When I tentatively announced myself, he yelled without turning, What’s your birthday! Uh, June 23, I said. His office overflowed with books, journals, food wrappers and paper polyhedrons, many dangling from the ceiling. Hair tumbled down his back, his sagging pants exposed his ass-cleft. the “ mathematical magician.” I met him in 1993 in Princeton while working on “ The Death of Proof.” When I poked my head into his office, Conway was sitting with his back to me staring at a computer. Before I get to the serious stuff, a quick story about John Conway, a.k.a.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |