scientist

今天早上去买车票，被告知31号的只能明天买。昨天磅礴问我行李开始收拾没？我说没有，到现在只要一想到有那么多的东西要收拾就绝望。然后回家后就把新的行李箱拖出来把该塞进去的东西塞进去，刚整理了几件衣服裤子就觉得受不了了，把东西扔到一边跑来上网。

刚打开豆瓣，发现一个豆友的邮件，说他要来武汉玩，对武汉的建筑游有什么建议？我读了以后就懵了。从出生到现在，我才发现武汉是那么陌生，我也从来没有激情去发掘她，比如淘有特色的店子，有特色的建筑，有特色的吃的，武汉的历史，我都陌生，营营切切到现在。我困扰起来，拼命在脑子里搜我走过的路——那么重复单调；我看过的东西——那么模糊没有细节。接着我就去汉网上搜，才发现，这是个多么本土的网站啊，那么多好贴，我之前居然都只看个标题。渐渐的，我回忆起一些很朦胧的片断，关于这座城市的。一桥，是的，一定要步行，和不同的朋友，在白天或晚上，晴天或下雨，几乎每年一定去去的；东湖，骑车或者步行，傍晚或深夜，冬天或者夏天，一定要去的；还有无意间路过的小巷子，油熏的古老的墙，养着花儿的窗台，小猫或者小狗，还有外婆家从前的那个小巷子……武汉的味道就是水的味道和油的味道。

后来在QQ上碰到张中杰，他说一路走好的时候，我正在和雷子聊古德寺，忽然毫无征兆的哭出来。我真的好舍不得这边的朋友们，大学的那帮可爱的孩子们，他们的脸就在眼前浮现。想着去年送走强叔，我哭得像个疯子，至今都被他们耻笑，现在这种悲伤又升起来，就像，好了，从此以后，就不会有这样简单的快乐了。这是实话。昨天还背着球拍和默默他们打球，他请客吃饭，唱歌，和他师姐开着玩笑，那么那么单纯和简单。我说明天我请客吃火锅，磅礴说火锅太贵了，我说那我们去豪门盛宴，欢欢说，不要，太贵了，等他下课了再跟我商量去哪里吃。小林说，最好能买2008响的鞭炮，欢送我离开，庆祝大家脱离魔爪。一想到，走了以后就再也不能和大家开心得跟疯子一样，我就难过到极点。明天大家吃饭的时候，但愿我不要哭，破坏最后的愉快气氛……

说到底，我还是极害怕一个人孤零零的。这么大年纪了，连个孩子都不如。我真害怕在火车站和爸妈说再见的时候，唉，我也真是太幼稚……到现在还在哭！！！！

我的仙人掌又死了，我既没有过度浇水又没有过度暴晒，它还是死！从根烂到茎，然后整棵植物歪倒，我简直是无话可说了！你们谁死过的仙人掌比我的多？我的就没有活过，甚至以前的一棵在小钵子里奄奄一息了，我把它插在爷爷门前的土里，它居然一丛一丛生机勃勃，就快赶上它的老家北美了！关键是，我并没有打算把它们养死啊！就像这棵，我也就浇水过2次而已，还打算等我走了便把它托付给帆帆的，现在得了！只能说，武汉的空气湿度太大不适合仙人掌居住。

我发现最近我的爱心泛滥，特别是自从前阵子在山上把滚的满身臭水的西西扔进小池塘以后，我便发现看着小动物的眼神真是难受，包括我家那只这几个月生长过于迅速的小乌龟，每天跟超人一样贴着盆儿壁抻着脑袋往外眺望的小眼睛珠子，我简直想把它给放生。而我妈最近又整出一堆平常不进门的东西，比如泥鳅还有鳖……那些小泥鳅翘着小鳍满盆子钻，一撒盐就跟油炸的油花子一样蹦得几尺高，我听到那声音就心如刀绞。还有鳖，在水池子里面缩在角落里面，转着绿豆眼。前几天腿伤，一同学说另一同学会从家里带来若干鳖，就把脚留给我吃。。。今天偏偏还死了棵最不可能死的植物，稀糊糊的汁液从根茎相连的土面流出来，太可怜了。。。虽然没有直接参与杀戮，我觉得我已经最不可赦了。上帝啊，我那儿来的这么博的爱啊！最近一定雌性激素分泌异常。

圆子前几天突然抽痉，提出来了一个我们曾经开过玩笑完全没有当真的计划来，我就应了，现在发现，实施起来真是困难，更难的是开头哪。。。昨晚两人例行散步，却被一个龊男跟踪！真是寒得我无以言表，圆子同志开始唏嘘，要是能有个男朋友多好啊！谈到这种话题，我总是眼前模糊，没有憧憬，我爸给我算过，我命里有孤星，典型婚姻不顺的tag。可怜了我如此泛滥的激素们，只能自己代谢掉，自生自灭，无他。

Carrie一如往常用精干的专栏作家声音说了，现在的纽约妞在找两样东西——lables and love。即名牌和爱情。不止是纽约妞，我想全世界的妞都在找这两个L。

我只能望着这两个L兴叹，一没钱，二没魅力。想想，从1998年到2004这个跨越一个世纪的6年中，SEX AND THE CITY虏获了多少女孩儿的心啊，这些女人中有追鞋子，追名包，名裙子，名地产的物质女，也有向往纽约中产阶级自由生活，性开放，理智对待爱情的浪漫主义女，也有主题极其强烈的女权主义女，我也是其中之一。但我不得不说，这整整6季电视剧加上今年5月份终极的电影版——太扯了。

最扯的是“4”。4个关系极铁的女人做朋友，不论是剧集还是电影，都在强调咱现在的纽约这样四个四个成双的平方出现的女人越来越多了。我不得不承认，我从来没有同时和大于等于3个的女孩儿玩儿过，即使勉强算上大学寝室的妞，她们也因为某些原因冷战了2年。身边的朋友，最多也是总共3个人能相安无事的呆在一起。而且越到后来，妞们一个个找到郎君，更是不待见我这样的单身户。你看我连3个人都凑不齐，怎么叫4个？除非打麻将。有女人就有矛盾，没有矛盾也是皮笑肉不笑逢场作戏罢了，我只能这么歹毒地想。或者，四个人单纯一点儿，在一起就讨论一类事情：吃穿住行。我想时间久了，在这个小样方里面便会渐渐渗透进竞争元素，于是结果还是一样。友谊在大多数时间里，是两个人的事情。

其次，这两个L是目前以及今后大于等于5年的时间内离我最遥远的东西。远得我都不好意思描述。我们眼睁睁看着Carrie在六年之中，从一开始大头像只能出现在八卦报纸的专栏作家介绍上，到巨大的半裸海报贴在公汽上满Bronx游荡；从爱情空谈到找到Mr.Big；从把积蓄全部用来买鞋子，到请助理帮忙收拾屋子，天啊，人家这一路走来，lables和love多如繁星。再看看我和多如牛毛的我这类的女孩儿，从一开始抓耳挠腮考试，到一脸蜡黄孤老在实验室里，5年就这么飞过去。

不过，好歹Carrie是用自己的脑袋思考的，不像现在太多人只用胸。仅此纪念4个女人的纽约太阳般耀眼的友谊在电视上划上句号。

Don't Become a Scientist!

Jonathan I. Katz

Professor of Physics

Washington University, St. Louis, Mo.

[my last name]@wuphys.wustl.edu


Are you thinking of becoming a scientist? Do you want to uncover the
mysteries of nature, perform experiments or carry out calculations to learn
how the world works? Forget it!

Science is fun and exciting. The thrill of discovery is unique. If you are
smart, ambitious and hard working you should major in science as an
undergraduate. But that is as far as you should take it. After graduation,
you will have to deal with the real world. That means that you should not
even consider going to graduate school in science. Do something else
instead: medical school, law school, computers or engineering, or something
else which appeals to you.

Why am I (a tenured professor of physics) trying to discourage you from
following a career path which was successful for me? Because times have
changed (I received my Ph.D. in 1973, and tenure in 1976). American science
no longer offers a reasonable career path. If you go to graduate school in
science it is in the expectation of spending your working life doing
scientific research, using your ingenuity and curiosity to solve important
and interesting problems. You will almost certainly be disappointed,
probably when it is too late to choose another career.

American universities train roughly twice as many Ph.D.s as there are jobs
for them. When something, or someone, is a glut on the market, the price
drops. In the case of Ph.D. scientists, the reduction in price takes the
form of many years spent in ``holding pattern'' postdoctoral jobs.
Permanent jobs don't pay much less than they used to, but instead of
obtaining a real job two years after the Ph.D. (as was typical 25 years
ago) most young scientists spend five, ten, or more years as postdocs. They
have no prospect of permanent employment and often must obtain a new
postdoctoral position and move every two years. For many more details
consult the Young Scientists' Network or read the account in the May, 2001
issue of the Washington Monthly.

As examples, consider two of the leading candidates for a recent Assistant
Professorship in my department. One was 37, ten years out of graduate
school (he didn't get the job). The leading candidate, whom everyone thinks
is brilliant, was 35, seven years out of graduate school. Only then was he
offered his first permanent job (that's not tenure, just the possibility of
it six years later, and a step off the treadmill of looking for a new job
every two years). The latest example is a 39 year old candidate for another

Assistant Professorship; he has published 35 papers. In contrast, a doctor
typically enters private practice at 29, a lawyer at 25 and makes partner
at 31, and a computer scientist with a Ph.D. has a very good job at 27
(computer science and engineering are the few fields in which industrial
demand makes it sensible to get a Ph.D.). Anyone with the intelligence,
ambition and willingness to work hard to succeed in science can also
succeed in any of these other professions.

Typical postdoctoral salaries begin at $27,000 annually in the biological
sciences and about $35,000 in the physical sciences (graduate student
stipends are less than half these figures). Can you support a family on
that income? It suffices for a young couple in a small apartment, though I
know of one physicist whose wife left him because she was tired of
repeatedly moving with little prospect of settling down. When you are in
your thirties you will need more: a house in a good school district and all
the other necessities of ordinary middle class life. Science is a
profession, not a religious vocation, and does not justify an oath of
poverty or celibacy.

Of course, you don't go into science to get rich. So you choose not to go
to medical or law school, even though a doctor or lawyer typically earns
two to three times as much as a scientist (one lucky enough to have a good
senior-level job). I made that choice too. I became a scientist in order to
have the freedom to work on problems which interest me. But you probably
won't get that freedom. As a postdoc you will work on someone else's ideas,
and may be treated as a technician rather than as an independent
collaborator. Eventually, you will probably be squeezed out of science
entirely. You can get a fine job as a computer programmer, but why not do
this at 22, rather than putting up with a decade of misery in the
scientific job market first? The longer you spend in science the harder you
will find it to leave, and the less attractive you will be to prospective
employers in other fields.

Perhaps you are so talented that you can beat the postdoc trap; some
university (there are hardly any industrial jobs in the physical sciences)
will be so impressed with you that you will be hired into a tenure track
position two years out of graduate school. Maybe. But the general
cheapening of scientific labor means that even the most talented stay on
the postdoctoral treadmill for a very long time; consider the job
candidates described above. And many who appear to be very talented, with
grades and recommendations to match, later find that the competition of
research is more difficult, or at least different, and that they must
struggle with the rest.

Suppose you do eventually obtain a permanent job, perhaps a tenured
professorship. The struggle for a job is now replaced by a struggle for
grant support, and again there is a glut of scientists. Now you spend your
time writing proposals rather than doing research. Worse, because your
proposals are judged by your competitors you cannot follow your curiosity,
but must spend your effort and talents on anticipating and deflecting
criticism rather than on solving the important scientific problems. They're
not the same thing: you cannot put your past successes in a proposal,
because they are finished work, and your new ideas, however original and
clever, are still unproven. It is proverbial that original ideas are the
kiss of death for a proposal; because they have not yet been proved to work
(after all, that is what you are proposing to do) they can be, and will be,
rated poorly. Having achieved the promised land, you find that it is not
what you wanted after all.

What can be done? The first thing for any young person (which means anyone
who does not have a permanent job in science) to do is to pursue another
career. This will spare you the misery of disappointed expectations. Young
Americans have generally woken up to the bad prospects and absence of a
reasonable middle class career path in science and are deserting it. If you
haven't yet, then join them. Leave graduate school to people from India and
China, for whom the prospects at home are even worse. I have known more
people whose lives have been ruined by getting a Ph.D. in physics than by
drugs.

If you are in a position of leadership in science then you should try to
persuade the funding agencies to train fewer Ph.D.s. The glut of scientists
is entirely the consequence of funding policies (almost all graduate
education is paid for by federal grants). The funding agencies are
bemoaning the scarcity of young people interested in science when they
themselves caused this scarcity by destroying science as a career. They
could reverse this situation by matching the number trained to the demand,
but they refuse to do so, or even to discuss the problem seriously (for
many years the NSF propagated a dishonest prediction of a coming shortage
of scientists, and most funding agencies still act as if this were true).
The result is that the best young people, who should go into science,
sensibly refuse to do so, and the graduate schools are filled with weak
American students and with foreigners lured by the American student visa.


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※ 来源:·日月光华 bbs.fudan.edu.cn·[FROM: 147.8.153.194]
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※ 转载:·日月光华 bbs.fudan.edu.cn·[FROM: 10.100.140.28]

   转载自 Chemistry 讨论区

 
  
  


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※ 来源:·生命玄机BBS bbs.cst.sh.cn·[FROM: 202.127.16.22]

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What I want to say :

1,  This guy hates Asian grad students.

2, He despises young students majoring science nowadays.

3, and you have to admit that he was telling the truth.

EXCERPTIONS:

     p4
　　In idle moments,when they were no presshing matters to be dealt with,and when everybody seemed to be sleepy from the heat,she would sit under her acacia tree.It was a dusty place to sit,and the ckickens would occasionally come and peck about her feet,but it was here that Mma Romotswe weould contemplate some of the issues which,in everyday life,may so easily be pushed to one side.
　　Everything,thought Mma Ramotswe,has been something before.Here I am,the only private detective in the whole Botswana,sitting in front of my detective agency.But only a few years ago there was no detective agency,and before that,before there were even any buildings here,there were just the acacia trees,and the riverbed in the distance,and the Kalahari over there,so close.
　　In those days there was no Botswana even,just the Bechuanaland Protectorate,and before that again there was Khama's Country,and lions with the dry wind in their manes.But look ar in now: a detective agency,right here in Gaborone,with me,the fat lady detective,sitting outside and thinking these thoughts about how what is one thing today becomes quite another thing tomorrow.
　　
　　p61
　　The lawyer winced as she spoke."It's easy to lose money in business,"he said."Especially when you don't know anything about what you're doing."He stared at her hard."Especially then,And anyway,can women be detectives?Do you think they can?"
　　"Why not?"said Mma Ramotswe.She had heard that people did not like lawyers,and now she thought she could see why.This man was so certain of himself,so utterly convinced.What had it to do with him what she did?It was her money,her future.And how dare he say that about women,when he didn't even know that his zip was half undone!Should she tell him?
　　"Women are the ones who know what's going on,"she said quietly."They are the ones with eyes.Have you not heard of Agatha Christie?"
　　The lawyer looked taken back."Agatha Christie?Of course I know her.Yes,that is true.A woman sees more than a man sees.That is well-known."
　　"So,"said Mma Ramotswe,"when people see a sign saying NO.1 Ladies' Detective Agency,what will them think?They'll think those ladies will know what's going on.They're the ones."
　　The lawyer stroked his chin."Maybe."
　　"Yes,"said Mma Ramotswe."Maybe."Adding,"Your zip,Rra.I think you may not have noticed..."
　　
　　p63
　　In her heart of hearts,she knew there would be no clients.The whole idea was a ghastly mistake.Nobody wanted a private detective,and certainly nobody would want her.Who was she,after all? Shw was just Precious Ramotswe from Mochudi.She had never been to London or wherever detectives went to find out how to be private detectives.She had never ever been to Johannesburg,What if somebody came in and said "You know Johananesburg of course,"she would have to lie,or just say nothing.
　　Mna Makutsi looked at her,and then looked down at the typewriter keyboard.She opened a drawer,peered inside,and then closed it.At that moment a hen came into the room from the yard outside and pecked at something at the floor.
　　"Get out."Shouted Mma Makutsi,"No chickens in here!"
　　
　　p132
　　The house had been built in 1968,when the town inched out from the shops and the Govenment Buildings,It was on a corner site,which was not always a good thing,as people would sometimes stand on that corner,under the thorn trees that grew there, and spit into her garden,or throw their rubbish over her fence.At first,when she saw them doing that,she would shout from the window,or bang a dustbin lid at them.but they seemed to have no shame,these people,and they just laughed.So she gave up,and the young man who did her garden for her every third day would just pick up the rubbish and put it away.That was the only problem with that house,For the rest,Mma Ramotswe was fiercely proud of it,and daily reflected on her good fortune in being able to buy it when she did,just before house prices went so high that honest people could no longer pay them.
　　
　　p182
　　Mr J.L.B Matekoni nodded.It had been easy to break the windscreen and scatter the fragments of glass about the car.It had been easy to telephone Mr Gotso's house and report that the car had been broken into;but this part was more difficult--this was lying to somebody's face.It's Mma Ramotswe's fault,he thought.I am a simple mechanic.I didn't ask to get involved in these rediculous detective games,I am just too weak.
　　And he was --when it came to Mma Ramotswe.She could ask anything of him,and he would comply.Mr J.LB Matekoni even had a fantasy,unconfessed,guiltily enjoyed in which he helped Mma Ramotswe.They were in the Kalahari together and Mma Ramotswe was threatened by a lion.He called out,drawing the lion's atterntion to him,and the animal turned and snarled.This gave her the chance to escape,while he dispatched the lion with a hunting knife;an innocent enough fantasy,one might have thought,except for one thing:Mma Ramostwe was wearing no clothes.
　　He would have loved to save her,naked or otherwise,from a lion,but this was different.He had even had to make a false report to the police,which had really frightened him,even if they had not even bothered to come round to investigate,He was a criminal now,he supposed,and it was all becouse he was weak.He should have said no.He should have told Mma Romatswe that it was not her job to be a crusader.
　　
　　p212
　　Mma Ramotswe moved forward gingerly,placing each foot carefully and expecting at any moment to hear a hiss from a protesting snake,But nothing moved,and she was soon crouching under a mulberry tree as close as she dared to get to the house,From the shade of the tree she had a good view of the back door and the open kitchen window,yet she could not see into the house itself,as it was of the old colonial style,with wide eaves,which made the interior cool and dark.It was far easier to spy on people who live in modern houses,becouse architects today had forgetten about the sun and put people in goldfish bowls where the whole world could peer in through large unprotected windows,should they so desire.
　　Now what should she do?She could stay where she was in the hope that somebody came out of the back door,but why should they bother to do that?And if they did,then what would she do?
　　Suddenly a window at te back of the house opened and a man leaned out,It was Dr Komoti.
　　"You!You over there!Yes,you,fat lady!What are you doing sitting under out mulberry tree?"
　　Mma Ramotswe experienced a sudden,absurd urge to look over her shoulder ,as if to imply that there was somebody else under the tree.She felt like a schoolgirl caught stealing fruit,or doing some other forbidden act.There was nothing one could say;one just had to own up.
　　
　　p215
　　She knew the railway station slightly.It was a place that she enjoyed visiting,as it reminded her of the old Africa,the days of uncomfortable companionship on crowded trains,of slow journeys across great plains, of the sugarcane you used to eat to while away the time,and of the pitch of the cane you used to spit out of the wide windows.Here you could still see it--or a part of it--here,where the trains that came from the Cape pulled slowly past the platform on their journey up through Botswana to Bulawayo;here,where the Indian stores beside the railway buildings still sold cheap blankets and men't hats with a garish feather tucked into the band.
　　Mma Ramotswe did not want Afica to change.She did not want her people to become like everybody else,soulless,selfish,forgetful of what it means to be an Afircan,or worse still.ashamed fo Afica.She would not be anything but Afican,never,even if somebody came up to her and said"Here is a pill,the very latest thing.Take it and it will make you into an Amecian."She would say no.Never.No thank you.
　　
　　p234
　　The sun went,and it was dark.He sat beside her in the comfortable darkness and they listened,contentedly,to the sounds of Afica settling down for the night.A dog barked somewhere;a car engine raced and then died away;there was a touch of wind,warm dusty wind,redolent of thorn trees.
　　He looked at her in the darkness,at this woman who was everything to him--mother,Africa,wisdom,understanding,good things to eat,pumpkins,chickens,the smell of sweet cattle breath,the white sky across the endless,endless bush,and the giraffe that cried,giving its tears for women to daub on their baskets;O Botswana,my country,my place.
　　Those were his thoughts.But how could he say any of that to her?Any time he tried to tell her what was in his heart,the words which came to him seemed so inadequate.A mechanic cannot be a poet,he thought,that is not how things are.So he simply said:
　　"I am very happy that I fixed your van for you.I would have been sorry if somebody esle had lied to you and said it was not worth fixing.There are people like that in the motor trade."
　　"I know,"said Mma Romatswe."But you are not like that."
　　He said nothing,There were times when you simply had to speak,or you would have your lifetime ahead to regret not speaking.ut every time he had tried to speak to her of what was in his heart,he had failed.He had already asked her to marry him and that had not been a great success.He did not have a great deal of confidence,at least with people;cars were different,of course.
　　"I am very happy sitting here with you..."
　　She turned to him."What did you say?"
　　"I said,please marry me,Mma Ramotswe.I am just Mr J.L.B.Matekoni,that's all,but please marry me and make me happy."
　　"Of course I will,"said Mma Ramotswe.

感谢燕子把这本书从美国带回来。

      Ramotswe女士在博茨瓦纳开了第一家侦探事务所，同时也是第一家女士的侦探事务所。但这本书并不是一本侦探小说，你要知道，简单的叙述，一个fat lady在她的tiny white van里走过博茨瓦纳的每个角落，和邻近的地方帮博茨瓦纳善良淳朴的人们解决生活中的疑团——这是她，她的朋友和她的同胞们对博茨瓦纳的热爱。
　　
　　你读这本轻盈的书，感觉到的是非洲干燥的空气，密密匆匆的灌木，小房子，马克杯里面的茶，南瓜，牛群，清清淡淡的颜色，就像童话一样。是的，这简直就是童话。你不能用“现实”这个词来批评它，它不现实吗？Ramotswe的老爸爸年轻时做矿工的凶险经历，贫困，毒品，谋杀，巫术，以及吐着信子的眼镜蛇，都若有若无地藏在在这本可爱的书的每个角落中。世界的美丽只存在于视之美丽的人的眼中。
　　
　　正是因为这本小说没有花里胡哨的情节，安安静静的，所以闻起来没有商业的味道。

     我最喜欢的电影是<Out Of Africa>，道理就和无数男生最钟爱教父一样。<走出非洲>和这本小说相似的地方就是，若有若无的狮子，非洲美丽到要心脏停止的大草原，回想电影里小滑翔机上两人低头凝视的非洲，电影中的那段音乐就会在耳朵里响起。其次是非洲那些纯朴黝黑的人们，在殖民岁月中不得不改变自己的生活方式，同时捍卫自己的文化。 就如同Mma Ramotswe想的：She would not be anything but Afican,never,even if somebody came up to her and said"Here is a pill,the very latest thing.Take it and it will make you into an Amecian."She would say no.Never.No thank you.