Haptic Hare Hoarders from Holms,

I’m close enough to a crisis such that it has occupied much of my thought for the last two days but I’m apparently too far away for it to be any of my business. I can’t have a defamation case brought against The Bellyaches so I won’t explain further, but I don’t have any evidence to phone Interpol either.

The other Interpol are my second favourite musical artists. I’m sure they’re delighted with that announcement.

In an effort to clear my mind, escape brother bombarding me his homework and loosen my decrepit joints before football, I went for a walk to Leven (pronounced lee-ven). The weather was great, very warm, the tide was in and the waves were making great noises dragging the pebbles in and out and also crashing against the promenade defences. After walking along the beach, I headed back through Silverburn Park to the town centre, some kids tried to hit me with unshelled chestnuts or something else that had fallen from the trees. I visited Sainsbury’s for chocolate and printer paper; one of the options for getting home from Sainsbury’s is squeezing through a hole in their fence and walking through the wooded area along the river which is known as “The Dam” – it has some notoriety but I’ve never encountered much bother.

As I walked along the disused railway line through The Dam, I heard music playing loudly, then I worked out it was a radio station, I thought trouble must be afoot, because loud music isn’t the usual sound of woodland – I didn’t know what kind of trouble, perhaps some yobs had stolen a car and had brought it down there to destroy it. I started to creep, making sure not to make much noise. Being 23 doesn’t ensure my safety, wearing a green jumper to aid my camouflage doesn’t either, I began planning escape strategies in my head should I encounter them (jumping the fence into the former creosote works was a viable option) as battering them over the head with a pack of printer paper wouldn’t work. Anyway, I escaped with my life. I admit I didn’t see the makers of this noise and I wasn’t really scared but the moral of the story is that it’s always important to be aware of the potential downfalls of living in Levenmouth. I am and others aren’t, maybe they don't need to be because they are the perils.

That's what scientists do.