“You’re strange,” said the faces in the playground. All the playgrounds: university pubs, department meetings, wedding receptions, retirement parties. And your good-humoured “Not really” or, more often, a smile and glance aside, was not just a denial of a charge, which you knew in any case was true, at least in this particular court of opinion. More than that, you felt shame, even despair, that the charge was not more true.
Do you have what it takes to be strange? The pioneer nerve?
Not just to break established laws, which requires the not inconsiderable courage of the criminal—but to find and live by your own laws, which requires the power and spirit of the outlaw.
Can you tack into the strangeness that is sanity?
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