"Ричард Фейнман. Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!/Вы, конечно, шутите, мистер Фейнман! (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора The result was, when guys at MIT or Princeton had trouble doing a
certain integral, it was because they couldn't do it with the standard methods they had learned in school. If it was contour integration, they would have found it; if it was a simple series expansion, they would have found it. Then I come along and try differentiating under the integral sign, and often it worked. So I got a great reputation for doing integrals, only because my box of tools was different from everybody else's, and they had tried all their tools on it before giving the problem to me. ---- Mindreaders My father was always interested in magic and carnival tricks, and wanting to see how they worked. One of the things he knew about was mindreaders. When he was a little boy, growing up in a small town called Patchogue, in the middle of Long Island, it was announced on advertisements posted all over that a mindreader was coming next Wednesday. The posters said that some respected citizens - the mayor, a judge, a banker - should take a five-dollar bill and hide it somewhere, and when the mindreader came to town, he would find it. When he came, the people gathered around to watch him do his work. He takes the hands of the banker and the judge, who had hidden the five-dollar bill, and starts to walk down the street. He gets to an intersection, turns He goes with them, always holding their hands, into the house, up to the second floor, into the right room, walks up to a bureau, lets go of their hands, opens the correct drawer, and there's the five-dollar bill. Very dramatic! In those days it was difficult to get a good education, so the mindreader was hired as a tutor for my father. Well, my father, after one of his lessons, asked the mindreader how he was able to find the money without anyone telling him where it was. The mindreader explained that you hold onto their hands, loosely, and as you move, you jiggle a little bit. You come to an intersection, where you can go forward, to the left, or to the right. You jiggle a little bit to the left, and if it's incorrect, you feel a certain amount of resistance, because they don't expect you to move that way. But when you move in the right direction, because they think you might be able to do it, they give way more easily, and there's no resistance. So you must always be jiggling a little bit, testing out which seems to be the easiest way. My father told me the story and said he thought it would still take a lot of practice. He never tried it himself. Later, when I was doing graduate work at Princeton, I decided to try it on a fellow named Bill Woodward. I suddenly announced that I was a mindreader, and could read his mind. I told him to go into the "laboratory" - a big room with rows of tables covered with equipment of various kinds, with electric circuits, tools, and junk all over the place - pick out a certain object, somewhere, and come out. I explained, "Now I'll read your |
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