Douglas Adams-- like a Breath of Fresh Vacuum

There's something about Douglas Adams that struck a chord (a Gm chord, pre-bailout) within me from the very first words I read in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Rereading Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency now, I find I still resonate like a detuned guitar through an amp with the knobs on 11.

Why?

I can think of a couple of reasons.

First, he writes in a style I've always used. Not that I use it as well as him, much less to the tune of millions of dollars, but the same, general style-- especially the absurd metaphors. I caught a lot of flack in school for that, and from friends when we'd all try writing. I didn't care. Writing, to me, was like a bagel. Except that I always enjoy writing, but most bagels are merely so so.

``Later," insisted her father.
"This is already later. I've been timing it."
...
"Except the ferry never came when it said it would. Never, ever. I timed it."

Brilliant.

Next, it's pure escapism. It's completely surreal, has nothing to do with anything, and I seriously doubt Adams wanted us to find any deeper meaning in the books. Although some people do. Those people probably trust politicians, too.

How surreal is it? Well, at times it makes Alice in Wonderland look like a travelogue.

Then again, it's so surreal that it often reminds me of working with teenagers. So it's no wonder I love it. I'd as soon race an electric monk for the shotgun, a race I'd be sure to lose, probably to my physical integrity's detriment, as not have teenagers around.

So long, Doug, and thanks for all the fish. Especially that one beta. I think the cats still have nightmares.