Mind Control

摘要

Matthew Nagle is beating me at Pong, "Ok, baby," he mutters. The creases in his forehead deepen as he moves the onscreen paddle to block the ball, "C'mon - here you go," he says, sending a wicked angle shot ricocheting down the screen and past my defense. "Yes!" he says in triumph, his voice hoarse from the ventilator that helps him breathe. "Let's go again, dude." The remarkable thing about Nagle is not that he plays skillfully; it's that he can play at all. Nagle is a C4 quadriplegic, paralyzed from the neck down in a stabbing three years ago. He pilots a motorized wheelchair by blowing into a sip-and-puff tube, his pale hands strapped to the armrests. He's playing Pong with his thoughts alone. A bundle of wires as thick as a coaxial cable runs from a connector in Nagle's scalp to a refrigerator-sized cart of electronic gear. Inside his brain, a tiny array of microelectrodes picks up the cacophony of his neural activity; processors recognize the patterns associated with arm motions and translate them into signals that control the Pong paddle, draw with a cursor, operate a TV, and open email.