"Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!" - unam.

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eaches for the rejection stamp, doesn't ask me any questions, doesn't say anything; he just stamps my papers "REJECTED," and hands me my 4F paper, still looking at his desk. So I went out and got on the bus for Schenectady, and while I was riding on the bus I thought about the crazy thing that had happened, and I started to laugh out loud and I said to myself, "My God! If they saw me now, they would be sure!" When I finally got back to Schenectady I went in to see Harts Bethe. He was sitting behind his desk, and he said to me in a joking voice, "Well, Dick, did you pass?" I made a long face and shook my head slowly. "No." Then he suddenly felt terrible, thinking that they had discovered some serious medical problem with me, so he said in a concerned voice, "What's the matter, Dick?" I touched my finger to my forehead. He said, "No!" "Yes!" He cried, "Nooooooo!!!" and he laughed so hard that the roof of the General Electric Company nearly came off. I told the story to many other people, and everybody laughed, with a few exceptions. When I got back to New York, my father, mother, and sister called for me at the airport, and on the way home in the car I told them all the story. At the end of it my mother said, "Well, what should we do, Mel?" My father said, "Don't be ridiculous, Lucille. It's absurd!" So that was that, but my sister told me later that when we got home and they were alone, my father said, "Now, Lucille, you shouldn't have said anything in front of him. Now what should we do?" By that time my mother had sobered up, and she said, "Don't be ridiculous, Mel!" One other person was bothered by the story. It was at a Physical Society meeting dinner, and Professor Slater, my old professor at MIT, said, "Hey, Feynman! Tell us that story about the draft I heard." I told the whole story to all these physicists I didn't know any of them except Slater and they were all laughing throughout, but at the end one guy said, "Well, maybe the psychiatrist had something in mind." I said resolutely, "And what profession are you, sir?" Of course, that was a dumb question, because we were all physicists at a professional meeting. But I was surprised that a physicist would say something like that. He said, "Well, uh, I'm really not supposed to be here, but I came as the guest of my brother, who's a physicist. I'm a psychiatrist." I smoked him right out! After a while I began to worry. Here's a guy who's been deferred all during the war because he's working on the bomb, and the draft board gets letters saying he's important, and now he gets a "D" in "Psychiatric" it turns out he's a nut! Obviously he isn't a nut; he's just trying to make us believe he's a nut we'll get him! The situation didn't look good to me, so I had to find a way out. After a few days, I figured out a solution. I wrote a letter to the draft board that went something like this: Dear Sirs: I do not think I should be drafted because I am teaching science students, and it is
partly in the strength of our future scientists that the national welfare lies. Nevertheless, you may decide that I should be deferred because of the result of my medical report, namely, that I am psychiatrically unfit. I feel that no weight whatsoever should be attached to this report because I consider it to be a gross error. I am calling this error to your attention because I am insane enough not to wish to take advantage of it. Sincerely, R. P. Feynman Result: "Deferred. 4E Medical Reasons." The Dignified Professor Part 4 From Cornell to Caltech, With A Touch of Brazil I don't believe I can really do without teaching. The reason is, I have to have something so that when I don't have any ideas and I'm not getting anywhere I can say to myself, "At least I'm living; at least I'm doing something; I'm making some contribution" it's just psychological. When I was at Princeton in the 1940s I could see what happened to those great minds at the Institute for Advanced Study, who had been specially selected for their tremendous brains and were now given this opportunity to sit in this lovely house by the woods there, with no classes to teach, with no obligations whatsoever. These poor bas tards could now sit and think clearly all by themselves, OK? So they don't get any ideas for a while: They have every opportunity to do something, and they're not getting any ideas. I believe that in a situation like this a kind of guilt or depression worms inside of you, and you begin to worry about not getting any ideas. And nothing happens. Still no ideas come. Nothing happens because there's not enough real activity and challenge: You're not in contact with the experimental guys. You don't have to think how to answer questions from the students. Nothing! In any thinking process there are moments when everything is going good and you've got wonderful ideas. Teaching is an interruption, and so it's the greatest pain in the neck in the world. And then there are the longer periods of time when not much is coming to you. You're not getting any ideas, and if you're doing nothing at all, it drives you nuts! You can't even say "I'm teaching my class." If you're teaching a class, you can think about the elementary things that you know very well. These things are kind of fun and delightful. It doesn't do any harm to think them over again. Is there a better way to present them? Are there any new problems associated with them? Are there any new thoughts you can make about them? The
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"Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!
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Preface The stories in this book we
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He Fixes Radios by Thinking! Part 1
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could act like a microphone, and yo
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whole afternoon to find a burnedo
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For logarithms it was a big L exten
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very sharp knife into the table at
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and be more relaxed, and vice versa
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One time I danced with a certain gi
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same waitress all the time. I notic
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"Cut it out, Feynman; this is seri
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could find. Before I tell you what
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observations were made while I was
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I decided there must be an "interpr
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company. His father was the one who
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we could do. Our process was pretty
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out of me, because I didn't like fo
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In the Princeton cyclotron lab they
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When it was time to get up and go o
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and animal, are made of little bric
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some other experiment. I said, "Hel
Page 43 and 44: We figured if we could get rid of t
Page 45 and 46: do?" I said I didn't know, and he s
Page 47 and 48: always something I could find in th
Page 49 and 50: Atlantic City, where they had vario
Page 51 and 52: though it was a microscope of forty
Page 53 and 54: lowing" it occurred. I followed eig
Page 55 and 56: I asked the Bell Labs if they would
Page 57 and 58: the fuse won't burn! I decided that
Page 59 and 60: that he wanted to try to develop. H
Page 61 and 62: Mexico," the man says, "Oh, so all
Page 63 and 64: meantime, what instructions go down
Page 65 and 66: said, "No codes." So I wrote back t
Page 67 and 68: I looked at it and said, "That look
Page 69 and 70: people that I wanted were there, an
Page 71 and 72: different where you go first t
Page 73 and 74: concentrate on this one. So they st
Page 75 and 76: it was very difficult. Now, us
Page 77 and 78: was radioactive. It was plutonium.
Page 79 and 80: One guy tries to make something to
Page 81 and 82: Everybody was amazed. It was comple
Page 83 and 84: it appeared, depends on the same li
Page 85 and 86: Hoffman is just the kind of guy to
Page 87 and 88: mathematical constant?" "Oh, no!" d
Page 89 and 90: of little cubbyholes that contained
Page 91 and 92: himself! So I turn around, and sure
Page 93: "No. Do you?" "Well, I'm keeping an
Page 97 and 98: have any room either. I say to the
Page 99 and 100: answered the questions. Everything
Page 101 and 102: around faster than the wobbling. I
Page 103 and 104: ar, with all its "temptations," and
Page 105 and 106: level. . . "Excuse me, sir," I say,
Page 107 and 108: I liked to imitate being drunk, so
Page 109 and 110: you been?" At this moment the guy t
Page 111 and 112: "What?" "That's right," he said con
Page 113 and 114: After that, I tried to do those thi
Page 115 and 116: He was completely washed out, and l
Page 117 and 118: Monday, at the latest. I got all up
Page 119 and 120: The people from the airlines were s
Page 121 and 122: The boss said, "Where're you from?"
Page 123 and 124: eaches, where most people felt thei
Page 125 and 126: super: He answered everything nifty
Page 127 and 128: y first learning to pronounce the l
Page 129 and 130: Certainly, Mr. Big! I used to cross
Page 131 and 132: We were eating breakfast in the din
Page 133 and 134: "That must have been it," I said. I
Page 135 and 136: some kind of big pain, and it start
Page 137 and 138: the two piles of hay, with the extr
Page 139 and 140: I must refuse. The reason I have to
Page 141 and 142: hotel. I pushed open the doors and
Page 143 and 144: "Well, yes. . ." "Hoompf." And that
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something like, "May I observe your
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in fact, a prediction on top of wha
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"The one from SoandSo's book."
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government, or else I can't talk in
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et Jerry that he wouldn't be able t
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at the paper. Don't take your eyes
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She told me this story: She and her
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were these fluorescent colors on bl
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they came back and bought it. So th
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with the artists from time to time
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understand," and everybody else wou
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way to understand ethical problems
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families all the time, so that if a
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that they called "new math," and si
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awful! All it was was a game to get
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then there was something else. And
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one. Then the question came up, "Wi
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I got that shock about three or fou
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had been brought up by my father ag
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She turned to me and said, "Oh! You
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astronomy. *When I was a young prof
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After the colloquium at UCLA Profes
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So the fella who'd been talking to
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andleader said, "Geez! Who was that
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who had come out at the beginning o
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"This is the place," the receptioni
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my way down again. At first it took
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external to the internal psychologi
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people with commonsense ideas are i
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think to laymen. For example, I was
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to have such a policy in teaching
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