my take: Douglas Adams

There are those who would argue that Douglas Adam’s Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is the greatest work of fiction to have ever graced the good hands of humans.  And then there are hooloovoo (for those who don’t know, “a hooloovoo is a superintelligent shade of blue”; there are also those who waste their money on the Encyclopedia Galactica.  If you’re in the latter category or just a poor earthling that has never heard of the Hitchhiker’s Guide then you are in the minority – and unfortunately, you may be looked down upon by those who are fluent in the ways to make a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.  If you’re confused at this point, don’t fret.  Also, don’t panic; there may be hope for you yet.  While it is proven (and I wholeheartedly agree) that beings that do have a copy of the guide are in better shape and health than those who do not, you may be alright.  Probably not, but maybe.

 

First and foremost, those who hitchhike the galaxy and do not own a copy of the magnificent guide may not know the bare basics of traveling the galaxy.  Would you have ever thought that a towel is the most important item to carry while traveling?  If not, then you are in need of one of two things: one being a fleet of vogon construction ships to come and destroy the earth or the other being that you find a copy of the glorious guide.  Unfortunately, most earthlings do not understand that a towel shows that you have the knowledge of traveling the entire galaxy – if you have a towel, other beings may pick you up based solely on the fact that you are intelligent enough to keep something on you that serves multiple purposes (a towel can dry you off, it can be used as a pillow, as a small blanket to keep you warm, etcetera).  Are you worried yet?  If so, I told you not to panic.  There is hope at the end of the wormhole.

 

How would you react if you were placed on a strange planet around creatures made of quartz?  Would you know how to act; what would offend them? Would you know how to win their favor and keep them from smashing you into itty, bitty bits of carbon and blood?  Without the guide, you would probably not.  In the worst case scenario, you would learn a few alien swear words and the best places to get drinks on their world if you had a copy of the Hitchhiker’s Guide.  Perhaps you would just like to abstain from this all?  If so, I advise you not to stick your thumb out or another sentinent being may think you’re looking for a ride.  If you had a copy of the guide you’d know this too.  See?*  You need the guide to keep yourself alive; you need it to keep you on your mostly harmless planet.

 

The guide could also be used a good form of currency under strange galactic crises.  There may come a time when all of the beings in the universe go to war with each other and currency isn’t honored from one planet to another.  You would think that in times such as these that nothing could keep a galactic economy held together.  You’re wrong, of course – everyone needs a copy of the guide.  The president of the Imperial Galaxy, Zaphod Beeblebrox, could form a law that would institute the guide as the form of currency in the galaxy because it is always in demand.  Of course, if the galaxy were to ever come to this sort of crisis, many races would ignore the notion.  It’s a good point in theory, though; especially if you’re a smuggler (but don’t get any ideas).

 

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is valuable; it’s priceless (actually, all of the money that an earthling could save for his entire life would never be enough to purchase a copy of the guide, but still).  How could you live without it?  What if you were to be placed on an alien world with nothing but transparent plants and purple skies?  Better yet, would you know how to make a feast for an angry colony of mushrooms without it?  If not, you need the guide – especially if the mushrooms are upset (they can be very dangerous when around certain acids, especially a human’s stomach acid).  You’d be better off with a copy of the guide than without it.  Right?

 

This essay, minus the quotes from Douglas Adams’, is copyright 2003 James C. Traver, Jr.