -- the technique is still in use today in The Trade.

There was a TV set over the bar, and that's when a news item mentioned Peter Higgs, CERN and the search for the Higgs bosun. Elmer, one of our bar mates, asked the barkeep to turn the volume up, but the  news item had gone, to be replaced on the latest pork belly prices.

"I knew him, you see," said Elmer in words that were somewhat slurred.

"Knew who?" I asked.

"Billy Bob Craig," he replied. "He was the boatswain on the U.S.S. Higgs. I wonder why he, the Higgs bos'un, made the news?"

Tilly and I were dumbfounded, but let it pass. We still had work to do. When we had found out what we needed to know, we left, but the incident sticks in my mind. Oh, and shortly after, the FBI conducted a very successful raid, putting paid to the whole arms ring.

As for the Higgs bosun, I note that another name for it is 'the God Particle', and again I fail to understand that when anything that is of scientific interest, religion has to stick its barnacle-encrusted oar into it. On the other hand, the particle conceivably have links to existence itself, and I recall from my days at Oxford a quote from one of the Dons:

"I exist!" the man exclaimed to the universe.

And the universe replied, "Well, I'm sorry, but I don't feel any sense of obligation."

Rimshot.

** The Lady's title is a play on the opening line of the Aeneid, Arma virumque cano -- 'I sing of arms and the man.' --ed.