My childhood was a series of John Hughes movies mixed with an overlaid DIO, Def Leppard, Van Halen, and Iron Maiden soundtrack, with Rodney Matthews and Roger Dean posters on the walls and ZX Spectrum cassettes mixed in with Commodore Amiga floppies. There’s cans of diet pop on top of worn copies of Heavy Metal magazines and faded Nemesis the Warlock graphic novels. William Gibson and Neal Stephenson look down from the bookshelves with Rudy Rucker, Piers Anthony, and Harry Harrison for company. Evil Dead II and The Terminator rest by the VCR while my Raleigh Grifter needs a new back tyre. Kenner Star Wars and Palitoy Action Man are under the bed along with a mixed box of electronics. A puppy eyes me from the foot of my bed while a goldfish swims aimlessly in a nearby tank. I stare out the window wondering what the future holds while an engineer installs a satellite dish on the wall outside my room.