Synthesis Paper Quotes

And yet from what is to what could be you cross a bridge that takes you, no more, no less, from Hell to Paradise. And more bizarre: a Paradise composed of the exact same material as Hell. The only difference is our perception of the material’s arrangement – more easily understood by imagining it applied to ethical and emotional architectures – yet it’s enough to pinpoint the immeasurable difference. If the reality created by people whose half-mast emotions and sensations disallow, now and perhaps forever, the other architecture or, in other words, the revolutionary re-synthesis, then, to my thinking, only the spirit is free and able to take it on.

In the fall of 2000 I started getting calls and emails from people asking me to erase their memories. Karim Nader, Glenn Schafe, and I had recently published a paper in the journal Nature with a rather technical title, “Fear Memories Require Protein Synthesis in the Lateral Amygdala for Reconsolidation after Retrieval.”3 In this study we conditioned rats with a tone and shock and then later presented them with the tone alone after a drug that blocks protein synthesis had been infused in the lateral amygdala (LA), a key area of the amygdala where the tone-shock association is stored. When tested the following day, or at any time afterward, the rats behaved as though they had never been conditioned. The procedure, in other words, seemed to erase the memory that the tone was a signal of danger. Toward the end of the short piece, we proposed that it might be possible to use a technique like this (but without having to inject a drug directly into the amygdala) to dampen traumatic memory in people with PTSD.

There are two major problems with pseudo-profundity. The first is that it masks the real meaning of just about everything. Despite the fact that it is pretentious and annoying, bullshit artists use it because people often accept pseudo-profundity as a substitute for thinking hard and clearly about “the expert’s” message, goals, and directions. The Sokal Hoax Article is a case in point. A professor of mathematics at University College London and a professor of physics at New York University, Alan Sokal found himself increasingly dissatisfied with postmodern cultural scholarship. He decided to test the field’s intellectual rigor by submitting for publication “Transgressing the Boundaries: Towards a Transformative Hermeneutics of Quantum Gravity” to Social Text, a top postmodern cultural studies journal whose editors included luminaries such as Fredric Jameson and Andrew Ross. Unbeknownst to the editors, Sokal’s manuscript was a hoax. It appeared to be a synthesis of relevant literature, but was instead full of pretentious-sounding, pseudoscientific nonsense. If Sokal’s study had any hypothesis at all, it was that he could get an article, liberally salted with utter nonsense, accepted for publication in a leading cultural studies journal. All Sokal really needed to do was flatter the editors’ ideological preconceptions and ensure that the paper sounded good. The paper was accepted. The editors of Social Text were unable to discern real theory from Sokal’s pseudo-profound bullshit because it made as much sense as other pseudo-profound papers they were publishing in their journal.

On Degenerate Templates and the Adaptor Hypothesis: A Note for the RNA Tie Club,” which Crick sent out early in 1955, is the first of his master-works about protein synthesis and the coding problem. By 1966, he had written two dozen papers related to the subject. Six at least were of great and general importance. Two of those included experiments and were written with collaborators. One more paper, of pleasing ingenuity, happened to be wrong: nature turned out to be less elegant than Crick’s imagination. Of the entire run, however, this first was the most unprecedented and original. The paper defined the next questions, and many were new questions. More, it established the way the questions were to be approached, and the terms in which they were to be argued. Most generally, it took for granted that the questions were spatial, physical, logical, easy to apprehend, and therefore tractable and even—in principle—simple. Yet even now, only a few hundred people have ever read the paper—for the surprising reason that it has never been published. It remained a note for the RNA Tie Club: seventeen foolscap pages, typewritten, double-spaced, mimeographed.