W. W. Norton & Company

Rest, rest, poor lad," he said, turning the tap on so that all steam came burping out. "You've sinned, I suppose, but your punishment has been out of all proportion. They have turned you into something other than a human being. You have no power of choice any longer. You are committed to socially acceptable acts, a little machine capable only of good. And I see that clearly – that business about the marginal conditionings. Music and the sexual act, literature and art, all must be a source now not of pleasure but of pain."

He'd have to, wouldn't he, being a Christian? Well, now then," he said, still wiping the same plate he'd been wiping ten minutes ago, "we shall have a few people in to see you tomorrow. I think you can be used, poor boy. I think that you can help dislodge this overbearing Government. To turn a decent young man into a piece of clockwork should not, surely, be seen as any triumph for any government, save one that boasts of its repressiveness." He was still wiping this same plate.

F. Alexander seemed to think that we all like grow on what he called the world-tree in the world-orchard that like Bog or God planted, and we were there because Bog or God had need of us to quench his thirsty love, or some such cal. I didn't like the shoom of this at all, O my brothers, and wondered how bezoomny this F. Alexander really was, perhaps driven be-zoomny by his wife's snuffing it. But then he called me down in a like sane veck's goloss, full of joy and love and all that cal, so down Your Humble Narrator went.

Do I find myself able to slooshy the old Choral Symphony without being sick once more? Can I live like a normal jeezny again? What, sir, happens to me?" He looked at me, brothers, as if he hadn't thought of that before and, anyway, it didn't matter compared with Liberty and all that cal, and he had a look of surprise at me saying what I said, as though I was being like selfish in wanting something for myself.

Stop treating me like a thing that's like got to be just used. I'm not an idiot you can impose on, you stupid bratchnies. Ordinary prestoopnicks are stupid, but I'm not ordinary and nor am I dim. Do you slooshy?

also a sort of a design you could viddy clear enough in a certain light, so that I had one in th

describes opening up an artery, flushing the blood out with water, and pumping in alcohol. I've been to frat parties like that.

In India there’s a thing called an “awareness camp.” I first heard the term from a researcher at the Wildlife Institute of India who runs elephant and leopard awareness camps. I imagined a camp in the American sense, with bunk beds and marshmallows, and I tried to meld this in my head with large, dangerous animals. Naturally I wanted to go. As it turns out, an awareness camp is closer to a national awareness day. I’ve seen listings for dengue fever awareness camps, diabetes awareness camps, traffic safety awareness camps, and at least one Snoring and Sleep Apnea Awareness Camp, which sounds like our bedroom. They’re informational gatherings with the aim of making people aware of dangers they may not know much about or prefer not to think about and offering guidance in how best to avoid or survive them.

Every December that researcher, Dipanjan Naha, locks up his office in Dehradun, slaps a Government of India on duty placard on a hired four-wheel drive, and heads out on a sort of awareness camp road trip. This year his cousin Aritra is coming along as his assistant, and I’m in the car, too. We’re starting in North Bengal—confusingly, a region of West Bengal—where each year, wild elephants kill, on average, 47 people and injure another 164. Forty-seven people per year, in an area the size of Connecticut.