Heartfelt Thanks for your compassion. Yep, Feynman is hilarious .
Speaking of funny people, as of tonight, The Daily Show will be up again, too.

I grudgingly admit that Goethe’s Faust probably has a better poetry to it than Surely You Must Be Joking, Mr. Feynman, but the latter, qua national epistemic myth, is probably a more cheerful referent on a melancholy Monday evening.

Hope you noticed that my posting was very tongue-in-the-cheek .

I live in the US too, happily, hoping for change and hope and unity to happen this November.

This will not happen to me and Eugene because we live… we live in a land called America… a land full of dreams… and hope.. a land where people… and fields… come together in unity…

¡sí, se Puede!

PS: I think the biologists are hiring. Let’s cure cancer next!

And that was, unfortunately, not me.

I really like math, too.

Belonging to the group that you address, I certainly appreciate that story which you, I am sure, shared for nothing but the most well-meaning of intents.

Belonging to the group that you address, I would however like to bring to your attention that postings like these may not be in our best interest. I dare say, influences akin to such hearsay is what led us to make those ill-informed decisions that misguided us into the dire paths that our lives are today.

All young males alike, at an age when we make our career decisions, are easily swayed by the same small set of excitements: The beauty and mystery of the universe, the beauty and mystery of the women therein, and the prospect of making an impact on our world. Again, belonging to the group that you address, I can verify this from my own experience, having been a young male myself, full of dreams and ideals, albeit many years ago.

Born into what must be the most intoxicating time in history for a science-minded infant, inundated with epic stories of scientists forever changing the face of the world and the universe, with Richard Rhodes’ “Making of the Atomic Bomb” being a national bestseller and Hubble’s miraculous images resonating in our eager but naive little minds like the cries of sirens lurking behind submerged reefs, legions of my kind could not help but be lured into the rough waters of a career in physics.

By the time the seemingly endless hardships of long nights and weekends in grey offices, life as a nomad, soft money employment, advancing age, and solitude began to tear apart the fog of delusion, it was too late to change, no way to reverse the course that had been set long ago. Here we are, most of us an army of peons, stranded on a dire odyssey in stormy seas, singing in moonlit summer nights our despair to the stars, out of the windows of our pale blue desktop monitor-lit offices, the only homes we ever knew:

There is a place in Baltimore.
That’s where Hubble’s PR was done.
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I’m one…

Please note that the heart-warming story that you kindly shared with us got posted in the first place because it was found remarkable, an oddity, out of the ordinary, offbeat, a 3 sigma event. I fear that for the unassuming mind of an young aspiring scientist, it adds yet another siren, deafening ears to reason and wise warning.

Sincerely,