[b]Douglas Adams
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-two million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea.[/b]
How to put this in perspective, he wondered.
We can’t win against obsession. They care, we don’t. They win.
About practically anything, he suspected.
There’s always a moment when you start to fall out of love, whether it’s with a person or an idea or a cause, even if it’s one you only narrate to yourself years after the event: a tiny thing, a wrong word, a false note, which means that things can never be quite the same again.
Alas, this is an all too real thing.
All you really need to know for the moment is that the universe is a lot more complicated than you might think, even if you start from a position of thinking it’s pretty damn complicated in the first place.
Yet look how many folks here alone claim to know everything about it. And, no, not just the Kids.
But the plans were on display…
On display? I eventually had to go down to the cellar to find them.
That’s the display department.
With a flashlight.
Ah, well, the lights had probably gone.
So had the stairs.
But look, you found the notice, didn’t you?
Yes, said Arthur, yes I did. It was on display in the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the door saying ‘Beware of the Leopard’.
You want this to be a true story, don’t you?
Did I do anything wrong today, he said, or has the world always been like this and I’ve been too wrapped up in myself to notice?
Anyone here know for sure?