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Am I dead?

The brain contains infinite space. This is my area of expertise, yet I feel the awe of ignorance

By Paul Broks   June 2001

I am sitting alone in the small seminar room on the tenth floor. This is known as “Harry’s room.” I am at the head of a long oak table, working at a laptop computer. The door is at my back and the single window at the other end of the room sheds a thin, early evening light. On the shelves are rows of display jars containing specimens of human brain, each suspended in a liquid the colour of watery piss. This is Harry’s collection. The specimens are arranged according to pathology: tumours, cerebrovascular disease, degenerative disorders, and so on. There…

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