I'd like to invite you to close your eyes.
Palun, et sulgeksite oma silmad.
Imagine yourself standing outside the front door of your home. I'd like you to notice the color of the door, the material that it's made out of. Now visualize a pack of overweight nudists on bicycles.
Kujutlege, et seisate oma kodu uksel. Pange tähele, mis värvi see uks on ja millest see uks on tehtud. Nüüd kujutage ette trobikonda ülekaalulisi nudiste jalgratastel.
(Laughter)
Nad võistlevad alastisõidu rattarallil
They are competing in a naked bicycle race, and they are headed straight for your front door. I need you to actually see this. They are pedaling really hard, they're sweaty, they're bouncing around a lot. And they crash straight into the front door of your home. Bicycles fly everywhere, wheels roll past you, spokes end up in awkward places. Step over the threshold of your door into your foyer, your hallway, whatever's on the other side, and appreciate the quality of the light. The light is shining down on Cookie Monster. Cookie Monster is waving at you from his perch on top of a tan horse. It's a talking horse. You can practically feel his blue fur tickling your nose. You can smell the oatmeal raisin cookie that he's about to shovel into his mouth. Walk past him. Walk past him into your living room. In your living room, in full imaginative broadband, picture Britney Spears. She is scantily clad, she's dancing on your coffee table, and she's singing "Hit Me Baby One More Time." And then, follow me into your kitchen. In your kitchen, the floor has been paved over with a yellow brick road, and out of your oven are coming towards you Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Scarecrow and the Lion from "The Wizard of Oz," hand-in-hand, skipping straight towards you.
ja sööstavad otse su ukse suunas. Ma tahan, et te ka tegelikult seda näeksite. Nad väntavad elu eest, nad on üleni higised, nende kehad rappuvad sadulas. Ja nad panevad täie hooga otse vastu sinu ust. Jalgrattad paiskuvad õhku, üksikud rattad veerevad sinust mööda, kõik kohad on kodaraid täis. Astu uksest sisse, esikusse või koridori või mis täpselt seal teiselpool ust siis ka poleks ja imetle kaunist valgust. Valgusvihus on Cookie Monster. Cookie Monster istub beežika hobuse seljas ja lehvitab sulle. See on rääkiv hobune. Võid peaaegu tunda, kuidas Cookie Monsteri sinine karvakasukas su nina kõdistab. Tunned rosina-kaeraküpsise lõhna, mille ta on just endale suhu pistmas. Mine temast mööda. Mine mööda ja astu elutuppa. Elutoas näed kogu tema hiilguses Britney Spearsi. Ta on napis riietuses ja tantsib su diivanilaual, lauldes "Hit Me Baby One More Time" Nüüd tule minuga kööki. Köögipõrand on kaetud kollaste tänavakividega ja ahjust astuvad välja Dorothy, Plekkmees, Hernehirmutis ja Lõvi "Võlur Oz"-ist nad tulevad käsikäes hüpeldes otse sinu suunas.
Okay. Open your eyes.
Okei. Ava oma silmad.
I want to tell you about a very bizarre contest that is held every spring in New York City. It's called the United States Memory Championship. And I had gone to cover this contest a few years back as a science journalist, expecting, I guess, that this was going to be like the Superbowl of savants. This was a bunch of guys and a few ladies, widely varying in both age and hygienic upkeep.
Tahan sulle rääkida ühest üsna omapärasest võistlusest mis toimub igal kevadel New Yorkis. Tegu on USA mälumeistrivõistlustega. Mõned aastad tagasi tuli mul teadusajakirjanikuna kirjutada lugu sellest võistlusest. Kujutasin ette, et see konkurss on mingisugustele veidrikele. Oli seltskond meesterahvaid, sekka ka mõned naised, kõik eri vanuses ja erinevas puhtusastmes.
(Laughter)
(Naer)
They were memorizing hundreds of random numbers, looking at them just once. They were memorizing the names of dozens and dozens and dozens of strangers. They were memorizing entire poems in just a few minutes. They were competing to see who could memorize the order of a shuffled pack of playing cards the fastest. I was like, this is unbelievable. These people must be freaks of nature.
Nad jätsid meelde sadu juhuslikke arve ainult korraks peale vaadates. Nad õppisid pähe kümnete ja kümnete tundmatute nimesid. Luuletused jäid neile pähe kõigest mõne minutiga. Võisteldi, kes suudab kõige kiiremini meelde jätta kaartide järjestuse segatud kaardipakis. See kõik tundus mulle täiesti uskumatu. Need inimesed peavad olema ebanormaalsed.
And I started talking to a few of the competitors. This is a guy called Ed Cook, who had come over from England, where he had one of the best-trained memories. And I said to him, "Ed, when did you realize that you were a savant?" And Ed was like, "I'm not a savant. In fact, I have just an average memory. Everybody who competes in this contest will tell you that they have just an average memory. We've all trained ourselves to perform these utterly miraculous feats of memory using a set of ancient techniques, techniques invented 2,500 years ago in Greece, the same techniques that Cicero had used to memorize his speeches, that medieval scholars had used to memorize entire books." And I said, "Whoa. How come I never heard of this before?"
Tegin juttu mõne võistlejaga. See on Ed Cook kes tuli siia Inglismaalt kus ta on üks kõige treenituma mäluga inimesi. Küsisin temalt:" Ed, millal sa aru said, et sul on ebanormaalne anne?" Ed vastas:" Ma ei ole mingi eriline veidrikust geenius, tegelikult on mul üsna keskpärane mälu. Kõik, kes siin võistlevad, kinnitavad sulle, et nende mälu täiesti keskmine. Nende erakordsete mäluülesannete sooritamiseks oleme kõik harjutanud ühe väga vana meetodi abil see meetod leiutati Kreekas 2500 aastat tagasi. Cicero kasutas sama meetodit, oma kõnede meeldejätmiseks, keskaegsed õpetlased jätsid sel moel meelde terveid raamatuid." Olin hämmingus. "Mis mõttes? Kuidas ma pole varem sellest midagi kuulnud?"
And we were standing outside the competition hall, and Ed, who is a wonderful, brilliant, but somewhat eccentric English guy, says to me, "Josh, you're an American journalist. Do you know Britney Spears?" I'm like, "What? No. Why?" "Because I really want to teach Britney Spears how to memorize the order of a shuffled pack of playing cards on U.S. national television. It will prove to the world that anybody can do this."
Nii me siis seal võistluspaiga ukse taga seisime ja Ed, kes on imetore, tark, aga veidi ekstsentriline Inglise tüüp ütleb mulle: "Josh, sina kui Ameerika ajakirjanik, Kas Sa Britney Spearsi tunned?" Mina vastu, et "Mida!? Ei! Miks sa seda küsid?" "Sest ma tahaksin väga õpetada USA televisioonis Britney Spearsile, kuidas jätta meelde mängukaartide järjekord segatud kaardipakis. See tõestaks kogu maailmale, et igaüks võib sellega hakkama saada."
(Laughter)
(Naer)
I was like, "Well, I'm not Britney Spears, but maybe you could teach me. I mean, you've got to start somewhere, right?" And that was the beginning of a very strange journey for me.
Vastasin, et mina küll pole Britney Spears, aga äkki ta võiks hoopis mind õpetada, sest kuskilt peab ju pihta hakkama, eks ole? Selline oligi mu väga kummalise teekonna algus.
I ended up spending the better part of the next year not only training my memory, but also investigating it, trying to understand how it works, why it sometimes doesn't work, and what its potential might be.
Asi lõppes sellega, et terve järgneva aasta kulutasin oma mälu treenimise kõrval ka sellele, et uurida mälu toimimist ja ka seda miks mälu teinekord ei tööta ja milline on mälu tegelik potentsiaal.
And I met a host of really interesting people. This is a guy called E.P. He's an amnesic who had, very possibly, the worst memory in the world. His memory was so bad, that he didn't even remember he had a memory problem, which is amazing. And he was this incredibly tragic figure, but he was a window into the extent to which our memories make us who we are.
Kohtusin mitmete erakordselt huvitavate inimestega Selle mehe nimi on E.P. Tal kannatas vaegmälu all ja tõenäoliselt oligi tal maailma halvim mälu. Tema mälu oli nii vilets, et ta ei mäletanud isegi oma mäluprobleemi, mis on täiesti hämmastav. Ta oli üks tõeliselt õnnetu kuju, aga samas on tänu temale võimalik mõista, kui suurel määral sõltub meie põhiolemus meie mälust.
At the other end of the spectrum, I met this guy. This is Kim Peek, he was the basis for Dustin Hoffman's character in the movie "Rain Man." We spent an afternoon together in the Salt Lake City Public Library memorizing phone books, which was scintillating.
Nüüd aga skaala teine äärmus. Sain tuttavaks selle mehega. Tema on Kim Peek Ta oli filmis "Vihmamees" Dustin Hoffmanni tegelaskuju prototüüp. Veetsime üheskoos ühe pärastlõuna Salt Lake City raamatukogus telefoniraamatuid pähe õppides. See oli ülipõnev.
(Laughter)
(Naer)
And I went back and I read a whole host of memory treatises, treatises written 2,000-plus years ago in Latin, in antiquity, and then later, in the Middle Ages. And I learned a whole bunch of really interesting stuff. One of the really interesting things that I learned is that once upon a time, this idea of having a trained, disciplined, cultivated memory was not nearly so alien as it would seem to us to be today. Once upon a time, people invested in their memories, in laboriously furnishing their minds.
Siis lugesin läbi terve hunniku mälu-uurimusi, mis olid kirjutatud üle 2000 aasta tagasi antiikajal, ladina keeles, ja ka hiljem, keskkajal. Sain teada nii mõndagi põnevat. Üks erakordselt huvitav avastus oli see, et vanasti ei olnud mõte sellest, et mälu tuleks treenida ja harida pooltki nii võõras, kui see tundub meile tänapäeval. Vanasti tegelesid inimesed oma mäluga, ja tegid selle kallal tõsist tööd.
Over the last few millenia, we've invented a series of technologies -- from the alphabet, to the scroll, to the codex, the printing press, photography, the computer, the smartphone -- that have made it progressively easier and easier for us to externalize our memories, for us to essentially outsource this fundamental human capacity. These technologies have made our modern world possible, but they've also changed us. They've changed us culturally, and I would argue that they've changed us cognitively. Having little need to remember anymore, it sometimes seems like we've forgotten how.
Viimaste aastatuhandete jooksul oleme leiutanud rea tehnoloogiaid - esmalt tähestik, siis käsikiri, seejärel raamatu eelkäijad, edasi trükipress, fotograafia, arvuti ja nutitelefon - mis kõik on üha enam ja enam hõlbustanud meelespidamist välismälu abil. Oleme loovutanud selle fundamentaalse inimvõime millelegi väljaspoolsele. Kõik need tehnoloogiad an aluseks kaasaegsele maailmale aga nad on ka meid muutnud. Nad on meid muutnud nii kultuuriliselt kui ka kognitiivses mõttes. Kuna meil ei ole enam vajadust asju meelde jätta, tundub mõnikord, et oleme unustanud, kuidas see meeldejätmine üldse käib,
One of the last places on Earth where you still find people passionate about this idea of a trained, disciplined, cultivated memory, is at this totally singular memory contest. It's actually not that singular, there are contests held all over the world. And I was fascinated, I wanted to know how do these guys do it.
Üks viimaseid kohti siin maa peal, kust võib endiselt leida inimesi, kes suhtuvad kirglikult ideesse, et mälu peaks olema treenitud, distsiplineeritud ja haritud, ongi see üksainus mäluvõistlus. Tegelikult pole see siiski mitte ainus omataoline, sellelaadseid võistlusi toimub kõikjal maailmas. Olin täiesti pahviks löödud ning tahtsin teada, kuidas nad seda teevad.
A few years back a group of researchers at University College London brought a bunch of memory champions into the lab. They wanted to know: Do these guys have brains that are somehow structurally, anatomically different from the rest of ours? The answer was no. Are they smarter than the rest of us? They gave them a bunch of cognitive tests, and the answer was: not really.
Mõni aasta tagasi kutsusid Londoni Ülikooli teadlased grupi mälutšempione oma laboratooriumisse. Teadlased tahtsid teada kas mälutšempionite aju on oma anatoomiliselt ülesehituselt kuidagi erinev tavainimese ajust. Vastus oli ei. Aga kas nad on targemad kui meie? Mälutšempionid tegid mitmeid kognitiivseid teste mille tulemustest selgus, et tegelikult mitte.
There was, however, one really interesting and telling difference between the brains of the memory champions and the control subjects that they were comparing them to. When they put these guys in an fMRI machine, scanned their brains while they were memorizing numbers and people's faces and pictures of snowflakes, they found that the memory champions were lighting up different parts of the brain than everyone else. Of note, they were using, or they seemed to be using, a part of the brain that's involved in spatial memory and navigation. Why? And is there something that the rest of us can learn from this?
Siiski oli üks huvitav ja kõnekas erinevus mälutšempionite ja nendega võrreldud kontrollgrupi aju vahel. Kui mälutšempionite aju uuriti kompuutertomograafiga sel ajal kui nad jätsid meelde numbreid, inimeste nimesid ja lumehelveste pilte, avastati, et mälutšempionite ajus muutusid aktiivseks teistsugused aju piirkonnad kui ülejäänutel. Paistis, et nad kasutasid, või siis tundusid kasutavat aju seda osa, mis tegeleb ruumilise mälu ja ruumis orienteerumisega. Aga miks? Kas siin on midagi, millest saaksime õppida?
The sport of competitive memorizing is driven by a kind of arms race where, every year, somebody comes up with a new way to remember more stuff more quickly, and then the rest of the field has to play catch-up.
Mäluvõistlused kui spordiala on justkui võidurelvastumine, kus igal aastal tuleb keegi välja uue meetodiga mis aitab asju senisest veelgi kiiremini meelde jätta ja ülejäänud peavad siis üritama teda kinni püüda.
This is my friend Ben Pridmore, three-time world memory champion. On his desk in front of him are 36 shuffled packs of playing cards that he is about to try to memorize in one hour, using a technique that he invented and he alone has mastered. He used a similar technique to memorize the precise order of 4,140 random binary digits in half an hour.
See on mu sõber Ben Pridmore, kolmekordne mälu maailmameister. Tema ees laual on 36 pakki hästi segatud mängukaarte, mille ta üritab ühe tunni jooksul meelde jätta, meetodil, mille ta ise välja mõtles ja mida valdab ainult tema. Ta kasutas sama meetodit, et jätta meelde 4140 juhusliku biti täpne järjestus
(Laughter)
poole tunniga.
Yeah.
Jee.
And while there are a whole host of ways of remembering stuff in these competitions, everything, all of the techniques that are being used, ultimately come down to a concept that psychologists refer to as "elaborative encoding."
Kuigi on palju mälutehnikaid mida neil võistlustel kasutatakse, taanduvad kõik need meetodid lõpuks ühele kontseptsioonile, mida psühholoogid nimetavad töötlevaks salvestamiseks.
And it's well-illustrated by a nifty paradox known as the Baker/baker paradox, which goes like this: If I tell two people to remember the same word, if I say to you, "Remember that there is a guy named Baker." That's his name. And I say to you, "Remember that there is a guy who is a baker." Okay? And I come back to you at some point later on, and I say, "Do you remember that word that I told you a while back? Do you remember what it was?" The person who was told his name is Baker is less likely to remember the same word than the person was told his job is a baker. Same word, different amount of remembering; that's weird. What's going on here?
Selle heaks näiteks on üks elegantne paradoks mida tuntakse Baker/baker paradoksina, ja mille sisu on järgmine: Kui paluda kahel inimesel jätta meelde üks ja sama sõna, näiteks ütlen sulle: "Jäta meele, et selle mehe nimi on Baker." See on ta nimi. Ja siis ütlen ma "Jäta meelde, et see mees on pagar." Ning mõne aja pärast tulen ja küsin, kas sa mäletad seda sõna, mida ma sulle mõni aeg tagasi ütlesin? "Kas sa mäletad, mis see sõna oli?" See, kellele öeldi, et mehe nimi on Baker, mäletas sama sõna väiksema tõenäosusega kui see, kellele öeldi, et see mees töötab pagarina (ingl k Baker). Täpselt sama sõna, aga erinev tulemus meenutamisel - kas pole kummaline? Millega on siin tegu?
Well, the name Baker doesn't actually mean anything to you. It is entirely untethered from all of the other memories floating around in your skull. But the common noun "baker" -- we know bakers. Bakers wear funny white hats. Bakers have flour on their hands. Bakers smell good when they come home from work. Maybe we even know a baker. And when we first hear that word, we start putting these associational hooks into it, that make it easier to fish it back out at some later date. The entire art of what is going on in these memory contests, and the entire art of remembering stuff better in everyday life, is figuring out ways to transform capital B Bakers into lower-case B bakers -- to take information that is lacking in context, in significance, in meaning, and transform it in some way, so that it becomes meaningful in the light of all the other things that you have in your mind.
Tõtt-öelda ei tähenda nimi Baker teile ju midagi. Sel ei ole mingit seost teiste mälupiltidega, mis teie peas hõljuvad. Aga kui võtta seda kui tavalist nimisõna - pagar, siis ju teame, kes pagar on. Pagaritel on naljakad valged mütsid. Pagaritel on jahused käed. Pagarid lõhnavad hästi kui nad töölt tulevad. Võib-olla me isegi tunneme mõnda pagarit. Ja kui kuuleme seda sõna, siis haagime sinna külge kõik oma senised mälupildid, mille abil on seda hiljem kergem meelde tuletada. Kogu kunst seisnebki selles, - ja see kehtib nii mäluvõistluste kui ka igapäevases elus asjade meeldejätmise kohta, et tuleb leida viis, kuidas muuta suure tähega Pagar väikese tähega pagariks. Teisisõnu, info, millel puudub meie jaoks kontekst ja tähendus tuleb muuta selliseks, et sel infol tekiks meie jaoks tähendus, seostudes juba mälus olemasolevaga.
One of the more elaborate techniques for doing this dates back 2,500 years to Ancient Greece. It came to be known as the memory palace. The story behind its creation goes like this:
Üks üksikasjalikumaid mnemotehnikaid selle saavutamiseks pärineb 2500 aasta tagusest antiik-Kreekast. Seda meetodit tuntakse mälupalee-tehnikana. Mälupalee tehnika tekkimise lugu on järgmine:
There was a poet called Simonides, who was attending a banquet. He was actually the hired entertainment, because back then, if you wanted to throw a really slamming party, you didn't hire a D.J., you hired a poet. And he stands up, delivers his poem from memory, walks out the door, and at the moment he does, the banquet hall collapses. Kills everybody inside. It doesn't just kill everybody, it mangles the bodies beyond all recognition. Nobody can say who was inside, nobody can say where they were sitting. The bodies can't be properly buried. It's one tragedy compounding another. Simonides, standing outside, the sole survivor amid the wreckage, closes his eyes and has this realization, which is that in his mind's eye, he can see where each of the guests at the banquet had been sitting. And he takes the relatives by the hand, and guides them each to their loved ones amid the wreckage.
Elas kord poeet, kelle nimi oli Simonides, ja kes läks peole. Ta oli seal peol tegelikult tellitud esinejana, sest vanal ajal oli nii, et kui taheti korraldada tõeliselt vinge pidu, siis telliti DJ asemel hoopis luuletaja. Niisiis tõuseb ta püsti, esitab peast oma luuletuse ja lahkub. Täpsel sel momendil, kui ta uksest väljub, variseb peosaal kokku ja kõik seesolijad hukkuvad. Ja nad mitte lihtsalt ei huku vaid nende kehad on varingus äratundmatuseni moondunud Keegi ei suuda öelda, kes seal sees olid, samuti ei ole võimalik öelda, kus keegi istus. Surnukehasid ei ole võimalik nagu kord ja kohus matta. Üks tragöödia teise otsa. Simonides, kes seisab väljas, on nende varemete keskel ainus ellujääja ta suleb silmad ja näeb oma ettekujutuses täie selgusega kes peokülalistest kuskil istus. Ja ta võtab sugulastel käest ning juhib igaühe neist tema lähedase juurde.
What Simonides figured out at that moment, is something that I think we all kind of intuitively know, which is that, as bad as we are at remembering names and phone numbers, and word-for-word instructions from our colleagues, we have really exceptional visual and spatial memories. If I asked you to recount the first 10 words of the story that I just told you about Simonides, chances are you would have a tough time with it. But, I would wager that if I asked you to recall who is sitting on top of a talking tan horse in your foyer right now, you would be able to see that.
See, mida Simonides tol hetkel mõistis, on midagi, mida me tegelikult sisimas teame. Nimelt - ükskõik kui viletsad me ka poleks nimede ja numbrite või kolleegide õpetussõnade meeldetjätmises, on meil tegelikult erakordne visuaalne ja ruumiline mälu. Kui ma paluksin teil meenutada Simonidese loo esimest 10 sõna, siis tõenäoliselt valmistaks see raskusi. Aga võiksin kihla vedada, et kui ma paluksin sul meenutada, kes istus rääkiva pruuni hobuse seljas sinu esikus, näeksid sa seda kohemaid.
The idea behind the memory palace is to create this imagined edifice in your mind's eye, and populate it with images of the things that you want to remember -- the crazier, weirder, more bizarre, funnier, raunchier, stinkier the image is, the more unforgettable it's likely to be. This is advice that goes back 2,000-plus years to the earliest Latin memory treatises.
Mälupalee mõte ongi selles, et peas luuakse kujutletav ehitis ja sisustatakse see nende asjade kujutistega, mida soovitakse meelde jätta - mida pöörasem, veidram, imelikum, naljakam, riivatum ja haisvam see kujutis on, seda paremini ta meelde jääb. See õpetus pärineb enam kui 2500 aasta tagant vanimatest ladina mälu-uurimustest.
So how does this work? Let's say that you've been invited to TED center stage to give a speech, and you want to do it from memory, and you want to do it the way that Cicero would have done it, if he had been invited to TEDxRome 2,000 years ago.
Kuidas see tehnika töötab? Ütleme, et Sind on kutsutud pidama TEDi kõnet ja sa tahad seda teha peast ning sellisel tasemel, nagu Cicero, kui ta oleks pidanud esinema Rooma TEDxil 2000 aastat tagasi
(Laughter)
Sa võiksid teha nii,
What you might do is picture yourself at the front door of your house. And you'd come up with some sort of crazy, ridiculous, unforgettable image, to remind you that the first thing you want to talk about is this totally bizarre contest.
et kujutled end seismas oma maja välisuksel. Ja siis mõtled välja mingi täiesti pöörase, napaka ja meeldejääva kujutise, mis aitaks sul meelde tuletada, et esimene asi, millest tahad rääkida on see äärmiselt veider võistlus.
(Laughter)
Siis lähed sa majja sisse
And then you'd go inside your house, and you would see an image of Cookie Monster on top of Mister Ed. And that would remind you that you would want to then introduce your friend Ed Cook. And then you'd see an image of Britney Spears to remind you of this funny anecdote you want to tell. And you'd go into your kitchen, and the fourth topic you were going to talk about was this strange journey that you went on for a year, and you'd have some friends to help you remember that.
ja näed Cookie Monsterit hobuse nimega Mister Ed seljas. Ning see meenutaks sulle, et tahad rääkida oma sõbrast Ed Cookist. Siis näed sa oma vaimusilmas Britney Spearsi, mis meenutab seda naljakat lugu, mida tahtsid rääkida. Siis lähed kööki ja neljas teema, millest tahtsid rääkida, on kummaline teekond, mille sa aastaga läbi tegid ja need sõbrad aitavad sul seda meenutada.
This is how Roman orators memorized their speeches -- not word-for-word, which is just going to screw you up, but topic-for-topic. In fact, the phrase "topic sentence" -- that comes from the Greek word "topos," which means "place." That's a vestige of when people used to think about oratory and rhetoric in these sorts of spatial terms. The phrase "in the first place," that's like "in the first place of your memory palace."
Nii jätsid ka Rooma oraatorid meelde oma kõnesid - mitte sõna-sõnalt, millest ei oleks abi, vaid teemade kaupa. Tegelikult tuleb ingliskeelne sõna "topic" kreekakeelsest sõnast "topos". mis tähendab "koht". See on pärand ajast kui inimesed mõtlesid oraatorlusest ja retoorikast pigem ruumilistes terministes. Öeldes "esiteks" tähistab see juskui esimest kohta su mälupalees.
I thought this was just fascinating, and I got really into it. And I went to a few more of these memory contests, and I had this notion that I might write something longer about this subculture of competitive memorizers. But there was a problem. The problem was that a memory contest is a pathologically boring event.
Mulle meeldis see kõik väga ja hakkasin sellega tõsisemalt tegelema. Osalesin veel mitmel mäluvõistlusel. Tekkis mõtte, et võiksin kirjutada midagi pikemat mäluvõistlustel osalejatest. Oli aga üks probleem. Nimelt on mäluvõistlus erakordselt igav üritus.
(Laughter)
(Naer)
Truly, it is like a bunch of people sitting around taking the SATs -- I mean, the most dramatic it gets is when somebody starts massaging their temples. And I'm a journalist, I need something to write about. I know that there's incredible stuff happening in these people's minds, but I don't have access to it.
Tõsiselt, see on nagu hulk inimesi istuks ja teeks eksamit. Kõige põnevam, mis võib juhtuda, on see, kui keegi hakkab oma oimukohti masseerima. Olen ju ajakirjanik ja pean millestki kirjutadama. Tean, et nende inimeste peades toimub uskumatuid asju, aga sinna ma ju ei pääse.
And I realized, if I was going to tell this story, I needed to walk in their shoes a little bit. And so I started trying to spend 15 or 20 minutes every morning, before I sat down with my New York Times, just trying to remember something. Maybe it was a poem, maybe it was names from an old yearbook that I bought at a flea market. And I found that this was shockingly fun. I never would have expected that. It was fun because this is actually not about training your memory. What you're doing, is you're trying to get better and better at creating, at dreaming up, these utterly ludicrous, raunchy, hilarious, and hopefully unforgettable images in your mind's eye. And I got pretty into it.
Mõistsin, et selleks, et mul õnnestuks teha see lugu, pidin ma end nende olukorda panema. Igal hommikul, enne kui asusin lugema oma New York Timesi, püüdsin tegeleda 15-20 minutit sellega, et lihtsalt midagi meelde jätta. See võis olla luuletus. Või nimed vanast aastaraamatust, mille olin kirbuturult ostnud. Avastasin, et see oli kohutavalt lahe. Ma ei oleks seda iial arvanud. See oli lahe, kuna päriselt polegi see nagu mälutreening. Mis tegelikult toimub on see, et üritad aina paremini ja paremini mõelda välja ja ette kujutada täiesti jaburaid, kiiksuga, napakaid ja loodetavasti unustamatuid kujutluspilte. See haaras mind täiesti.
This is me wearing my standard competitive memorizer's training kit.
Siin kannan ma mälusportlase põhivarustust:
(Laughter)
Paari kõrvaklappe
It's a pair of earmuffs and a set of safety goggles that have been masked over except for two small pinholes, because distraction is the competitive memorizer's greatest enemy.
ja ületeibitud kaitseprille, kuhu on jäetud vaid kaks pisikest nägemisava, sest tähelepanu hajumine on mäluvõistleja suurim vaenlane.
I ended up coming back to that same contest that I had covered a year earlier, and I had this notion that I might enter it, sort of as an experiment in participatory journalism. It'd make, I thought, maybe a nice epilogue to all my research. Problem was, the experiment went haywire. I won the contest --
Juhtus nii, et osalesingi võistlusel, mida olin aasta eest kajastanud. Mõte oli, et võiksin seal osaleda lihtsalt ajakirjandusliku eksperimendina. Mulle tundus, et see oleks ilusaks lõpetuseks mu uurimistööle. Paraku väljus see eksperiment kontrolli alt. Ma võitsin selle võistluse,
(Laughter)
which really wasn't supposed to happen.
seda poleks tegelikult pidanud ju juhtuma.
(Applause)
(Aplaus)
Now, it is nice to be able to memorize speeches and phone numbers and shopping lists, but it's actually kind of beside the point. These are just tricks. They work because they're based on some pretty basic principles about how our brains work. And you don't have to be building memory palaces or memorizing packs of playing cards to benefit from a little bit of insight about how your mind works.
Muidugi on tore suuta meelde jätta kõnesid, telefoninumbreid ja poenimekirju aga see pole põhiline. Need on lihtsalt nipid. Nipid, mis toimivad kuna nad põhinevad aju töö lihtsatel põhimõtetel. Pole vaja ehitada mälupaleesid või jätta meelde kaartide järjestust pakis et saada kasu teadmisest,
We often talk about people with great memories
kuidas aju töötab.
as though it were some sort of an innate gift, but that is not the case. Great memories are learned. At the most basic level, we remember when we pay attention. We remember when we are deeply engaged. We remember when we are able to take a piece of information and experience, and figure out why it is meaningful to us, why it is significant, why it's colorful, when we're able to transform it in some way that makes sense in the light of all of the other things floating around in our minds, when we're able to transform Bakers into bakers.
Sageli räägime suurepärase mäluga inimestest kui kellestki, kel on erakordne anne, aga nii see ei ole. Suurepärane mälu on õpitav. Kõige lihtsamal tasemel jäävad asjad meelde siis, kui neile tähelepanu pöörame. Asjad jäävad meelde, kui oleme süvenenud ja siis kui saame aru, miks sellel infokillul või kogemusel on meie jaoks tähendus, miks see on oluline, miks see on värvikas, kui suudame muuta teadmist nõnda et sel oleks meie jaoks tähendus juba meie peas olemasolevate asjade valguses, kui oskame teha Bakeritest pagarid.
The memory palace, these memory techniques -- they're just shortcuts. In fact, they're not even really shortcuts. They work because they make you work. They force a kind of depth of processing, a kind of mindfulness, that most of us don't normally walk around exercising. But there actually are no shortcuts. This is how stuff is made memorable.
Mälupalee ja teised mnemotehnikad on lihtsalt abivahendid. Tegelikult pole need isegi abivahendid. Need toimivad, kuna panevad teid tööle. Sunnivad asjadesse süvenema, pöörama erilist tähelepanu, mida enamik meist tavaolukorras ei teeks. Tegelikult ei olegi siin mingeid kiirmeetodeid. Asjade meeldejätmine käibki just nii.
And I think if there's one thing that I want to leave you with, it's what E.P., the amnesic who couldn't even remember he had a memory problem, left me with, which is the notion that our lives are the sum of our memories. How much are we willing to lose from our already short lives, by losing ourselves in our Blackberries, our iPhones, by not paying attention to the human being across from us who is talking with us, by being so lazy that we're not willing to process deeply?
Kui on üks asi, mida tahaksin, et te siite kaasa võtaksite, oleks see seesama, mille E.P., vaegmäluga mees, kes ei mäletanudki, et tal oli mäluhäire. andis mulle, nimelt, et meie elu koosnebki meie mälestustest. Kui palju oleme valmis kaotama oma niigi lühikesest elust unustades end oma Blackberridesse ja iPhonedesse, mitte märgates enda kõrval inimest, kes meiega räägib, olles nii laisad, et ei viitsi süveneda?
I learned firsthand that there are incredible memory capacities latent in all of us. But if you want to live a memorable life, you have to be the kind of person who remembers to remember.
Õppisin omast kogemusest, et igaühes meist on peidus uskumatu mälupotentsiaal. Aga kui soovite elada mäletamisväärset elu, tuleb teil olla inimene, kes ei unusta meelde jätta.
Thank you.
Aitäh!
(Applause)
(Aplaus)