"I miss Marvin!" I feel I should say, even as I realise midway through completing this sentence, that "I miss Marvin!" is not a good enough reason to start any blogpost.
I strongly urge those of you who haven't yet been exposed to the wonderfully bizarre universe where Arthur Dent absconds on a series of wild goose chases with the curiously named Ford Prefect, to...expose yourself immediately *idiotic chuckle*. On a less flippant note, The Hitchhiker's Guide remains very dear to the hearts of those who've been charmed by the fripperies of Ford Prefect ( the alien hitchhiker who embarks upon a fervent mission to travel to the far reaches of the galaxy filling in entries on his famous 'Guide'), Zaphod ( the innocuous two-headed President of the Galaxy), Marvin ( the super-intelligent paranoid android whose sense of utter misery at being delegated the task of opening doors strikes a chord so strong you'd just want to pet him and feed him butter-cookies) and the redoubtable Arthur Dent himself (who cannot be described without being surfeited on copious volumes of Guinness). For those who swear that flying is an art where you fling yourself at the ground and miss, and for those who zealously vow that six multiplied by nine is a resounding 42, Marvin is an empty hole in the heart that can never be filled.
Marvin is your typical co-worker fraught with depression and marital problems and mounting bills and three mortgages and a touch of cancer, from which he cannot escape. Marvin is also the lottery-winner who finds his numbers match the lucky draw but is disconsolate about the arduous 2 mile walk he must make to claim his winnings. Marvin is the baker who finds his hot pies selling like hot cakes but could never really reconcile himself to not being a rocket-scientist. In short, what Marvin is and what Marvin isn't is beyond comprehension for a mind as humble as mine; having an emotional spectrum that ranges from grouchy to mildly irked as a response to everything from broccoli to the world's end, however, is something I can relate with. Marvin may just be a "Genuine People Personality" experiment gone wrong, but he will, for all his listless bellyaching, remain the most complete caricature of an adorably grumpy human being.
Since Hitchhikers' met an unfortunate death after the fifth installment of its trilogy (something that the writer himself found happily odd), and there's no Marvin left in the universe anymore, I sometimes feel disconsolate that my own search for a kindred spirit might never bear any fruit. I'll console myself however, in the course of the drudgery of life, with the knowledge that he was there...with a brain the size of a planet...opening doors.
I strongly urge those of you who haven't yet been exposed to the wonderfully bizarre universe where Arthur Dent absconds on a series of wild goose chases with the curiously named Ford Prefect, to...expose yourself immediately *idiotic chuckle*. On a less flippant note, The Hitchhiker's Guide remains very dear to the hearts of those who've been charmed by the fripperies of Ford Prefect ( the alien hitchhiker who embarks upon a fervent mission to travel to the far reaches of the galaxy filling in entries on his famous 'Guide'), Zaphod ( the innocuous two-headed President of the Galaxy), Marvin ( the super-intelligent paranoid android whose sense of utter misery at being delegated the task of opening doors strikes a chord so strong you'd just want to pet him and feed him butter-cookies) and the redoubtable Arthur Dent himself (who cannot be described without being surfeited on copious volumes of Guinness). For those who swear that flying is an art where you fling yourself at the ground and miss, and for those who zealously vow that six multiplied by nine is a resounding 42, Marvin is an empty hole in the heart that can never be filled.
Marvin is your typical co-worker fraught with depression and marital problems and mounting bills and three mortgages and a touch of cancer, from which he cannot escape. Marvin is also the lottery-winner who finds his numbers match the lucky draw but is disconsolate about the arduous 2 mile walk he must make to claim his winnings. Marvin is the baker who finds his hot pies selling like hot cakes but could never really reconcile himself to not being a rocket-scientist. In short, what Marvin is and what Marvin isn't is beyond comprehension for a mind as humble as mine; having an emotional spectrum that ranges from grouchy to mildly irked as a response to everything from broccoli to the world's end, however, is something I can relate with. Marvin may just be a "Genuine People Personality" experiment gone wrong, but he will, for all his listless bellyaching, remain the most complete caricature of an adorably grumpy human being.
Since Hitchhikers' met an unfortunate death after the fifth installment of its trilogy (something that the writer himself found happily odd), and there's no Marvin left in the universe anymore, I sometimes feel disconsolate that my own search for a kindred spirit might never bear any fruit. I'll console myself however, in the course of the drudgery of life, with the knowledge that he was there...with a brain the size of a planet...opening doors.
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