A common mistake people make when designing something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools DOUGLAS ADAMS
Showing posts with label Douglas Adams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Douglas Adams. Show all posts
Friday, October 26, 2012
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Hairy Brother and Cat Stevens
Wed 23 June 10:16pm
Another strange coincidence - after blogging about Douglas Adams and the other 49-year-old genius I could see happily piffling away with him wittily for all eternity, husband turned on the TV at random and it is a retrospective on Cat Stevens - his "Morning has Broken" played at my brother's funeral, on a big screen, making quite an impression as he was a dead lookalike of my brother at that phase in his life - hairy and bearded - and it was, to my surprise, one of his favourite songs. And I have discovered that a few of my favourite songs were, unbeknownst to me, by Cat Stevens - like "Father and Son." - Teufel
Labels:
Bearded Genius,
Cat Steven,
Douglas Adams,
Morning Has Broken
We apologise for the inconvenience ...
As we enter the Quintessential Phase of Douglas Adams's Hitch-hiker trilogy, my mind is constantly doing flips of recognition and adulation. That man was one who saw so much, saw through so much, understood so much, and to top it all off, could express it with wit and a kind of mathematical beauty. My maths didn't go beyond topping the last year of High School, but I sense that he actually understands the higher maths and science whose names he flings so blithely about. No wonder Stephen Fry speaks of him with love and awe in his voice - he's another of the same ilk. And he died at 49 - perhaps he didn't need to live any more. My brother was another hyper-rational genius with a sense of humour and a gift for writing - and he also died at the age of 49. I like to think he and Douglas Adams have now met - despite them both being confirmed atheists - and I am determined to keep his paperback copies of the Hitch-hiker trilogy and beyond, despite their foul, tobacco-soaked smell. They are currently airing on a box outside my front door, but they will stink forever.
Labels:
Douglas Adams,
Hitch-hiker trilogy,
ilk,
Quintessential,
scooter,
Stephen Fry,
tobacco,
Towel Day
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