I used to be a bit ashamed of this. Being a nerd doesn't win you any friends at school. It makes you stick out, makes people uncomfortable. I became aware I was a nerd from when I was really young - probably around eight. I'd read a "How Things Work" book and my mates from across the road weren't interested in my attempts to explain how atom bombs worked. Of course, when you're that young, it's hard to know the difference.
The thumping strains of Katchafire are drifting - well, not drifting, more like pummelling - through my open window as I type. A big crowd hasn't been the slightest bit deterred by some flimsy rain and is skankin' it up on the Village Brown. The giant service station overhang is doing a good job of keeping the punters out of the wet. Chief Plastics Engineer/Vice-Chancellor Roy Crawford can be happy. The Hub project is his baby, and there's no way the old shops could have kept quite as many people happy and dry. A quintillion dollars well spent.
There are a bunch of things I feel obligated to dispense with in the opening editorial. Editorials usually take the form of critiquing a given issue with the implicit suggestion that whatever you’re writing about would be all better if only journalists ran the world.