How are you doing on the village barber? Nothing? Well, here’s something more practical to wonder about: it seems, since my interrogators can’t hear me and I do seem to be awake and alive—and able at least somewhat to listen to them—that I’m now thinking in a hidden neural pattern, a kind of mental priest hole that uses a different structure of connections in the brain. Brains are complex. Slice yours in a given direction, you’ll find one memory, one behaviour. Slice it in another, and you get something else arranged across the same cells. Only, obviously, don’t slice them at all. It’s not a good idea.