Credit: Illustration by Jim Tsinganos

Along with three hundred other new undergraduates and one very startled lecturer, I first became aware of Alistair Bartlett when he stood up and interrupted our first-year physics lecture on electromagnetism. He was about 17, spotty faced, and determined, even then.

"I reformulated Maxwell's original 20 equations for E.M. radiation as tensors in the complex plane," he said in a flat voice, without prelude, "with the electric field as the real component and the magnetic field as the imaginary". People around him looked at each other, wondering if he was for real. "My analysis of the results suggests that the speed of light is not locally invariant," he continued. "Do you think the Michelson-Morley null result could be explained by a net zero flow on a highly turbulent current in a near-space luminiferous ether?"

"I have no idea," was the unsettled answer from the lecturer. "Please sit down and do not interrupt again."

In second-year thermodynamics he rose and said: "Lord Kelvin admitted that the second law of thermodynamics, in which entropy production is necessarily positive, is valid only for large systems over long time scales. Newton's deterministic equations of motion for sub-nanometre-scale protein motors and nano-devices indicate that these machines are time-reversible with the consumption of entropy."

My fellow students rolled their eyes, growing impatient with his ridiculous interruptions.

"Given the Fluctuation Theorem, which suggests that entropy consumption can occur over all time scales, could self-replicating nano-machines be used to build a device that reverses macro-world entropy?"

"Sit down and shut up, Bartlett," came the answer from the lectern.

In third-year nuclear physics: "I find the notion that subatomic particles are made of superstrings ludicrous. My research suggests that subatomic particles are better explained as coherent vortical structures in the background Dirac bivacuum."

"Get out of my lecturer theatre," was the incensed reply. "And stay out."

"Without the need for 10 spatial dimensions," Alistair added over his shoulder, departing.

The faculty finally had enough of Alistair's superior attitude and off-the-wall thinking. Professors, lecturers, tutors, and lab demonstrators complained equally of his obstinate behaviour and disregard for accepted theory. A few months short of final exams, Alistair was expelled as an irredeemable nuisance.

I had attempted several times to befriend the bright but socially inept Alistair but to no avail. This time I went to offer my condolences.

"If you want a friend," he said to me in response, "get a puppy."

Alistair was obviously sharp and astute but he didn't have two nice cells in his whole body to rub together.

I persevered. "My name is John Hooper. I was sorry to hear you've been kicked out."

"I don't care," he said. "I've learnt all I need to. I'm going to go and make my millions."

I laughed. Alistair didn't, just looked at me blankly. "I don't joke," he said.

No shit. "So, what're you going to do?"

"Lotto," he said. I knew it wasn't an attempt at humour, but I found it difficult to keep a straight face.