DANCING NAKED IN THE MIND FIEL(ISBN=9780679774006) 下载 pdf 百度网盘 epub 免费 2025 电子书 mobi 在线

　　Here is a multidimensional playland of ideas from the world's

most eccentric Nobel-Prize winning scientist. Kary Mullis is

legendary for his invention of PCR, which redefined the world of

DNA, genetics, and forensic science. He is also a surfer, a veteran

of Berkeley in the sixties, and perhaps the only Nobel laureate to

describe a possible encounter with aliens. A scientist of boundless

curiosity, he refuses to accept any proposition based on secondhand

or hearsay evidence, and always looks for the "money trail" when

scientists make announcements.

1. The Invention of PCR

2. The Big Prizes

3. A Lab Is Just Another Place tO Play

4. Fear and Lawyers in Los Angeles

5. The Realm of the Senses

6. I Think, Therefore I Wire

7. My Evening with Harry

8. Intervention on the Astral Plane

9. Avogadro's Number

10. Who's Minding the Store?

11. What Happened to Scientific Method?

12. The Attack of the Loxosceles reclusae

13. No Aliens Allowed

14. The IO,cccth Day

15. I Am a Capricorn

16. The Age of Nutritional Obsession

17. Better Living through Chemistry

18. Case Not Closed

19. Have Slides Will Stay Home

2o. Am I a Machine?

21. Professional Biochemistry

22. The Age of Chicken Little

Acknowledgments

Index

　　Kary Mullis lives in La Jolla and Anderson Valley,

California.

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　　From Chapter One

　　Christopher was settling down to some Japanese television when

the knock on the door came. It was the imperial security forces and

they wanted him downstairs. He dressed and came down to the

cocktail party with gray-suited men on either side of him. I spied

him in the doorway looking interested but also like a high school

student who had been dragged away from the television. He was

promptly sent through the receiving line, and the emperor's face

lit up when Chris introduced himself in Japanese. It was a

memorable night.

　　I was confident I was going to receive the Nobel Prize in 1992.

The host of a German TV show had called and explained that each

year he did a documentary about the winner of the Nobel Prize in

chemistry, and he was preparing the 1992 show. In the past, he had

successfully picked every winner of the prize for chemistry. He

claimed he was a very good guesser, but I figured this bastard must

get inside information, he must be getting the word from somebody

on the committee. That means I'm going to win it this year. His TV

crew spent a week filming me in La Jolla and Mendocino. I was very

excited. And I was actively humble.

　　As it turned out, I had good reason to be humble. I didn't win. I

stopped speculating about when I might get it and I tried not to

pay attention. About six months before the 1993 awards were to be

announced, my mentor from Berkeley, Joe Neilands, from whom I had

learned a little bit about chemistry and a whole lot about life,

told me, "I wouldn't be surprised if you got the Nobel Prize this

year. But you'd make it easier for the committee to give it to you

if you didn't talk to the press so much. They don't have to give it

to you till you're dying."

　　Neilands said that it was probably okay that I admitted loving

surfing and women, but he thought the committee might frown on the

fact that I admitted using LSD. Surfing, women, and LSD might be

too much, he told me. They might decide to wait until I settled

down in twenty or thirty years. Joe had spent a sabbatical or two

at the Karolinska in Sweden and he knew the scene. We both knew I

wouldn't shut up.

　　After being disappointed in 1992, I stopped thinking about the

Nobel Prize. The German guy never called back. I wasn't even sure

when the awards were to be announced. My phone rang at 6:15 a.m. on

the morning of October 13, 1993. I thought I knew who it was. On

both the eleventh and twelfth someone from Japan had sent me a fax

at exactly that time. He thought it was my afternoon. So when the

phone rang in my bedroom I stayed in bed, knowing the fax machine

would eventually pick it up. Then I heard someone leaving a message

on my answering machine. I heard the words "Nobel

Foundation."

　　I leaped out of bed. I picked up the phone just as the speaker

hung up. Great, I thought, I've missed the Nobel Prize call. Will

they call back? Almost instantly the phone rang again. He had heard

me just as he'd hung up. "Congratulations, Dr. Mullis. I am pleased

to be able to announce to you that you have been awarded the Nobel

Prize."

　　"I'll take it!" I said. I knew that they couldn't make you take

it and I didn't want there to be any doubts. We talked for a

minute, and I was warned to be prepared for an assault by the

media, but since this was the first time I'd ever won a Nobel

Prize, there was no way I could have anticipated the response. I

figured maybe I'd get ten calls or something. I didn't realize how

big the known world is. As soon as I hung up, I tried to call my

mother in South Carolina. Coincidentally, this was her birthday and

I reckoned this was a fine birthday present. But when I picked up

the phone, a reporter from the AP was on the line. The phone hadn't

even rung. I spoke to him for a second, then hung up, and tried

again. I picked up the phone, and someone from UPI was on the line.

Then somebody from a local station called. They wanted to bring a

camera crew over. Then Steve Judd showed up as he usually did

around seven, and I told him that I had just won the Nobel Prize.

He said, "I know. I heard it on the radio. Let's go for a

surf."

　　The local station that wanted to bring over a camera crew was

still on the line. I told them that I would be available in an

hour. I needed to wake up and I would be out surfing. Of course,

they asked me where we were going. I looked up at Steve and we

nodded agreement. I said we would be up at Thirteenth Street in Del

Mar. We headed in the other direction to Tourmaline. I needed

time.

　　Several friends joined us. When we came out of the water, a

camera crew from another station was waiting. They had gone

directly to my apartment and found out from a neighbor where I

usually surfed. They didn't know me, and they were asking everyone

who came out of the water if he was Kary Mullis. Andy Dizon

admitted to being me. They asked him how it felt to win the Nobel

Prize. He proclaimed that it was like a dream come true. They asked

him what he would be doing the rest of the day, and he turned to me

and said, "Wow! I just remembered, this is Kary Mullis." They

didn't show that on the nightly news.

　　By the time I got back home, my house was completely surrounded

by print and broadcast reporters and camera crews. As it turned

out, none of the other Nobel laureates that year were serious about

surfing, and "Surfer Wins Nobel Prize" made headlines.

　　Friends began arriving with Champagne, and the party began. That

afternoon I finally reached my mother. I wanted to tell her to stop

sending me articles about DNA, since I had now won the Nobel Prize

for my expertise on that subject. My mother often mailed me

articles from Reader's Digest about advances in DNA chemistry. No

matter how I tried to explain it to her, she never grasped the

concept that I could have been writing those articles, that

something I had invented made most of those DNA discoveries

possible. She probably hoped that winning the Nobel Prize might

enable me to be published someday in Reader's Digest.

　　The party continued for two days. Eventually it moved north to my

place in Mendocino. Roederer Vineyards was just down the road, and

no one failed to notice. I woke up late one afternoon from a dream

that I was dead in a coffin. Winning the Nobel Prize can be

hazardous to your health.

　　I invited my mother, my two sons, and a nice woman named Einhoff,

whom I'd been dating for only a few weeks, to accompany me to

Stockholm for the ceremony. I also took Cynthia, the mother of my

two boys.

　　That year two Nobel Prizes in chemistry were awarded. Michael

Smith, a Canadian who had demonstrated that you could change the

sequence of a gene using oligonucleotides, was also honored with a

Nobel Prize. He too invited his former wife, their children, and

his girl friend to the ceremony. This kind of coincidence cannot be

assigned a statistical probability because it happens only

once.

　　I was informed that the proper dress for the awards ceremony was

white tie. I went to an Italian tailor in La Jolla and he made me a

beautiful set of white tails. About a week before I was to leave

for Sweden, I saw some photographs that had been taken at the 1992

ceremony. The laureates all were in black. White tie in spring or

summer means the suit is all white; white tie in the winter means a

white tie with a black suit. I was out of season.

　　The tailor made me the proper suit and shipped it to Sweden. I

had a suspicion that the white tails would not go to waste. When I

hung them in my closet in a mothproof bag, I thought, "Someday I

will get married in this outfit." I wore them four years later when

I married Nancy Cosgrove.

The American laureates were honored at the White House on our

way to Sweden. I was looking forward to meeting President Clinton

and Hillary Clinton. I had a plan. I thought that if I had the

opportunity to speak privately to the president, what I wanted to

know was, "Did they pass that joint back to you after you didn't

inhale? And didn't anybody tell you, 'Hey, Bill, that stuff's four

hundred dollars an ounce'?" If he was by himself, I figured, he

would have to smile. But the president simply rushed through the

room. We shook hands, cameras focused; he congratulated each of us

and was gone.

　　I did have the opportunity to speak with Hillary. At that time

she was in charge of American health care. I wondered whether she

really knew what she was doing. For example, did she know how the

health care system worked in Australia? I had the feeling that if I

asked her about it she would tell me that someone on her staff was

an expert on the subject. She told me exactly how the health care

system works in Australia. "Okay," I said. "How about Ireland? How

does it work in Ireland?" She told me exactly how the health care

system works in Ireland.

　　I came away thinking she was a smart woman. He's got a lot of

charm and is taller than I pictured him. It's easy to understand

how he got elected, but Hillary's the smart one.

　　December was a miserable time of year to be in Sweden. It was

cold and dark all the time. I had already come down with the flu.

But it was fun. The Swedish people take the awards very seriously,

and I think they enjoyed me because I did and I didn't. Rather than

being somber and stodgy, I believed it was a time to celebrate. I

had been awarded the most extraordinary prize bestowed on

scientists, and I was going to have a good time picking it

up.

　　Every morning I'd get up and go to lunch with the faculty of some

university. Then I'd give a lecture and rush back to the hotel to

dress for some formal event. Most of the time I behaved myself very

well. There was only one time when I almost got arrested, and that

was not entirely my fault. As a present, R. B. Haynes had given me

a little hand-held laser. It projects a red dot on the first solid

object in its path, no matter how far away that object is. It's

like pointing a very long finger.

　　In the long dark winter mornings of Stockholm I couldn't stop

playing with it. I would sit in my window in the Grand Hotel and

play with the Swedes. I'd shine the beam on the newspapers they

were reading or on the sidewalk in front of them as they walked

along. One morning a cab driver was smoking a cigarette, and I

shined the beam directly in front of him. When he noticed it, he

got up and returned to his cab, so I aimed it through the

windshield onto his dashboard. I thought it was a funny thing to do

until the police arrived.

　　I didn't know that a laser was often mounted on rifles and used

to aim. I also did not know that just about a year earlier someone

had been walking down a street in Stockholm, a red dot suddenly

appeared on his chest, and he'd been shot by a sniper. The cab

driver had seen me pointing the laser out of the third-floor

window. When he told the police, they were a little dubious,

explaining, "That's a Nobel laureate's suite." The three officers

at the door asked courteously, "Dr. Mullis, have you been shining a

red light out the window?" When I told them I had, they asked to

see it. They wanted to be sure it was not attached to a rifle. I

didn't blame them at all. I asked whether there was a law in Sweden

against shining a red light out a window. There was no such law,

they explained, but after the murder it did tend to make people

nervous. I didn't use the laser again in Sweden.

　　My first official duty was to give the Nobel lecture. Normally,

each laureate explains what he did to win the award and why he did

it. It's often a complicated speech that nobody understands but

everybody applauds. I decided I wanted to give a human account of

what was taking place in my life when I invented PCR, rather than a

technical explanation. "I'm going to try to explain how it was that

I invented the polymerase chain reaction," I said. "There's a bit

of it that will not easily translate into normal language. If that

part wasn't of interest to more than a handful of people here, I

would leave it out. What I will do instead is let you know when we

get to that and also when we are done with it. Don't trouble

yourself over it. It's esoteric and it's not crucial. I think you

can understand what it felt like to invent PCR without following

the details."

　　I proceeded to explain that I'd spent much of my life believing

that science was fun and that my invention was little more than an

extension of the things I had started doing as a child in Columbia,

South Carolina. I mentioned that it had not been my intention to

revolutionize the world of biochemistry when I invented PCR; PCR

was a tool I created because I needed it to do an experiment. In

truth, I was terribly na?ve, I said, and if I had had more

knowledge about what I was doing, PCR would never have been

invented.

　　Following the official presentation of the medal, the king and

queen hosted a banquet for about thirteen hundred people. We were

served by waiters dressed in medieval costume. And at that banquet

each new laureate has an audience with the king and queen. Mostly,

the royal couple and the new laureates engage in several moments of

small talk. I did not think the king would be interested in

oligonucleotides.

　　I took the opportunity to discuss a matter of importance. I knew

that the king and queen were very popular with the Swedish people

but that there were some problems with their daughter, the

sixteen-year-old princess. Apparently the tabloids had written some

negative things about her. "I wouldn't worry about it," I said.

"She's a sixteen-year-old princess. If she's tolerable at all,

she's fine. I'm sure she'll grow out of it." "In fact," I

continued, "I'm so confident about that, that I'm willing to offer

my son in marriage. He's just about the right age for her. And I

would be happy to have him marry your daughter in exchange for a

third of your kingdom."

　　My mother was thrilled to be in Sweden. I believe she had always

expected that at least one of her sons would win a Nobel Prize, but

she was most impressed with the fact that I was able to introduce

her to CNN correspondent Lou Dobbs. She had had a crush on him for

years, and for my mother, the most exciting part of the trip was

getting to sit next to Lou Dobbs.

　　I gave my final lecture in the city of Malm? and boarded a

hovercraft that was going to skim across the water to Copenhagen.

By that time my picture had been in every paper every day for a

week. As I sat down, a man wearing a big hat with a feather in it

came over to me. "Dr. Mullis," he said, "the people of Sweden love

you." And then in a great gesture, he took off his hat and bowed to

me. The people on the boat applauded. It was a perfect ending.

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书籍介绍

Here is a multidimensional playland of ideas from the world's most eccentric Nobel-Prize winning scientist. Kary Mullis is legendary for his invention of PCR, which redefined the world of DNA, genetics, and forensic science. He is also a surfer, a veteran of Berkeley in the sixties, and perhaps the only Nobel laureate to describe a possible encounter with aliens. A scientist of boundless curiosity, he refuses to accept any proposition based on secondhand or hearsay evidence, and always looks for the "money trail" when scientists make announcements.

Mullis writes with passion and humor about a wide range of topics: from global warming to the O. J. Simpson trial, from poisonous spiders to HIV, from scientific method to astrology. Dancing Naked in the Mind Field challenges us to question the authority of scientific dogma even as it reveals the workings of an uncannily original scientific mind.