Thursday, 9 April 2009
42nd post is it then, this can mean but one thing! or. you guessed it
blog number 42. can you really blame me for giving you some hitchhikers guide to the galaxy?! i mean come on there's just really no excuse NOT to throw some hitchhikers into the mix. i'd haveto be a madman not to! not that i've ever needed an excuse before like. anyways its a good bit at the restaurant at the end of the universe, not an obvious bit either. your welcome
arthur turned to ford - he hadn't quite got this place worked out in his mind.
'look, surely' he said, 'if the universe is about to end . . . don't we go with it?' ford gave him a three-pan-galactic-gargle-blaster look, in other words a rather unsteady one.
'no,' he said, 'look,' he said, 'as soon as you come into this dive you get held in this sort of amazing force-shielded temporal warp thing. i think.'
'oh,' said arthur. he turned his attention back to a bowl of soup he'd managed to get from the waiter to replace his steak.
'look,' said ford, 'i'll show you.'
he grabbed at a napkin off the table and fumbled hoplessly with it.
'look,' he said again, 'imagine this napkin, right, as the temporal universe, right? and this spoon as a transductional mode in the matter curve. . .'
it took him a while to say this last part, and arthur hated to interrupt him.
'thats the spoon i was eating with,' he said.
'all right,' said ford, 'imagine this spoon. . .' but found it rather tricky to pick up, 'no, better still this fork. . .'
'hey would you let go of my fork?' snapped zaphod.
'all right,' said ford, 'all right, all right. why don't we say. . . why don't we say that this wine glass is the temporal universe. . .'
'what, the one you've just knocked on the floor?'
'did i do that?'
'all right.' said ford, ' forget that. i mean. . . i mean, look, do you know - do you know how the universe actually began for a kick-off?'
'probably not,' said arthur, who wished he'd never embarked on any of this.
'all right,' said ford, 'imagine this. right. you get this bath. right. a large round bath. and its made of ebony.'
'where from?' said arthur. 'harrods was destroyed by the vogons.'
'so you keep saying.'
'you get this bath, see? imagine you've got this bath. and it's ebony. and it's conical.'
'conical?' said arhtur. 'what sort of. . .'
'shhh!' said ford. 'it's conical. so what you do is, you see, you fill it with fine white sand, all right? or sugar. fine white sand, and/or sugar. anything. doesn't matter. sugar's fine. and when it's full, you pull the plug out. . . are you listening?'
'you pull the plug out, and it all just twirls away, twirls away you see, out of the plughole.'
'you don't see. you don't see at all. i haven't got to the clever bit yet. you want to hear the clever bit?'
'tell me the clever bit.'
'i'll tell you the clever bit.'
ford thought for a moment, trying to remember what the clever bit was.
'the clever bit,' he said, 'is this. you film it happening.'
'clever,' arthur agreed.
'you get a movie camera, and you film it happening.'
'that's not the clever bit. this is the clever bit, i remember now that this is the clever bit. the clever bit is that you then thread the film in the projector. . . backwards!'
'yes. threading it backwards is deffinately the clever bit. so then, you just sit and watch it, and everything just appears to spiral upwards out of the plughole and fill the bath. see?'
'and that's how the universe began is it?' said arhtur.
'no,' said ford, 'but it's a marvellous way to relax,'
he reached for his wine glass.
'where's my wine glass?' he said.
'it's on the floor.'
tipping back his chair to look for it, ford collided with the small green waiter who was approaching the table carrying a portable telephone.
ford excused himself to the waiter explaining that he was extremely drunk.
the waiter said that that was quite all right and that he perfectly understood.
ford thanked the waiter for his kind indulgence, attempted to tug his forelock, missed by six inches and slid under the table.
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