По-моему, очень интерeсно про мозги (контролировать неизлечимую депрессию, возвращать зрение[, программироавть солдат]).
A главное, про Карла Дессерота (Karl Deisseroth).
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2015/05/18/lighting-the-brain
He was in the third grade when he learned that his own brain functioned in an unusual way. A teacher asked the class to choose a poem to recite from memory. Deisseroth opened his reader, looked at a page containing “The Road Not Taken,” and put his hand up. When the teacher explained that he needed to memorize the poem first, he said that he already had, and recited it. The teacher, disbelieving, spent the rest of the class calling on him to quickly glance at a poem and then recite it. “It kind of turned into a circus act,” Deisseroth says.
He remains a preternaturally fast and retentive reader. At a recent conference, he attended a talk by David and Nic Sheff, the father-and-son authors of the addiction memoirs “Beautiful Boy” and “Tweak.” In the course of an hour, while listening to the two men, Deisseroth read both books in their entirety. He does not use the standard techniques of speed-reading but, instead, sees printed pages “in blocks,” he says, and instantly “fills in gaps.” Colleagues suggest that this ability helped Deisseroth to acquire the wide-ranging knowledge necessary for the development of optogenetics, which required a working familiarity with virology, optics, animal behavior, genetics, 3-D imaging, microbiology, materials science, and chemistry.
Deisseroth graduated from high school at sixteen and won a scholarship to Harvard, where he planned to major in creative writing. Instead, he ended up getting a degree in biochemistry, and was admitted, at the age of twenty, to Stanford’s combined M.D. and Ph.D. program. Motivated by a desire to better understand human nature, he decided to pursue his Ph.D. in neuroscience. “I didn’t come in by asking, ‘How many bits per second can flow through a pathway?’ ” he says. “I came in—maybe from the literature exposure—wanting to know where feeling came from. How you could be uplifted by words. How imagination worked.”
...
Dressed in his usual T-shirt, jeans, and scuffed leather jacket, driving around campus in a dented gray Chevy pickup, Deisseroth could be mistaken for a slightly shambolic creative-writing professor. His initial dream, in fact, was to write. He took writing courses as an undergraduate, and when he was a graduate student in both medicine and neuroscience at Stanford he took a fiction-writing class that met two nights a week at a junior college nearby. He remains an avid reader of fiction and poetry, and he is polishing a book of short stories and essays loosely inspired by Primo Levi’s “The Periodic Table.”
...
Deisseroth seems never to be on tilt. He attributes this partly to his psychiatric training: “Those nights on call where there are five emergencies, you’ve got a patient in restraints in the E.R., where they need you immediately, patients up on the psychiatry floor, where someone punched a nurse—you develop a little bit of a ‘just get through it one thing at a time.’ ” His unusual calm has allowed him to compartmentalize competing demands (fatherhood, marriage, neuroscience, literary endeavors, clinical psychiatry, speaking appearances at dozens of conferences a year), so that he can think through complex problems. He told me that, while many people find that walking or jogging shakes ideas loose from the subconscious, he needs to quell all physical activity. “Otherwise, I get this disruption from the motor cortex,” he said. “I have to be totally still.” Ideas come floating up “like a bubble in liquid.” At that point, he goes into an excitable motor state, pacing or scribbling down ideas.
A главное, про Карла Дессерота (Karl Deisseroth).
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2015/05/18/lighting-the-brain
He was in the third grade when he learned that his own brain functioned in an unusual way. A teacher asked the class to choose a poem to recite from memory. Deisseroth opened his reader, looked at a page containing “The Road Not Taken,” and put his hand up. When the teacher explained that he needed to memorize the poem first, he said that he already had, and recited it. The teacher, disbelieving, spent the rest of the class calling on him to quickly glance at a poem and then recite it. “It kind of turned into a circus act,” Deisseroth says.
He remains a preternaturally fast and retentive reader. At a recent conference, he attended a talk by David and Nic Sheff, the father-and-son authors of the addiction memoirs “Beautiful Boy” and “Tweak.” In the course of an hour, while listening to the two men, Deisseroth read both books in their entirety. He does not use the standard techniques of speed-reading but, instead, sees printed pages “in blocks,” he says, and instantly “fills in gaps.” Colleagues suggest that this ability helped Deisseroth to acquire the wide-ranging knowledge necessary for the development of optogenetics, which required a working familiarity with virology, optics, animal behavior, genetics, 3-D imaging, microbiology, materials science, and chemistry.
Deisseroth graduated from high school at sixteen and won a scholarship to Harvard, where he planned to major in creative writing. Instead, he ended up getting a degree in biochemistry, and was admitted, at the age of twenty, to Stanford’s combined M.D. and Ph.D. program. Motivated by a desire to better understand human nature, he decided to pursue his Ph.D. in neuroscience. “I didn’t come in by asking, ‘How many bits per second can flow through a pathway?’ ” he says. “I came in—maybe from the literature exposure—wanting to know where feeling came from. How you could be uplifted by words. How imagination worked.”
...
Dressed in his usual T-shirt, jeans, and scuffed leather jacket, driving around campus in a dented gray Chevy pickup, Deisseroth could be mistaken for a slightly shambolic creative-writing professor. His initial dream, in fact, was to write. He took writing courses as an undergraduate, and when he was a graduate student in both medicine and neuroscience at Stanford he took a fiction-writing class that met two nights a week at a junior college nearby. He remains an avid reader of fiction and poetry, and he is polishing a book of short stories and essays loosely inspired by Primo Levi’s “The Periodic Table.”
...
Deisseroth seems never to be on tilt. He attributes this partly to his psychiatric training: “Those nights on call where there are five emergencies, you’ve got a patient in restraints in the E.R., where they need you immediately, patients up on the psychiatry floor, where someone punched a nurse—you develop a little bit of a ‘just get through it one thing at a time.’ ” His unusual calm has allowed him to compartmentalize competing demands (fatherhood, marriage, neuroscience, literary endeavors, clinical psychiatry, speaking appearances at dozens of conferences a year), so that he can think through complex problems. He told me that, while many people find that walking or jogging shakes ideas loose from the subconscious, he needs to quell all physical activity. “Otherwise, I get this disruption from the motor cortex,” he said. “I have to be totally still.” Ideas come floating up “like a bubble in liquid.” At that point, he goes into an excitable motor state, pacing or scribbling down ideas.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-13 05:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-05-13 05:39 pm (UTC)Моя дочь тоже думала, но потом попробовала и поняла, что ее больше интересует клиника.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-13 05:37 pm (UTC)