In eighth grade, I sat next to the smartest kid in the class–not the one who had the best grades, mind you, (he couldn’t be bothered to try too hard)–but nevertheless, he was the smartest, possibly bordering on brilliant. Everybody knew it in that way kids sense intuitively how they stack up with the rest of their classmates, whether in sports, music, computers, reading or brains. One day in the spring of that year I chanced to ask my smart …


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