The leader of a discussion pontificates about the Leather Man, a tall, leather-clad hermit who lives on the land and struggles good-heartedly through any interaction. He is just like the city beggars, the leader says, and everyone is becoming suspicious of their growing ranks. Danger grows just like spiritual events do, events like Woodstock. And whether or not hermitage is spiritual, why do hermits hide out? Politicians and artists impose order, but regular old Joes can be the start of revolution.

The discussion leader composes a class of outcasts, among them streetwalkers, disabled people, hermits, and prisoners. He recounts going out looking for one such person, finding and detailing the behavior of a homeless woman throughout the night. Bancroft, a discussion partner, suggests a categorical distinction between “simple and profound dereliction.” They recount the discovery of a peeping tom watching the recently widowed Mrs. Morris Wakefield. Slater, another discussion member, asked to speak with the imprisoned peeping tom, who claimed to be the owner of the Wakefield property.

The dialogue turns to women, and then back to the Leather Man. His purpose, the leader asserts, is to sharpen perceptions through estrangement, allowing one to the world not subjectively but from a distance. And then an astronaut is brought up, who, since he was welcomed back, became a felon for car thief and assault. He responds blankly to psychiatric questioning, saying he doesn’t remember the experience of space at all. The group engages in a dialogical experiment, putting together word combinations, considering words as resources; as information reflecting experience.