The Annual Bout of Doubt

I’ve been telling people to read Douglas Adams, and only one person listened to me. This particular person is female and very pretty—trust me on this. I don’t exactly know just how much damage sci-fi has done to her, but only yesterday she proudly told me that she has the perfect defense weapon against potential rapists: geeky glasses.

I just blinked. If she weren’t so cute I’d slap her (Joaoao forgive me for my sinful thoughts, I have yet to live a fulfilling existence). I’m not a physically violent person (if you call pinching armpits non-violent), but men DO run after this particular girl, literally, and say “Miss, I’m dying to know your name” while panting after an exercise from Lawton to Kalaw. This is the kind of girl I spend afternoons lecturing on the carnivorous and carnal nature of men and the utter usefulness of learning how to sneer. If D is her answer for my test question (what do you do when a guy smiles at you? A. smile back and beg to be gang-banged B. sneer C. take out balisong D. wear geeky glasses), let’s find a way to fit it to her chest and I’ll shut up.

Sorry for sounding mean, but I am fiercely protective of her—as are most people around her. And don’t make the mistake of assuming she’s dumb because she looks great; I may kill you for it. She reads Douglas Adams. You don’t. *sticks tongue out*

So back to Douglas Adams. I have here an interesting excerpt from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and this is the context for it: the Babel fish is something you put in your ear which feeds on brainwaves and thus enables you to understand any language in the universe. Don’t ask me how it works, it’s so complex. Here.

Now it is such a bizaarely improbable coincidence that anything so mind-bogglingly useful [the Babel fish] could have evolved purely by chance that some thinkers have chosen to see it as the final and clinching proof of the nonexistence of God.

The argument goes something like this: ‘I refuse to prove that I exist,’ says God, ‘for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.’

‘But,’ says Man, ‘the Babel fish is a dead giveaway isn’t it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves you exist, and so, by your own arguments, you don’t. QED.’

‘Oh dear,’ says God, ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic.

‘Oh, that was easy,’ says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next pedestrian crossing.

I posted the excerpt because I’ve been ruminating about my religion or nonexistence of it lately. But let’s talk about that another far away day. I’ve got to find some pepper spray.


PS—If any of you has Mostly Harmless, the fifth and last book missing in my Hitchhiker collection and wants the ultimate ego boost of having someone go down on her knees to beg for at least a chance to read it, feel free to contact me.