“Heaven would be an adequate punishment for a slovenly, drunken brute.” I read all of Chaucer, untranslated. All of Chaucer, Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Tennyson, and Ezra Pound. That was supposedly my punishment because I wanted to be different like writing on the chalkboard one thousand times “Other people are human, too.” But what good has it done me? Now I’m more different than before. I won’t wear T-shirts that advertise products; I cannot stand to watch TV; I cannot talk about sports; I don’t care to be as others are.