I decided when I was asked to do this that what I really wanted to talk about was my friend, Richard Feynman. I was one of the fortunate few that really did get to know him and enjoyed his presence. And I'm going to tell you about the Richard Feynman that I knew. I'm sure there are people here who could tell you about the Richard Feynman they knew, and it would probably be a different Richard Feynman.
Kad mani aicināja uzstāties, es izlēmu, ka tas par, ko tiešām vēlos runāt, ir mans draugs Ričards Fainmens. Es biju viens no dažiem laimīgajiem, kuriem patiešām izdevās viņu iepazīt un baudīt viņa klātbūtni. Es pastāstīšu par Ričardu Fainmenu, ko pazinu es. Šeit noteikti ir arī citi, kas varētu pastāstīt par Ričardu Fainmenu, ko pazina viņi, un tas būtu citādāks Fainmens. Ričards Fainmens bija ļoti sarežģīts cilvēks.
Richard Feynman was a very complex man. He was a man of many, many parts. He was, of course, foremost, a very, very, very great scientist. He was an actor. You saw him act. I also had the good fortune to be in those lectures, up in the balcony. They were fantastic. He was a philosopher. He was a drum player. He was a teacher par excellence. Richard Feynman was also a showman, an enormous showman. He was brash, irreverent. He was full of macho, a kind of macho one-upmanship. He loved intellectual battle. He had a gargantuan ego. But the man had, somehow, a lot of room at the bottom. And what I mean by that is a lot of room, in my case -- I can't speak for anybody else, but in my case -- a lot of room for another big ego. Well, not as big as his, but fairly big. I always felt good with Dick Feynman.
Viņš bija ļoti, ļoti daudzpusīgs cilvēks. Galvenokārt viņš, protams, bija ļoti, ļoti, ļoti liels zinātnieks. Viņš bija aktieris. Jūs redzējāt viņa aktierspēli. Arī man palaimējās atrasties šajās lekcijās, augšā, balkonā. Tās bija fantastiskas. Viņš bija filozofs; viņš spēlēja bungas; viņš bija izcils skolotājs. Ričards Fainmens bija arī šovmenis, milzīgs šovmenis. Viņš bija skaļš, nekaunīgs. Viņā bija papilnam mačisma, tāda kā mačo tipa izrādīšanās. Viņam ļoti patika intelektuālas cīņas. Viņam piemita milzonīgs ego. Tomēr šim vīram kaut kā atradās vieta arī citiem. Ar to es domāju vietu, kas manā gadījumā... es nevaru runāt par nevienu citu, taču manā gadījumā pietiekami daudz vietas vēl vienam lielam ego. Labi, ne tik lielam kā viņa, bet diezgan lielam. Es vienmēr jutos labi kopā ar Diku Fainmenu.
It was always fun to be with him. He always made me feel smart. How can somebody like that make you feel smart? Somehow he did. He made me feel smart. He made me feel he was smart. He made me feel we were both smart, and the two of us could solve any problem whatever. And in fact, we did sometimes do physics together. We never published a paper together, but we did have a lot of fun.
Ar viņu būt kopā vienmēr bija jautri. Viņš man vienmēr lika justies gudram. Kā gan tāds cilvēks var likt tev justies gudram? Kaut kā viņš to spēja. Viņš lika man justies gudram, lika just, ka viņš ir gudrs. Viņš lika just, ka mēs esam gudri un abi kopā varam atrisināt jebkuru problēmu. Patiesībā mēs dažreiz kopā strādājām pie fizikas. Mēs nekad nenopublicējām kopīgu zinātnisku rakstu, bet mums gāja ļoti jautri.
He loved to win, win these little macho games we would sometimes play. And he didn't only play them with me, but with all sorts of people. He would almost always win. But when he didn't win, when he lost, he would laugh and seem to have just as much fun as if he had won.
Viņam patika uzvarēt, uzvarēt šajās mačo spēlītēs, ko reizēm spēlējām – viņš tās spēlēja ne tikai ar mani, bet ar visvisādiem cilvēkiem –, viņš gandrīz vienmēr uzvarēja. Bet kad viņš neuzvarēja, kad viņš zaudēja, viņš smējās un izskatījās to izbaudām tik pat ļoti kā uzvaras.
I remember once he told me a story about a joke the students played on him. I think it was for his birthday -- they took him for lunch to a sandwich place in Pasadena. It may still exist; I don't know. Celebrity sandwiches was their thing. You could get a Marilyn Monroe sandwich. You could get a Humphrey Bogart sandwich. The students went there in advance, and arranged that they'd all order Feynman sandwiches. One after another, they came in and ordered Feynman sandwiches. Feynman loved this story. He told me this story, and he was really happy and laughing. When he finished the story, I said to him, "Dick, I wonder what would be the difference between a Feynman sandwich and a Susskind sandwich." And without skipping a beat at all, he said, "Well, they'd be about the same. The only difference is a Susskind sandwich would have a lot more ham." "Ham" as in bad actor.
Es atceros, ka reiz viņš man stāstīja par joku, ko studenti ar viņu izspēlēja. Šķiet, tā bija viņa dzimšanas diena – viņi viņu aizveda pusdienās uz sviestmaižu tirgotavu Pasadīnā. Tā varbūt vēl joprojām strādā, nezinu. Tās lepnums bija slavenību sviestmaizes. Tur varēja dabūt Merilinas Monro sviestmaizi, varēja dabūt Hamfrija Bogarta sviestmaizi. Studenti tur ieradās iepriekš un sarunāja, ka visi pasūtīs Fainmena sviestmaizes. Viens pēc otra viņi nāca un pasūtīja Fainmena sviestmaizes. Fainmenam patika šis stāsts. Viņš man to stāstīja un bija ļoti laimīgs, un smējās. Kad viņš pabeidza stāstu, es viņam teicu: „Dik, interesanti, kāda būtu atšķirība starp Fainmena un Saskinda sviestmaizi.” Bez nekādas vilcināšanās viņš atbildēja: „Tās abas būtu visai vienādas. Vienīgā atšķirība, ka Saskinda sviestmaizē būtu daudz vairāk šķiņķa”, ar „šķiņķi” domājot sliktu aktiermākslu.
(Laughter)
(Smiekli)
Well, I happened to have been very quick that day, and I said, "Yeah, but a lot less baloney."
Gadījās, ka es todien biju ļoti asprātīgs un teicu: „Jā, bet daudz mazāk desas [ar nozīmi – muļķību].”
(Laughter)
(Smiekli)
(Applause)
The truth of the matter is that a Feynman sandwich had a load of ham, but absolutely no baloney. What Feynman hated worse than anything else was intellectual pretense -- phoniness, false sophistication, jargon. I remember sometime during the mid-'80s, Dick and I and Sidney Coleman would meet a couple of times up in San Francisco -- at some very rich guy's house -- up in San Francisco for dinner. And the last time the rich guy invited us, he also invited a couple of philosophers. These guys were philosophers of mind. Their specialty was the philosophy of consciousness. And they were full of all kinds of jargon. I'm trying to remember the words -- "monism," "dualism," categories all over the place. I didn't know what those meant, neither did Dick or Sydney, for that matter.
Patiesībā – patiesībā Fainmena sviestmaizē bija papilnam „šķiņķa”, bet ne kripatiņas „desas”. Tas, ko Fainmens vairāk par visu neieredzēja, bija intelektuāla augstprātība – samākslotība, viltus izsmalcinātība, žargons. Es atceros kādu reizi 80. gadu vidū, Diks, es un Sidnijs Kolemens pāris reizes tikāmies Sanfrancisko, kāda ļoti bagāta vīra mājā uz pusdienām. Pēdējoreiz, kad bagātais vīrs mūs uzaicināja, viņš uzaicināja arī pāris filozofu. Šie puiši bija prāta filozofi. Viņu specialitāte bija apziņas filozofija. Viņi mētājās ar visa veida žargonu. Es cenšos atcerēties vārdus – „monisms”, „duālisms”, kategorijas, cik uziet. Es nezināju, ko visas šīs lietas nozīmē, un Diks arī ne, tāpat arī Sidnijs.
And what did we talk about? Well, what do you talk about when you talk about minds? There's one obvious thing to talk about: Can a machine become a mind? Can you build a machine that thinks like a human being that is conscious? We sat around and talked about this -- we of course never resolved it. But the trouble with the philosophers is that they were philosophizing when they should have been science-ophizing. It's a scientific question, after all. And this was a very, very dangerous thing to do around Dick Feynman.
Par ko tad mēs runājām? Par ko gan var runāt, runājot par prātu? Viena acīmredzama lieta, par ko runāt – vai mašīnai var piemist saprāts? Vai iespējams uzbūvēt mašīnu, kas domā kā cilvēks, kam piemīt apziņa? Mēs sēdējām un runājām par to, mēs, protams, tā arī neatradām atbildi. Bet probēma ar filozofiem ir tā, ka viņi filozofē, kad viņiem vajadzētu <i>zinātņofēt</i>. Tas galu galā ir zinātnisks jautājums. Dika Fainmena klātbūtnē šāda rīcība bija ļoti, ļoti bīstama.
(Laughter)
(Smiekli)
Feynman let them have it -- both barrels, right between the eyes. It was brutal; it was funny -- ooh, it was funny. But it was really brutal. He really popped their balloon. But the amazing thing was -- Feynman had to leave a little early; he wasn't feeling too well, so he left a little bit early. And Sidney and I were left there with the two philosophers. And the amazing thing is these guys were flying. They were so happy. They had met the great man; they had been instructed by the great man; they had an enormous amount of fun having their faces shoved in the mud ... And it was something special. I realized there was something just extraordinary about Feynman, even when he did what he did.
Fainmens viņiem to ļāva izbaudīt, abas lodes, tieši starp acīm. Tas bija brutāli, tas bija smieklīgi, tas bija tik smieklīgi! Bet tas bija ļoti brutāli. Viņš viņus patiešām nolika pie vietas. Taču apbrīnojamā kārtā – Fainmens devās prom mazliet agrāk, viņš nejutās īpaši labi, tāpēc viņš devās prom mazliet agrāk, un mēs ar Sidniju palikām ar šiem diviem filozofiem. Apbrīnojamā kārtā šie puiši bija spārnos. Viņi bija tik laimīgi! Viņi bija satikuši diženu vīru; viņi bija saņēmuši diženā vīra norādes; viņiem bija gājis ļoti jautri, viņu sejām tiekot iegrūstām dubļos, un tas bija kaut kas īpašs. Es sapratu, ka Fainmenā ir kaut kas neparasts pat tad, kad viņš darīja to, ko darīja.
Dick -- he was my friend; I did call him Dick -- Dick and I had a little bit of a rapport. I think it may have been a special rapport that he and I had. We liked each other; we liked the same kind of things. I also like the intellectual macho games. Sometimes I would win, mostly he would win, but we both enjoyed them. And Dick became convinced at some point that he and I had some kind of similarity of personality. I don't think he was right. I think the only point of similarity between us is we both like to talk about ourselves. But he was convinced of this. And the man was incredibly curious. And he wanted to understand what it was and why it was that there was this funny connection.
Diks – viņš bija mans draugs, es viņu saucu par Diku –, starp Diku un mani pavisam noteikti bija saikne. Es domāju, starp mums pastāvēja īpaša saikne. Mēs patikām viens otram, mums patika līdzīgas lietas. Man arī patika tādas pašas intelektuālas mačo spēles. Dažreiz uzvarēju es, lielākoties uzvarēja viņš, bet mēs abi tās izbaudījām. Un kādā brīdī Diks sāka uzskatīt, ka mūsu personības ir savā ziņā līdzīgas. Nedomāju, ka viņam bija taisnība. Domāju, vienīgā līdzība starp mums ir tā, ka mums abiem patika runāt par sevi. Bet viņš par šo bija pārliecināts. Šis vīrs bija neticami zinātkārs. Viņš vēlējās saprast, kas tas ir un kāpēc tā ir, ka mums ir šī jocīgā saikne.
And one day, we were walking. We were in France, in Les Houches. We were up in the mountains, 1976. And Feynman said to me, "Leonardo ..." The reason he called me "Leonardo" is because we were in Europe, and he was practicing his French.
Kādu dienu mēs pastaigājāmies. Mēs bijām Francijā, Lezušā. Tas bija kalnos, 1976. gadā. Mēs bijām kalnos, un Fainmens man teica: „Leonardo...” Viņš sauca mani par Leonardo, jo mēs bijām Eiropā un viņš praktizēja savu franču valodu.
(Laughter)
(Smiekli)
And he said, "Leonardo, were you closer to your mother or your father when you were a kid?" I said, "Well, my real hero was my father. He was a working man, had a fifth-grade education. He was a master mechanic, and he taught me how to use tools. He taught me all sorts of things about mechanical things. He even taught me the Pythagorean theorem. He didn't call it the hypotenuse, he called it the shortcut distance."
Tātad viņš teica: „Leonardo, vai bērnībā tu biji tuvāks ar savu māti vai tēvu?” Es atbildēju: „Mans īstais varonis bija tēvs. Viņš bija strādnieks ar piecu klašu izglītību. Viņš bija meistars mehānikā un iemācīja man strādāt ar darbarīkiem. Viņš man iemācīja daudz ko par mehānismiem. Viņš pat man iemācīja Pitagora teorēmu. Viņš to nesauca par hipotenūzu, Viņš to sauca par „īsāko attālumu”.
And Feynman's eyes just opened up. He went off like a lightbulb. And he said that he had had basically exactly the same relationship with his father. In fact, he had been convinced at one time that to be a good physicist, it was very important to have had that kind of relationship with your father. I apologize for the sexist conversation here, but this is the way it really happened.
Fainmena acis iepletās. Viņš iedegās kā lampiņa. Viņš teica, ka būtībā viņam esot bijušas tādas pašas attiecības ar savu tēvu. Patiesībā viņš savulaik uzskatījis, ka, lai būtu labs fiziķis, ir ļoti svarīgi būt šāda veida attiecībās ar tēvu. Es atvainojos par šo seksistisko valodu, bet tā tas patiesībā notika.
He said he had been absolutely convinced that this was necessary, a necessary part of the growing up of a young physicist. Being Dick, he, of course, wanted to check this. He wanted to go out and do an experiment.
Viņš teica, ka ir pilnībā pārliecināts, ka šis ir svarīgs priekšnoteikums jauna fiziķa augšanai. Kā jau Diks, viņš, protams, to gribēja pārbaudīt. Viņš gribēja to pārbaudīt eksperimentāli.
(Laughter)
(Smiekli)
Well, he did. He went out and did an experiment. He asked all his friends that he thought were good physicists, "Was it your mom or your pop that influenced you?" They were all men, and to a man, every single one of them said, "My mother."
Un tā arī izdarīja. Šajā eksperimentā viņš visiem saviem draugiem, kas, viņaprāt, bija labi fiziķi, jautāja: „Uz jums lielāku iespaidu atstāja mamma vai paps?” Tie visi bija vīrieši, un ikviens no viņiem atbildēja: „Māte.”
(Laughter)
(Smiekli)
There went that theory, down the trash can of history.
Tā nu šī teorija tika izmesta vēstures mēslainē.
(Laughter)
(Smiekli)
But he was very excited that he had finally met somebody who had the same experience with his father as he had with his father. And for some time, he was convinced this was the reason we got along so well. I don't know. Maybe. Who knows?
Tomēr viņš bija ļoti priecīgs, ka beidzot saticis kādu, kam bijusi līdzīga pieredze ar tēvu, tāpat kā viņam ar savu tēvu. Un kādu laiku viņš bija pārliecināts, ka šis bija iemesls, kāpēc mēs tik labi satikām. Es nezinu. Varbūt. Kas to lai zina?
But let me tell you a little bit about Feynman the physicist. Feynman's style -- no, "style" is not the right word. "Style" makes you think of the bow tie he might have worn, or the suit he was wearing. It's something much deeper than that, but I can't think of another word for it. Feynman's scientific style was always to look for the simplest, most elementary solution to a problem that was possible. If it wasn't possible, you had to use something fancier. No doubt, part of this was his great joy and pleasure in showing people that he could think more simply than they could. But he also deeply believed, he truly believed, that if you couldn't explain something simply, you didn't understand it. In the 1950s, people were trying to figure out how superfluid helium worked.
Bet ļaujiet man mazliet pastāstīt par fiziķi Fainmenu. Fainmena stils... nē, stils nav īstais vārds. Stils liek domāt par tauriņu, ko viņš varētu būt nēsājis vai par uzvalku, ko viņš nēsāja. Tas ir kas daudz dziļāks par to, bet es nespēju izdomāt citu vārdu. Fainmena zinātniskais stils bija vienmēr meklēt vienkāršāko, pašu elementārāko problēmas risinājumu, kāds vien bija iespējams. Ja tas nebija iespējams, nācās izmantot kaut ko sarežģītāku. Bez šaubām daļa no šī bija viņa prieks un lepnums parādīt citiem, ka viņš prot domāt vienkāršāk nekā viņi. Bet viņš arī uzskatīja, viņš patiesi uzskatīja, ka, ja kaut ko nespējat izskaidrot vienkārši, tad jūs to nesaprotat. 1950. gados cilvēki centās izprast šķidro hēliju.
There was a theory. It was due to a Russian mathematical physicist. It was a complicated theory; I'll tell you what it was soon enough. It was a terribly complicated theory, full of very difficult integrals and formulas and mathematics and so forth. And it sort of worked, but it didn't work very well. The only way it worked is when the helium atoms were very, very far apart. And unfortunately, the helium atoms in liquid helium are right on top of each other.
Pastāvēja teorija, tās radītājs bija krievu matemātiķis-fiziķis, un tā bija sarežģīta teorija. Es jums drīz par to pastāstīšu. Tā bija ārkārtīgi sarežģīta teorija, pilna ar ļoti sarežģītiem integrāļiem un formulām, un matemātiku, un tā tālāk. Šī teorija kaut kādā ziņā darbojās, bet ne īpaši veiksmīgi. Tā strādāja vienīgi tad, ja hēlija atomi atradās ļoti, ļoti tālu viens no otra. Bet diemžēl šķidrajā hēlijā hēlija atomi atrodas tieši viens otram virsū.
Feynman decided, as a sort of amateur helium physicist, that he would try to figure it out. He had an idea, a very clear idea. He would try to figure out what the quantum wave function of this huge number of atoms looked like. He would try to visualize it, guided by a small number of simple principles. The small number of simple principles were very, very simple. The first one was that when helium atoms touch each other, they repel. The implication of that is that the wave function has to go to zero, it has to vanish when the helium atoms touch each other. The other fact is that in the ground state -- the lowest energy state of a quantum system -- the wave function is always very smooth; it has the minimum number of wiggles.
Fainmens kā tāds hēlija fiziķis-amatieris nolēma, ka mēģinās atrisināt šo problēmu. Viņam bija ideja, ļoti skaidra ideja. Viņš mēģinās izprast, kā izskatās kvantu viļņa funkcija šim milzīgajam daudzumam atomu. Viņš to mēģinās vizualizēt, vadoties pēc dažiem vienkāršiem principiem. Šie nedaudzie vienkāršie principi bija pavisam, pavisam vienkārši. Pirmais bija: hēlija atomiem saskaroties, tie atgrūžas. No tā izrietēja, ka viļņa funkcijai jātuvojas nullei, tai jāpazūd, kad hēlija atomi saskaras viens ar otru. Nākamais fakts: sazemētā stāvoklī, kvantu sistēmas mazākās enerģijas stāvoklī, viļņa funkcija vienmēr ir ļoti līdzena, tai ir vismazākais skaits svārstību.
So he sat down -- and I imagine he had nothing more than a simple piece of paper and a pencil -- and he tried to write down, and did write down, the simplest function that he could think of, which had the boundary conditions that the wave function vanish when things touch and is smooth in between. He wrote down a simple thing -- so simple, in fact, that I suspect a really smart high-school student who didn't even have calculus could understand what he wrote down. The thing was, that simple thing that he wrote down explained everything that was known at the time about liquid helium, and then some.
Tā nu viņš apsēdās – un es iztēlojos, ka viņam nebija nekā vairāk kā vienkārša papīra lapa un zīmulis – un viņš centās uzrakstīt un uzrakstīja visvienkāršāko funkciju, kādu vien varēja iedomāties, ar robežnosacījumiem, ka viļņa funkcija pazūd, kad atomi saskaras, un ir līdzena pārējā laikā. Viņš uzrakstīja vienkāršu lietu. Īstenībā tā bija tik vienkārša, ka, manuprāt, ļoti gudrs vidusskolēns, pat neapguvis aprēķinus, varētu saprast, ko viņš uzrakstīja. Lieta tāda, ka šī vienkāršā, viņa uzrakstītā lieta izskaidroja visu, kas līdz tam bija zināms par šķidro hēliju un vēl drusku.
I've always wondered whether the professionals -- the real professional helium physicists -- were just a little bit embarrassed by this. They had their super-powerful technique, and they couldn't do as well. Incidentally, I'll tell you what that super-powerful technique was. It was the technique of Feynman diagrams.
Es vienmēr brīnījos, vai profesionāļi, īstie profesionālie hēlija fiziķi, par šo nejutās nedaudz apkaunoti. Viņiem bija viņu superjaudīgā metode, taču viņi to tik labi nespēja izdarīt. Starp citu, pateikšu, kas tā par superjaudīgo metodi. Tā bija Fainmena diagrammu metode.
(Laughter)
(Smiekli)
He did it again in 1968. In 1968, in my own university -- I wasn't there at the time -- they were exploring the structure of the proton. The proton is obviously made of a whole bunch of little particles; this was more or less known. And the way to analyze it was, of course, Feynman diagrams. That's what Feynman diagrams were constructed for -- to understand particles. The experiments that were going on were very simple: you simply take the proton, and you hit it really sharply with an electron. This was the thing the Feynman diagrams were for.
Viņš to pašu izdarīja atkal 1968. gadā. 1968. gadā manā universitātē – toreiz gan es tur nebiju – viņi pētīja protona uzbūvi. Protonu veido milzum daudz mazu daļiņu. Tas jau bija vairāk vai mazāk zināms. Veids, kā to analizēt, protams, bija Fainmena diagrammas. Tāpēc Fainmena diagrammas bija radītas, lai izprastu daļiņas. Veiktie eksperimenti bija ļoti vienkārši. Jūs vienkārši ņemat protonu un precīzi pa to šaujat ar elektronu. Šis bija Fainmena diagrammu mērķis.
The only problem was that Feynman diagrams are complicated. They're difficult integrals. If you could do all of them, you would have a very precise theory, but you couldn't -- they were just too complicated. People were trying to do them. You could do a one-loop diagram. Don't worry about one loop. One loop, two loops -- maybe you could do a three-loop diagram, but beyond that, you couldn't do anything.
Vienīgā problēma – Fainmena diagrammas ir ļoti sarežģītas. Tie ir sarežģīti integrāļi. Ja varētu tās visas izpildīt, jums būtu ļoti precīza teorija. Bet tas nebija iespējams, tās vienkārši bija pārāk sarežģītas. Cilvēki mēģināja tās izpildīt. Var iziet viena cikla diagrammu. Neraizējieties par vienu ciklu. Viens, divi cikli, varbūt var iziet trīs ciklu diagrammu, bet vairāk jūs nevarētu.
Feynman said, "Forget all of that. Just think of the proton as an assemblage, a swarm, of little particles." He called them "partons." He said, "Just think of it as a swarm of partons moving real fast." Because they're moving real fast, relativity says the internal motions go very slow. The electron hits it suddenly -- it's like taking a very sudden snapshot of the proton. What do you see? You see a frozen bunch of partons. They don't move, and because they don't move during the course of the experiment, you don't have to worry about how they're moving. You don't have to worry about the forces between them. You just get to think of it as a population of frozen partons." This was the key to analyzing these experiments. Extremely effective. Somebody said the word "revolution" is a bad word. I suppose it is, so I won't say "revolution," but it certainly evolved very, very deeply our understanding of the proton, and of particles beyond that.
Fainmens teica: „Aizmirstiet to visu. Vienkārši domājiet par protonu kā mazu daļiņu kopumu, mazu daļiņu spietu.” Viņš tās sauca par partoniem. Viņš teica: „Domājiet par to kā par partonu spietu, kas pārvietojas ļoti ātri.” Tā kā tie pārvietojas tik ātri, relativitāte nosaka, ka iekšējās kustības ir ļoti lēnas. Pa to pēkšņi trāpa elektrons. Tas ir kā iegūt ļoti pēkšņu protona momentuzņēmumu. Ko jūs redzat? Jūs redzat pāris sastingušu partonu. Tie nepārvietojas, un, tā kā eksperimenta laikā tie nepārvietojas, nav jāuztraucas par to, kā tie pārvietojas. Nav jāuztraucas par spēkiem, kas tos saista. Jums vienkārši par to jādomā kā par sastingušu partonu kopumu. Tā bija atslēga šādu eksperimentu analīzei. Ārkārtīgi efektīva. Kāds teicis, ka vārds „revolūcija” ir slikts vārds. Pieņemu, ka tā ir, tāpēc neteikšu „revolūcija”, bet tā pavisam noteikti pamatīgi ietekmēja mūsu izpratni par protonu un daļiņām, kas stāv aiz tā.
Well, I had some more that I was going to tell you about my connection with Feynman, what he was like, but I see I have exactly half a minute. So I think I'll just finish up by saying: I actually don't think Feynman would have liked this event. I think he would have said, "I don't need this." But ...
Bija vēl kas, ko gribēju pastāstīt par savām attiecībām ar Fainmenu, kāds viņš bija, bet es redzu, ka man palikusi tieši pusminūte. Tāpēc es vienkārši beigšu, sakot, ka patiesībā nedomāju, ka Fainmenam būtu paticis šis pasākums. Manuprāt, viņš būtu teicis: „Man tas nav vajadzīgs.” (Smiekli)
(Laughter)
Bet kā lai mēs godājam Fainmenu? Kā lai mēs patiešām godājam Fainmenu?
How should we honor Feynman? How should we really honor Feynman? I think the answer is we should honor Feynman by getting as much baloney out of our own sandwiches as we can.
Manuprāt, mums vajadzētu pieminēt Fainmenu, tiekot vaļā no tik daudz „desas” mūsu pašu sviestmaizēs, cik vien iespējams.
Thank you.
Paldies.
(Applause)
(Aplausi)