Long ago in the Court of Heaven the Jade Emperor decreed that in every bookstore there must be a chubby brown-haired chick with glasses in the corner, muttering to herself over a yellowed paperback about some impossibly dull subject. She's usually clad in a paint-covered ratty tshirt, dog hairs on her jeans and a scraped place on one elbow. I uphold this ancient tradition here in the Nexus of Suburbia.