I have loved the 2005 movie, "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" for many years.  However, it is only recently that I've started to read the book.  
Yes, I know!  This from a woman whose favourite saying is:  "The book is always better!"

All that aside, I am loving the book, as well!  The version I have is "The Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" which a dear friend passed on to me.  This version is a compilation of Douglas Adams' 5 Hitchhiker's Novels, plus an additional mini-novel.  They are:

"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" (hereafter known as "THGG")
"The Restaurant at the End of the Universe"
"Life, the Universe and Everything"
"So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish"
"Mostly Harmless"
and the mini novel:
"Young Zaphod Plays It Safe"

Today I started reading the chapter in "THGG" where Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect are subjected to Vogon poetry.   I have quoted parts of the book here, but pay attention - because the last line made me laugh (given today's internet phrases).

Firstly, so you get an idea of what Arthur & Ford were subjected to:
"Vogon poetry is of course the third worst in the Universe.  The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria.  During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning" four of his audience died of internal hemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off.  Grunthos is reported to have been "disappointed" by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his twelve-book epic entitled My Favourite Bathtime Gurgles when his own major intestine, in a desperate attempt to save life and civilization, leapt straight up through his neck and throttled his brain.

The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator, Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Greenbridge, Essex, England, in the destruction of the planet Earth."

- Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
So, Arthur and Ford were discovered hitchhiking aboard a Vogon ship, one of many which had just destroyed Planet Earth.  As a punishment they were subjected to a poetry reading by the Vogon ship's captain, Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz:
"The prisoners sat in Poetry Appreciation chairs - strapped in.  Vogons suffered no illusions as to the regard their works were generally held in.  Their early attempts at composition had been part of a bludgeoning insistence that they be accepted as a properly evolved and cultured race, but now the only thing that kept them going was sheer bloody-mindedness.

The sweat stood out cold on Ford Prefect's brow, and slid round the electrodes strapped to his temples.  These were attached to a battery of electronic equipment - imagery intensifiers, rhythmic modulators, alliterative residulators and simile dumpers - all designed to heighten the experience of the poem and make sure that not a single nuance of the poet's thought was lost.

Arthur Dent sat and quivered.  He had no idea what he was in for, but he knew that he hadn't liked anything that had happened so far and didn't think things were likely to change.

The Vogon began to read - a fetid little passage of his own devising.

"Oh freddled gruntbuggly..." he began.  Spasms wracked Ford's body - this was worse than even he'd been prepared for.

"?... thy micturations are to me/ As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee."

"Aaaaaaarggggghhhhhh!" went Ford Prefect, wrenching his head back as lumps of pain thumped through it.  He could dimly see beside him Arthur lolling and rolling in his seat.  He clenched his teeth.

"Groop I implore thee," continued the merciless Vogon, "my foonting turlingdromes."

His voice was rising to a horrible pitch of impassioned stridency. "And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles,/ Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon, see if I don't!

"Nnnnnnnnnnyyyyyyyuuuuuuurrrrrrrrggggggghhhhh!" cried Ford Prefect and threw one final spasm as the electronic enhancement of the last line caught him full blast across the temples.  He went limp.

Arthur lolled."

- Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Do you see what the wonderful Mr Adams did there?  "Arthur lolled".

I know that it was not intended as internet speak for Arthur bursting into laughter.  However, seeing that, after Ford's reaction to what seems like gibberish (though fairly awful) poetry, just made me LOL!  Bonus points for noticing Arthur lolling, earlier on in that segment, too!

So, in response to unintentional internet puns, I award thee, Sir Douglas Adams, 100 internets!

I wonder how much more of that darn Vogon poetry I can take, though.

xox
Evie
 


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