One of the most important lessons I’ve learnt over the years in data protection is a simple caution: DON’T PANIC.
It’s ironic to be writing this blog post in the midst of growing panic over COVID-19. I must admit I’m feeling a certain level of creeping existential horror, myself. Born in the 70s, I grew up during the cold war and while I don’t pretend to know what the cold war was like to people who were alive during say, the Cuban Missile Crisis, so many childhood memories for me seem to involve sudden bouts of terror: what would I do if I wasn’t at home and The Apocalypse happened?
But this isn’t a post about COVID-19, the fear of nuclear armageddon or Stephen King’s The Stand.
This is about a wholly remarkable book – no, not the most remarkable book to ever come out of the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor, but the stories told about that book.
On March 8, 1978, BBC Radio 4 first aired The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, the radio serial that inspired the 5-book trilogy, the text-based adventure game, the TV show, the movie, and of course, small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri. The great genius, Douglas Adams, gave the world such a fantastically crafted story that looking back, it seems remarkably improbable that anyone could have thought it would do anything but become a cult hit.
That date means that Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is about to turn 42. If you’ve not read this remarkable book (if perhaps, you’re a sentient mattress called Zem from Squornshellous Zeta – doesn’t matter which one, they’re all called Zem), you may not be fully aware of the significance of the number to fans – for 42, of course, is the answer to the penultimate question – the meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything. (The problem, of course, was that no-one knew what the question meant. And so here we are on Earth, with the mice in charge.)
Growing up, I remember watching the early TV series, and on one of my infrequent trips to Sydney from The Country, discovering with sheer joy The Book. In fact, by the time I found the book, the third in the trilogy had just been published (Life, The Universe, and Everything), so this would have put my literary acquisition at around 1982 when I was only 9 years old.
The original three books I bought were read so many times they’ve long since fallen apart. I replaced them (and the later acquired So Long and Thanks for All the Fish) with an omnibus of the 5-set trilogy, which lasted long enough for me to subsequently re-buy the books in iBooks.
When I worked for a systems integrator in Sydney (2000-2006), there was a “hiring compatibility” test established by the technical director, which I mostly stuck to when I became the hiring manager: at some point during the interview, quote a random bit of Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy. If you get a response, the candidate would likely be compatible. I’ve heard over the years that this was not a unique hiring strategy.
The entire Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy collection is beautifully irreverent and sparsely written. From Douglas Adams, I learnt that it was possible to write funny, silly stories with breathtaking brevity. That’s not something I’ll ever do, but Douglas Adams will forever remain a hero in my literary world.
It wasn’t just the silly names, like the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster (which we’re told, is like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick), or the Kill-o-Zap guns (of which there is apparently very definitely a wrong end to be on and you don’t hang it over a fireplace). Quotes such as “In the beginning, the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and has widely been regarded as a bad move”, and phrases like, “The ships hung in the sky the same way bricks didn’t”. And it’s still impossible for me to sit in a restaurant without thinking of bistromathematics.
While the first 3 books in the trilogy are undoubtedly my favourite, I love all 5 (almost as much as I love getting to mention a 5-book trilogy), and I swear to this day I spot new things – or remember things for the first new time – every time I read them. That’s the joy for me in going back to them every single time. That and the idea that we may be all descended from telephone sanitizers, which when you think about it, wouldn’t be all too bad a thing in the time of COVID-19.
Douglas Adams passed away in May 2001, and the world was diminished by his passing. He never got to see his excellent work turn 42, but he took us on a fantastic journey, where we’ve spent 42 years exclaiming in joy at random appearances of that number, and of saying seriously to one another: DON’T PANIC.
If you’ve never read these books, my earnest recommendation is don’t even waste time reading the final paragraph in this blog article and get cracking. You won’t regret it.
To celebrate, I figure I’ll go to the pub in a dressing gown, plan to drink six pints before leaving with some salted nuts, then spend the afternoon listening to Vogon Poetry. I’d best not forget my towel.