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Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 1 - First Meeting
One day, not long after tomorrow, Arnold Lint was busy scrolling through
the seemingly infinite reaches of the Net. All of a sudden the news stopped
with an abrupt thud, followed by the angry message "YOUR NODE HAS BEEN
REDUCED TO A LITTLE BLACK, GREASY SPLOTCH IN MY MEMORY SPACE!!". No sooner
had he assimilated this horrendous event when a great suction like noise
began to emanate from his terminal. "This is it", he said to himself, "I'm
going to die". The screen on his terminal imploded and he suddenly found
himself sucked into the terminal...
(Arnold Lint regains consciousness, only to find himself in the company of
an odd trio. One of the trio is an apparently normal human male (named Rod
Perfect) and the second is a voluptuous young woman (named Gillian). The
third is also a normal male (named Xaphod Gronklebox), except for a third,
mechanical, arm and a 12" CRT on his shoulder that keeps scrolling "Pieces
of Eight, Pieces of Eight".)
Rod: Evening all! I'm Rod Perfect, awfully rude of you imploding on
us this way, you silly twit.
Arnold Lint: Sorry. Am I dead?
Xaphod: Obviously not, you semi-evolved simian! Are all you net-landers so
stupid. If you were dead would I be talking to you? I'm Xaphod
Gronklebox, the famous inter-net-al criminal and dog molester - you
must have heard of me.
Arnold Lint: Actually, no, I haven't.
Xaphod: Oh well, your loss. I just hijacked this node! It's called the
Infinity, isn't it wild. Just imagine the places we can go in this
baby.
(Rod notices that Arnold's eyes are transfixed on the young woman)
Rod: Her name's Gillian, at least that's what she wants to be called.
Actually, her real name is Gertrude Floogie, but she didn't like
it, so she changed it.
(Arnold Lint detects a mechanical sound to his right. A robot soon walks
into view)
Robot: My name is Martin. I am sure you will have an absolutely awful time
on this node, I always have. I do not know why they insist on
trying to do things to change the Net, they can only make it worse.
No matter what happens, some one always says something stupid and
ruins everything. Then someone else feels obliged to a rebuttal, and
on and on it goes. How awful. Still, what do you expect from an
imperfect Net.
Rod: Martin is a bit, well, depressing.
Xaphod: He's a real downer, man!
Martin: That's right, ridicule me. See what I care. I'm only an android.
Just another example of cruelty in this awful Net.
[The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" defines cruelty as having to see
constant repetitions of the same salutary comment in more than 20 messages.
History shows that a war was fought over the repetition of the statement
"If you don't like my name - push off, signed xxxx" appearing in 200
messages from the node of Moronicus. Since that time, any time a salutary
message is used more than 20 times, subsequent violators have their pelvis
screwed to a cake stand while they are forced to watch repeats of "The Gong
Show".]
Arnold Lint: Well, what do we do now?
Xaphod: We're on our way to Netrothea. (The 12" CRT on his shoulder now
starts repeating "Polly want a sedative, Polly want a sedative")
There's supposed to be all sorts of wild and amazingly great things
in that place!
Rod: Martin, set course for Netrothea!
Martin: All right, but you're not going to like it.
Gillian: What will we find on Netrothea?
Xaphod: Well, there's supposed to be a huge stock pile of data there that
we can sell to the Net for millions.
Arnold Lint: A stock pile of what?
Xaphod: Data! Data! You idiot. Knowledge is power in the Net. All that data
has been accumulating over the centuries. Just imagine the
amazingly amazing philosophical Net-discussions that it stored. I
mean, the Net is the focal point of all wisdom. Just think of all
that smart stuff! Wow!
[The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" insists that the focal point of all
knowledge in not the Net itself. Rather, it is the fourth stall in the mens
room in Grand Central Station. No one has ever been dumb enough to waste
time disproving this wild claim, so the publishers avoided some nasty laws
suits.]
Xaphod: We'll have millions! We'll by everything! No, we'll have
billions, trillions, . . . .
(Xaphod begins to shake violently and froth at the mouth, then he falls
over backward. A few seconds later he comes to.)
Xaphod: Well, lets go!
Rod: You all right?
Xaphod: Yah, sure. Just the excitement of new conquests.
Arnold Lint: Looked more like Flamers-syndrome to me.
Xaphod: You should talk, you key-pounding half-wit.
Gillian: If we're going to go, lets go already.
Martin: Do we really have to?
Rod: YES!
(Just as the node starts on it's way, a host of flame-shaped vessels became
visible on the scanners)
Rod: Funny you should mention Flamers-syndrome.
Xaphod: Oh, hell!
Gillian: What are they?
Xaphod: Damn, those are ships belonging the Flamers. They go after
anything, no matter how pointless or unimportant it is. If they
catch us, we could suffer permanent brain damage, or worse yet -
join the Moral Majority
Arnold Lint: So this it it, we're all going to die!
Martin: I told you that you would like it.
Others: Oh Shut Up!
End Of Part 1
Will Arnold and his new travelling companions escape the Flamers? Or will
they end up playing rock albums backwards at 66.6 RPM? For the answers to
these, and countless other pointless questions, tune in next time ... same
Net-time ... same Net-channel
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 2 - The Flamers
(The Infinity's scanners are showing the Flamer's ships approaching fast.
Arnold Lint and Rod Perfect are frantically scurrying about. Xaphod is
trying to figure out how to fly the node, and Gillian is fixing her makeup.
Martin the android is off on a corner moping about how he's too young to
die.)
Xaphod: This is the node Infinity, we are on a peaceful, although a
bit mercenary, mission. Hold your fire.
(The commander of the Flamer's fleet appears on the screen. He appears to
be a normal human, except for a small silver halo stapled to his head.)
Flamer: I am Adolf Riteyus, commander of the Flaming Queen. You have
violated Flaming space and must be blasted. You will be given a
fair and drawn out hearing before you are found guilty.
Rod: We didn't know this was Flaming space!
Adolf: Ignorance is no excuse. Do you think that just because you don't
know something you shouldn't be responsible for it? Why, if we
didn't go around blasting people who thought they were innocent,
there'd be no order. The whole power structure of the Net is based
on the inalienable right to flame. He who flames the loudest and
strongest will prevail, for he will have maintained purity of
essence by not compromising his principles. It doesn't matter what
one flames about, as long as one comes out a winner. Winning the
argument for mandatory retroactive birth control is one of our
greatest victories. We Flamers always win because we never give
up. No, things are either our way or they're WRONG.
[The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" lists the Flamers as one of the most
argumentative races in the Net. History shows that the Flamers went to war
over the right to keep and bear tongue depressors. They also had a violent
and bloody discussion over the morality of Odor Eaters. The only time the
Flamers can be easily beaten in combat is on Sunday mornings when they all
watch evangelist shows, or during Ronco "Mr. Microphone" commercials (their
symbol of worship).]
Gillian:What should we do?
Xaphod: How 'bout evasive actions?
Marvin: It won't help.
Rod: Oh shut up!
Rod: OK, evasive action!
Adolf: Where do you come from?
Xaphod: Not from around here.
Adolf: Where are you headed?
Rod: Left.
Gillian:That's telling him?
Adolf: What is your favorite color?
Arnold Lint: My what?
Adolf: Your favorite color!
Rod: White!
Adolf: What is the maximum warp speed of a ladened Swaldrel?
Xaphod: Denebian or Rigelian?
Adolf: I don't know that... all right, enough evading, if you don't
surrender in the next five seconds I'll blast you right out of
existence.
Rod: Well, now what.
Adolf: Five!
Arnold Lint: What's this button do?
Adolf: Four!
Xaphod: That's the Illogical Drive. It propels the node on power from
hard drugs and acid rock. It's kind of dangerous though.
Adolf: Three!
Arnold Lint: Should we try it?
Adolf: Two!
Rod: Well, let's not . . . Four!
Adolf: Four!
Arnold Lint: So this is it, we're all going to die.
Adolf: Three!
Martin: I warned you about this trip.
Adolf: Two!
Xaphod: All right, all right, engage the Illogical Drive!
Adolf: One!
(Arnold Lint engages the Illogical drive. Images of the movie "Easy Rider"
float across the view port. "In-a-gadda-da-vida" starts coming across the
radio. The 12" CRT on Xaphod's shoulder starts scrolling "Wow man, what a
trip!". The scanners show that the Flamers couldn't handle the sudden flood
of sensory excitation and burst their brains. This only made their
reactions a bit slower though as the Flamer's brain is remarkably small.
The Infinity, charged up with Liquid Super Duetrillium, was able to make
warp speed and turn the corner before the Highway patrol picked them up on
radar. This was fortunate for it meant that they wouldn't be caught by
Spiny Norman, the 45 foot blue hedgehog that had been following them.)
Gillian: We made it.
Rod: Yah, where are we Martin.
Martin: We're way out man.
Xaphod: Oh, he's useless now - it'll take a while before he comes down.
Arnold Lint: At least he isn't so gloomy.
Martin: Nooo body knows, the trouble I've see . . . have any of you ever
contemplated the death of a grain of salt?
[The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" points out that the life and death of
a grain of salt can have amazing importance in the course of life on the
Net. One particular grain of salt (named Nigel) was responsible for the
overthrow of an entire government. Nigel gave his
. <- Nigel
life by falling into the barrel of a shotgun that was aimed at the planet's
dictator. Thanks to lousy marksmanship on the part of the rebels, only
Nigel was able to hit the dictator. The rest of the buck shot killed the
dictator's pet salmon, Eric. Nigel, however, penetrated the dictators eye
and eventually killed him 8 months later just before a firing squad cut the
dictator in two.]
Rod: Shut Up!
Xaphod: Well, lets get back on course.
Arnold Lint: What are those?
(The scanners now show a dozen ships shaped like the number one heading
toward the Infinity.)
Xaphod: Those are Singularan ships. They're worse than flamers!
Rod: Oh yeah, they're worse than a visit from an insurance salesman.
Gillian:They're normally mild mannered computer scientists. But when they
get on the Net, they become endowed with a superhuman ability to
talk about incredibly personal things, things they couldn't
otherwise discuss.
Arnold Lint: Sounds awful.
Martin: That's what I keep telling you.
Rod: Shut up!
Xaphod: If we don't get out of here fast, we'll end up debating which
finger a divorced person should wear his or her ring on when going
to homosexual orgies - or worse, have to go to a Pot Luck Dinner
where all that the people do is talk.
End Of Part 2
Will the crew of the infinity avoid the clutches of the Singularans? Or
will they end up exchanging recipes for onion dip. For the answers to these
and several other amazingly unimportant questions ... tune in next time ...
same Net-time ... same Net-channel.
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 3 - The Singularans
(Arnold Lint and the crew of the Infinity are trying to decide what to do
now that they are being faced by the deadly Singularans.)
Xaphod: Oh wow, just when we got past the Flamers, we have to run
into the 'Singles'. The Illogical drive won't work this time.
Rod: No, and neither will evasive actions. They all talk that way!
Gillian: What will we do then?
Arnold Lint: I'll tell you ... we're all going to die.
Xaphod: Shut your cake-hole!
Martin: I tried to tell you this trip would be a real downer, but
would you listen?
Rod: Quiet!
Xaphod: I guess we should see what they want.
(Xaphod switches on the two way video telecommunicator and RadaRange. The
face of the Singularan captain appears on the screen. He is a normal human
wearing a T-shirt which says: "Have you ever really listened to Manilow?"
He is also sporting glow in the dark pants and 10 pounds of silver and gold
chains around his neck.)
Singularan: Hey, like I'm Dirk Thawtphull. We were cruising by and saw your
node. Interested in some meaningful relationships, free from
the moral depravity that otherwise infects the net.
Xaphod: Well, I kind of like depravity.
Rod: Yah, me too.
Dirk: Wow, you'd love our S & M encounter group then, fershure!
Arnold Lint: Your what?
Dirk: S & M encounter group. We get together twice a week and exchange
recipes and beatings.
Arnold Lint: How could a group like that command such a strong node?
Xaphod: Well, the sudden popularity of Jogging induced widespread adoption
of the principles of Single-ism. The subsequent rise of the sport
of 'Joggering' reduced the numbers of Singularans to normal size.
It appears that they may be making a come back though.
[The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" defines 'Joggering' as a sport
originated in Australia to combat the sudden drop in productivity caused by
having everybody jogging. Australian champion Bruce Karnage describes the
sport: "Well, there is a different way of catching both male and female
joggers. If it's a male, you flush him out into the open with cigarette
smoke, then chase him down in your 4 x 4 Land Rover. When he's tired, bump
him with the fender to stun him momentarily. Then get out and with your
driver pick him up by all fours and run him head-first into the side of the
truck. If it's a female, bait a likely spot with designer jogging wear and
then wait for a flock to arrive. When one becomes interested, sneak up
behind her, very quietly. Then when you are about two feet away, and you
can see the sun dancing on her richly tanned flesh caressing her well toned
figure into a visual symphony of delight, split her skull with a handy
two-by-four. It's a lovely sport!" The sport later became known as
'Walkmaning'.]
Rod: We were on our way to Netrothea to pick up some ... uh ...
fuel, yah that's it.
Dirk: Well, we've got plenty of fuel, come on over and we'll let you have
it.
Xaphod: No, it's OK.
Dirk: I insist!
(The Singularan ship lets out a pink and purple polka-dot ray that engulfs
the Infinity. Arnold Lint and company find themselves in a room on the
Singularan ship. It is decorated right out off the floor of a K-Mart.
K-Tel's "Feelings" album is playing "You light up my existence" in the
background, on the ceiling is a gigantic mirror, and in one corner is a
gigantic mood-bean-bag chair.)
Gillian: How awful!
Martin: Actually, I kind of like it, in a depressing sort of way.
Rod: Quiet.
Arnold Lint: Where are we.
Dirk: You're aboard the Singularan vessel "Sincerity". You will remain here
until you learn to develop meaningful relationships over the Net.
Meaningful relationships based on honesty, truth, and having nothing
to do with physical appearance. Relationships which will grow as you
and your partner, or partners, share, or don't share, things you
have, or don't have, in common. You will learn how to have every
other sentence include the words 'special' or 'meaningful
relationship'.
Xaphod: If he says "meaningful relationship" once more I'll have to
pray to the porcelain buddha.
Rod: Sickening, isn't it.
Dirk: Right, enough of this. Wait here and we'll start programming
you for meaningful relationships.
(Xaphod bends over a nearby table and vomits, the 12" CRT on his shoulder
starts scrolling "Uuuggghhh")
Gillian: What did you mean about "programming" us?
Dirk: We'll have to make you compatible with the environment and take away
all your inhibitions when discussing your personal life on the Net.
You'll be subjected to countless sessions watching repeats of "The
Dating Game", "The Newlywed Game", and "Celebrity Wife Swapping". And
that's only Stage 1!
[The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" points out that the three old Earth TV
shows just mentioned were actually the basis for a huge inter-conglomerate
stock monopolizing scheme started by The Phone Company. The questions asked
on these shows were actually coded messages issued by The Phone Company to
the conglomerates it was working with. These messages told the associated
conglomerates about which stocks to buy based on information gained by The
Phone Company by listening in on the phones of important companies. The
client corporations paid The Phone Company 1 million dollars for each such
message. The seemingly idiotic contestants were, more often than not,
government agents trying to break The Phone Company's code. Chuck Barris,
the originator of the shows, was later found to be a financial genius,
rivaled only by Howard Hughes.]
Rod: We gotta get put of here!
Xaphod: Yah.
Rod: You know what really gets Singularans put off? Rudeness and
crudeness!
Arnold Lint: What?
Rod: Rudeness, if we act real crude and rude, they'll beg us to leave!
Xaphod: Great, let's try it!
(Dirk returns with three gorgeous women and one well built female model
android.)
Rod: (To the first girl) Wow, look at that pair!
Xaphod: (To the second girl) That's a lovely grab!
Rod: (To the third girl) OK love, drop 'em!
Martin: (To the female android) I wave my private parts toward
approximate vector coordinates.
Gillian: (To Dirk) Say Dirk, if you get some Saran-Wrap and chicken wire,
I'll get the honey and the plunger.
Dirk: Get out of here you disgusting filthly maladjusted perverts!
(The three women and one android exit with great haste. The crew of the
Infinity is beamed back to their node.)
Dirk: Good riddance. Put on the flip side of "Feelings" and pass the cheese
dip. It's their loss, for only we know what true meaningful
relationships are. Only we know the feeling of wholeness that comes
from showing, or not showing, what one feels, or doesn't feel, with
someone special we care about. We aren't hung up on physical things,
we are spiritualists. At least, that's what we tell everyone else.
Xaphod: Right, now on to Netrothea, nothing can stop us now.
End Of Part 3
Will the crew of the Infinity reach Netrothea, or will Nothing stop them?
For the answers to this, and other useless questions ... tune in next time
... same Net-time ... same Net-channel.
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 4 - E.C. (The Extra Commercial)
(Arnold Lint and the crew of the Infinity are on their way to Netrothea.
They have successfully escaped both the Flamers and the Singles.)
Xaphod: How much longer till we reach Netrothea?
Martin: Too soon.
Rod: Quiet!
Gillian: I can't wait to get there!
Arnold Lint: I'm just glad we're still in one piece.
Martin: It doesn't take much to make you happy, does it?
(All of a sudden, a blinding light fills the bridge of the Infinity. When
the light fades, a small, sickeningly adorable creature is revealed. He is
wearing a cap which says "I'm cute, buy me!")
Gillian: What's that?
Xaphod: That's E.C. - the Extra Commercial!
Arnold Lint: The what?
Rod: The Extra Commercial. The most commercialized being since Santa Claus!
["The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" lists Santa Claus as a being from
Pluto who suffered severe brain damage when his space ship crashed on
Earth. Every year the silly old twit tries to fly an old sleigh and a flock
of equally stupid reindeer back to Pluto. Unfortunately, his reverse
gravity modulator is not 100 percent so he never quite gets out of Earth's
orbit. This is just as well as the jerk lost all his deep space gear. Many
people on Earth have mistaken the boxes of Kentucky Fried Chicken he
carries on his unlikely space craft (as rations for the trip to Pluto) for
presents to be distributed to children. In actuality, the only reason Fred
Glarn (his real name) ever climbs down chimneys is because he is totally
wasted on Selurian Brandy and he is merely looking for a likely spot to
sleep it off. (Why else would his nose always be red?).]
Xaphod: I've never met E.C. before, I always though he was just some
massive advertising ploy.
Gillian: (To E.C.) Hello, I'm Gillian.
E.C.: (In a heavy New York - Jewish accent) Oy vey, vhat a trip.
Say goylie, you're cute.
Xaphod: Huh?
E.C.: Don't call me E.C., it's a meshugina name. My real name is
Phil Moskowitz.
Arnold Lint: Phil Moskowitz?
Phil: Yes!, Vhat did you expect - Ricardo Montalban?
Rod: You're the Extra Commercial?
Phil: Don't laugh, my brother Saul owns Jordache Jeans!
["The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" states that the Jordache Jeans Company
was actually a very clever marketing ploy by the makers of Preparation H.
It was their intention to boost the sales of their rectal paraphernalia by
inducing Americans to stuff their gludius maximus into overly confined
garments. The ploy did not succeed.]
Gillian: What are you doing here?
Phil: I'm on my vay to the Net Christmas Special. This year it's
being hosted by Johnny Arson and Bud McMolson. Vhen you're a purely
commercial item like me, you have to travel a lot.
Xaphod: But you're Jewish, what are you doing on a Christmas special?
Phil: Believe me, it vasn't my idea. Some people out there actually think
I'm Christ reborn. I knew a kid in Brooklyn name Jesus Martinez, but
that's as close as I ever got. Anyvay, I'm hot right now in the
market, so I go on any show they can get me on.
Arnold Lint: That's unbelievable! How'd you get started in the business?
Phil: Vell, I tell ya'. One day I'm sitting there, eating a lox on rye, and
some movie man comes up to me and says: "I'm gonna make you are
star". Next thing I know I'm in some nutso movie vith a bunch of
little kids. I hate little kids. No sooner does the movie hit the
screens than there are E.C. video games, clothing, silverware,
contraceptives, books, posters, and kinky undergarments. You name it
and I was on it. Then came the TV shows and all the publicity events
- I actually cut the ribbon on the Jimmy Carter Memorial Brothel and
Pro Shop! Then I had to appear at the opening of "Nukes are Us" - a
store for budding nuclear powers.
Xaphod: Wow, that's wild.
Phil: Vell, I gotta run.
Gillian: Bye!
(The bright light once again fills the bridge, it fades and E.C. is gone.)
Arnold Lint: That was incredible!
Martin: If you say so!
Rod: Quiet!
Xaphod: Well, we're here ... Netrothea!
Martin: Oh joy and yummies.
End Of Part 4
What will Arnold Lint and the crew of the Infinity find on Netrothea? For
the answer to this spine-tingling question ... tune in next time ... same
Net-time ... same Net-channel. Also, be sure not to miss the BIG NET
CHRISTMAS SPECIAL starring Johnny Arson, Bud McMolson, Richard Nixon, Barry
Manilow, Richard Simmons, and Teddy the Wonder Lizard.
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 5 - Netrothea
(The Infinity is about to land on Netrothea. It is here that Xaphod hopes
to find a wealth of data to sell back to the Net for immense profits.)
Rod: Okay Martin, let's land.
Martin: Do we have to?
Xaphod: Yes!
Martin: Very well.
Gillian: Cheer up Martin, maybe you'll meet a nice lady android.
Wouldn't that be nice?
Martin: Not really.
Arnold Lint: How 'bout a nice male android?
Martin: That's right more abuse, aren't things bad enough already?
Besides, how can an android be homosexual? Come to think of it, we
can't be heterosexual either! How dreadful.
Rod: Quiet, we've landed.
Xaphod: How fantastic!
Gillian: How wonderful.
Martin: How awful.
All: Oh shut up!
Xaphod: Right, lets go!
(The door to the Infinity opens to reveal the landscape of Netrothea. It
is indeed a strange landscape. The ground has the consistency of a
partially frozen waterbed covered with rich Corinthian leather. Flames
spring forth from the soil in primordial splendor, displaying brilliant
patterns of red and green. Off in the distance, great orange hills reflect
the light of the purple sun. Polka-dotted polygram clouds move swiftly in
uneven patterns across the blue and grey striped sky. The hills seemed to
have been polished by the winds of time into huge reflective mounds which
make light dance on the valleys below. Great forests of trees are off to
the right. The trees are only 4 feet tall, but 20 feet wide. Stainless
steel leaves hang from their bubble gum branches as pink and black steam
spews from their exposed roots. The air stings with the scent of stale
oysters and rotting, 3 day old, MacDougals BigMuck's. There is still no
sign of civilization. The 12" CRT on Xaphod's shoulder starts up: "This is
David Halfmind. Tomorrow on 'Good Morning Idiots', we'll discuss herpes,
the death penalty, and aerobics at the office. We'll also be talking with
Yassir Arrafat about fashions for hot climates . In addition, we'll have
some wonderful holiday recipes from the Ayatollah Khomieni. Also, don't
miss our special feature, 'A trip to the Police Morgue', which we'll show
right after the weather report."]
Gillian: Ugh, how awful.
Martin: That's what I keep telling you.
Xaphod: Wow, what a great place for a vacation.
Arnold Lint: Yah, if you enjoy misery.
["The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" lists Netrothea as being in the top 10
places frequented by masochists. The wretched climate and unfriendly people
(who used to inhabit the place) made Netrothea about as much fun as a
spinal tap performed with a boat hook. Netrothea's popularity waned as
more and more places of vastly inferior quality were either discovered or
created. When these new, modern, haunts-for-the-very-sick hit the market,
old establishments (like Netrothea) were doomed. The Netrothean government
tried to boost tourist trade by offering 'Club Mud' vacations to
Netrothea's famous 'Bile Bog', but it was to no avail.]
Martin: I can't even enjoy misery, I hate this place too.
Rod: Quiet!
Xaphod: Let's go over there.
(Arnold Lint and crew make their way around the 20 foot wide trees, past
the 40 foot tall monolith, under the stop watch draped over the towel rack,
and over the 10 foot diameter pimple. They finally arrive at a door set
into the ground. A stuffed penguin stands by the door, on it's head is a
button labeled "Ring for Verbal Abuse". Etched into the door are the words:
"X = 101010 Copyrighted by Deep Thought, so bug off".)
Arnold Lint: One-Zero-One-Zero-One-Zero? What does it mean?
Xaphod: I don't know?
Gillian: Should we press the button?
Rod: Might as well.
Xaphod: (Trying to open the door) Yah, the door's locked anyway. Arnold,
why don't YOU press the button.
Arnold Lint: Thank you very much, I think not.
Martin: All right, I'll do it.
(Martin presses the button, the door flies open, and a man pops out to
great the Infinity crew. He is dressed in a business suit and sports a
"Stupidity is its own reward" button on his jacket.)
Man: Well, what do you want you smelly, squirming insignificant vermin?
Rod: We wanted to get in the door . . . who are you?
Man: Oh, I'm Flarg Brittashik, awfully nice to meet you.
Xaphod: (Confused) You're names' what?
Flarg: FLARG BRITTASHIK, what are deaf as well as stupid? What a bunch of
mindless, horrific oafs!
Arnold Lint: Look you, just let us in the door and then push off!!
Flarg: Why didn't you say so, follow me.
(Flarg descends down the stairs, the rest follow. The stairs form a spiral,
with a half-gainer twist, descending at an incredible rate to the interior
of Netrothea. The stairway is lit by the glow from halibut fished out of
the sea around the nearby nuclear power plant.)
Rod: Where are we going?
Flarg: WHERE ARE WE GOING?! What a perfectly stupid question. We're
obviously going down you sickening, malodorous pervert!
Gillian: Do you realize that you're insulting us, and then the next moment
being polite to us?
Flarg: Oh, am I? I hadn't noticed.
Rod: Well it's bloody annoying, mate.
Flarg: Well, tough rocko's if I do, you wiper of other people's behinds!
[The act of wiping other peoples behinds, according to "The Hitch Hikers
Guide to the Net", was once considered a quite honorable profession in
certain areas of the Net. In fact, many of the old regimes went so far as
to have Royal Behind Wipers (or RBW's for those readers used to TLA's -
three letter acronyms) whose sole task it was to walk around behind his or
her appointed monarch with toilet paper in hand and perform the specified
duty. Although this may seem an unpopular job, the pay was quite good. As
such, positions as Royal 'Pooper Scoopers' were often granted based on
tournaments. These tournaments resembled the Earth's olympics except for
two facets. First, all events (actually, they only lasted for one event)
were fought to the death. And second, any event thought up had to involve
the creative use of human excrement. ]
Martin: You know, I would have thought any place as awful as this might
have been amusing to me. But it's just as bad as the rest of the
Net. Good thing I'm just an android and don't have to ponder the
reasons why the Net is as it is. I can just be content knowing that
it can only get worse.
Xaphod: One more word out of you, and I'll go at your memory banks
with a chain saw!!!
End Of Part 5
What will Arnold Lint and the crew of the Infinity find in Netrothea? Will
Flarg Brittashik insult them to distraction? Or are they already
distracted? Will Xaphod end up doing a lumber jack-job on Martin's memory
banks? In the off chance of being told the answers to these, and other,
ad-libed questions ... tune in next time ... same Net-time ... same
Net-channel.
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 6
(Flarg Brittashik is leading the crew of the Infinity down the contorted
stairway toward the interior of Netrothea.)
Martin: What an awful place, why do we bother to go on?
Xaphod: Quiet!
Flarg: Actually, he's right. One of the things we Netrotheans proved was
that the Net does not actually exist. It therefore follows that
nothing we do really matters at all.
Arnold Lint: What?
Flarg: Is that all you can say you mindless, facial emation!
Rod: What do you mean "we don't exist"?
Flarg: Well, first we approached the problem assuming that we were a unique
Net. There is none other like us in the entire domain of space,
right?
Rod: Right...
Flarg: Well, if we are alone, how do we know we are? Without another Net to
tell us we are, we may not be. We could just be the figments of our
imaginations. How do you KNOW that that cat over there does in fact
have 5 legs? You see it, but what's to say that it is actually
there. Do you follow?
[What Flarg Brittashik was pointing out was the famed five-legged cat
of Felix Major. The "The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" indicates
that the myth of the five-legged cat was actually the result of the
heavy drinking done on Felix Major. You see, the female of the
species on Felix Major is covered with a blue slime which eventually
dissolves her mate if contact is maintained for too long. Because of
this, the men on Felix Major spend a lot of time in bars discussing
the differences between being Kosher and being a Cannibal. They tend
to drink an awful lot while discussing this topic. In their usually
intoxicated state, it is not difficult to mistake a cat for having a
fifth leg if viewed side ways (or as having one eye if viewed from
the rear). The "The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" also points out
that the favorite drink on Felix Major is called the 'Intesto-rout'.
It is mixed as follows: Mix equal parts of gin, whiskey, rye, vodka,
rum, bourbon, and brandy. Add a cup of beer that has been left in a
gym locker for 3 days. To this add 5 Ex-Lax pills, 1 Valium, 2
No-Doz, and half a lid of grass. Mix it well in a Hamilton Blech
mixer. Now add a rotten egg, a decaying guppy, the spleen of 10
freshly killed frogs, and about a fist full of goat brains. Again mix
it all up. To add a bit of zip to the mixture, add some Drain-O. Now
put the whole mixture under a dead horse for 37 hours. After it has
aged, filter it through the right kidney of a rabid llama and serve
it in a slightly soiled bed pan with an olive. Felix Major, quite
obviously developed quite a drunk driving problem. The solution
arrived at was simple and logical. They simply ground up offenders
and added them to 'Intest-rout's. Rumor has it that this extra
ingredient gave the drink the full bodied taste it had always been
lacking.]
Arnold Lint: It's the old "Does a falling tree make a sound if
there's no one there to hear" story, right?
Flarg: Ooo! 'The falling tree makes no noise!' Aren't we the smart-behinded
little cretins!
Xaphod: No, you idiot! It means ... uh ...
Flarg: Actually, he's quite correct. We were not happy with finding out
that we may be alone, so we then assumed that there was the
possibility for an infinite number of varied Nets.
Gillian: How nice.
Flarg: Yes, well, it now became apparent that our one little Net was
entirely insignificant in the scope of things in general.
Mathematically, our percentage of existence amounted to 1 over
infinity, which is too small to even consider. Worse yet, since no
other Net has ever contacted us, we may REALLY not exist after all.
We could REALLY be mirages of the cosmic mind.
Xaphod: Wow, that's heavy!
Flarg: Quiet, you drugged out excuse to evacuate my stomach on the table!
Rod: Go on already!
Flarg: Well, after taking many heavy drugs, we finally arrived at a solid
decision.
Gillian: What was it?
Flarg: We agreed that our existence was so insignificant that anything we
did really wouldn't matter. Hence our national slogan changed to
"Who Cares". After all, in light of everything I've revealed to you,
it must be perfectly obvious that it just doesn't matter what you do
or say on the Net.
Arnold Lint: Boy, I hope the rest of the Net doesn't hear that.
Flarg: Oh, they did. That's why they attacked us and wiped out most of
Netrothea. They just couldn't accept that all the fuss they were
making really didn't amount to a damn thing.
["The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" points out that the Netrotheans were
somewhat renowned for exploding the faiths of others. Prior to their
non-existence fetish, they published a series of treatises titled: "Who is
this guy God anyway?", "Everything you always wanted to know about the
benevolent Lord, but were afraid to ask.", and "Well, that's it for God."
The Netrotheans had no fears of being wiped out for their bizarre views.
They believed that since what we call 'death' is theoretically infinite,
and what we call 'life' is so finite and miserable (what with everybody
wearing digital watches and coveting thy neighbor's bits of green-dyed,
processed plant matter), we must surely have gotten things backwards. They
therefore had no problems dealing with the after-life.]
Xaphod: Wow, that's wild!
Flarg: Now if you really want to blow your mind, consider this: If the Net
doesn't really exist, do we exist? If we exist, what is the point of
our existence? What is the medium of our communication if there
really is no Net? What does it all mean?
Arnold Lint: I don't know?
Rod: That's obvious.
Martin: I'm kind of relieved that nothing really exists. It's sort of
reassuring to know that all the misery I've endured on the Net
really doesn't affect anything anyway.
Gillian: Quiet Martin. Don't you know what this all means! It means that
the constant day to day struggle to keep up with the Net is all
pointless. Posting news is futile, reading news is futile, thinking
about news is futile - because wherever the news came from or goes
to, whatever thought up the news - none of it exists - and neither
do we!
Rod: Yah, just think. We may have been posting news to a void!
Xaphod: Wait a minute! We get replies to our news!
Flarg: We thought of that too. But consider the odds against our actual
existence. They could be considered random at best. The odds of
other beings also existing comes down to the same random
probability. It follows that any communication would have to be a
random coincidence. Now, consider that the only communication we see
is simply processed electrical impulses. Consider the quantity and
speed of the impulses. The odds against them coming together in a
logical combination are astronomically bad. It follows, then, that
what we mistake for communication with other beings (which don't
exist either) are simply galactic burps in our faces, if we existed.
Xaphod: Wow!
Flarg: Well, you wastes of space, I've got to go and kick my dog through a
hedge.
(With that Flarg disappears in a burst of purple smoke. When the smoke
clears, only a can of "Putrina Rat Chow" remains.)
End Of Part 6
What other fantastic things (which don't exist) will be revealed on
Netrothea (which also doesn't exist). To find out ... tune in next time (a
bizarre concept, time) ... same Net-time ... same Net-channel.
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 7
(Xaphod, Gillian, Rod, Martin, and Arnold Lint continue their descent into
the heart of Netrothea. Flarg Brittashik has vanished leaving only a tin of
Putrina Rat Chow in his stead.)
Xaphod: Wow, that was far out!
Martin: If you say so.
(All of a sudden, the 12" CRT on Xaphod's shoulder starts up ... Star Wars
type music kicks in ... Once upon a time, in a Net far, far away, a band
of steadfast hackers are fighting a gallant fight. Vast swarms of
nauseatingly repetitious messages are swamping their news. They must
retaliate. This is their story ... This is Zar Wars ... All the nodes
beginning with the letter Z have banded together, they are tired of always
being last because the Net does everything alphabetically. They decide to
stage a bold attack and make their presence known! to this end they devised
a cunning scheme to echo their news articles across the known Net several
multiple times each posting. In this way, they would be assured the
attention they feel they deserve. Net.landers are at this moment preparing
for a counterattack. They are preparing massive Photocomplaint rays,
Gargantugripe bombs, and the ever deadly Superplasmicautor-
everberatingmegamoleculozapperdingledangledonglehyperintensified-
newandimprovedtimewarping complaint field generators. The last device is
one of the most feared (and hardest to pronounce) in the known Net. Its
power is so incredible that grown men have been known to pull out their own
livers rather than be subjected to its awesome force.)
Rod: Turn that off!
Xaphod: (Doing so) Yah, what a drag.
Arnold Lint: Well, what do we do now.
Gillian: I guess we keep going.
Martin: Do we have to?
All: Yes!
Arnold Lint: Sure could go for a cup of tea.
Xaphod: (Mumbling to himself) Stupid git!
Martin: Do you people really think this is necessary? Why can't you be
satisfied with things as they are? Must you always try to change
them - things can only get worse.
Xaphod: Look you morose metal moron, we're going on so shut up. Look upon
this as an adventure into a whole new life.
Martin: Oh no, not another.
(The stairwell they are on leads into a huge room. So huge that it defies
commentary, only to say that it is, in fact, bloody huge. Off in the
distance there is a faint light. Arnold Lint and company head for it. Two
weeks later they arrive. The light is being emitted from a strange kind of
TTY. There is a plaque nearby which reads: "For the answer to Life, the Net
and Everything, type in 'Help'. For dirty books or leather goods, ring bell
for service. The Inter-Net Megamind Exchange and Novelty Shoppe thanks you
for your patronage of our establishment".)
Arnold Lint: Wow, the answer to Life, the Net, and Everything!
Xaphod: Who cares, lets get at the dirty books!
Rod: Yah! I wonder if they have "Advanced Necrophilia for
Scientists and Engineers" or "Yes, you can be a Toad-Sexer"?
Arnold Lint: Dirty books, way out here?
Xaphod: Of course, depravity is the universal language. Pornographic
material is generally considered legal tender anywhere in the Net.
I once lived for a whole year on Carnolea, just on trading my old
"Gland" magazines and lubricants for supplies.
Gillian: (Disgusted by the antics of Rod and Xaphod) Let's see
the answer already - boy what sicko's.
Xaphod: OK, but then can we get some dirty books.
(Xaphod types in 'HELP' to the keyboard. Strange hummings and buzzings
start to emanate from the TTY. The cryptic characters "101010" appear on
the screen.)
["The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" points out that the number 42, when
viewed in it's binary representation is in fact, quite revealing. There
are many theories for what it actually means. The adult magazine "Spurt"
suggests that it is the perfect pattern for an orgy, three males and three
females being the supposed ideal. The actual shape of the characters of
'101010' seem to bear this out. Also the fact that it does go
'boy-girl-boy ... ' also helps. The religious magazine 'Modern Moral
Majority' (MMM) suggests that it is in fact a message from God. The pattern
indicates that two of the same sex shall not have intercourse. The fact
that there are equal numbers of both male and female indicates that
monogamous relationships are the thing to do. Also the fact that, when
read, left to right, the man always comes first, really gave them an edge
on the ERA (who really didn't listen anyway). Most other people simply
wondered why everyone thought the binary sequence had anything at all to do
with sex.]
Rod: That's it?
Xaphod: Apparently.
Gillian: There must be more than just 42.
Martin: I certainly hope not.
Xaphod: Well, let's try to get some more info!
(Xaphod once again starts typing at the TTY. Characters flash and buzzers
buzz. The TTY finally gives up, it types out: "All right already, if you
really want the answers, take the service elevator to the 127,366,247th
floor, then follow the green line till it meets the blue line till it meets
the orange line till it becomes the slightly off white line. Then climb out
the window, jump off and ask for Ralph. He'll tell you the whole story.
Now push off, I've had a bad day. (To itself now) Where did I put those
Valliums. Crap, I need a drink ... ")
Xaphod: Oh well, what do we have to lose.
Martin: Not much really, just our lives. Of course, my life means so
little already, I doubt I'd mind if it were lost.
Rod: Quiet.
End Of Part 7
What is the actual answer to Life, the Net, and Everything? Will Arnold
Lint get his tea? Will Xaphod get his dirty book? Will the net sponsor a
Pot-Luck-Orgy? For the answers to these and many other pointless questions
... tune in next time ... same Net-time ... same Net-channel.
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 8 - The Flamers Return
(The crew of the Infinity are proceeding to where the TTY directed them. A
place where they would find out more about the answer to Life, the Net, and
Everything.)
Arnold Lint: This is sure a long trip.
Martin: Why even bother to travel through the Net. All that happens is that
you are bombarded with countless meaningless messages from
Singularans about how they feel, and how they feel they should
feel, and how others feel they should feel. You just get over that
and some droning Flamer gets on about how drunk drivers should be
allowed to retain their licenses only if they have oral sex with a
diseased Yak, and they go on, and on, and on, not even realizing
that no one is really paying attention. Just when you finally get
up nerve to post something, some jello-brained fanatic gets on your
case about how you should spell things correctly and "we always do
things proper where I work", and then someone else gets on trying
to correlate the right to spell terribly with the constitution. And
you never know how people will take things, either they're offended
when they shouldn't be, or they take insults as just good
conversation. And if you try to keep personalities out of what you
post, some half wit from a fabled crappy state on the eastern
sea-board comes along and starts getting personal with the insults,
not realizing what he is really getting into. And then some
emaciated loony starts posting 150 line complaints about people
posting 150 line articles, which they don't have to read anyway,
but feel obliged to comment on simply because their minute egos
need the boost of ragging on someone they've never met. And then
some deranged cat-molester starts some boring discussion about the
role of contraception in the development of the ball point pen,
which goes on, and on, and you find that before long your 'n' key
has lost the printing on it from over use. And then people start
sending endless messages about stopping the endless messages of the
ongoing debate. And then your brain bursts from frustration and
even if you try to contribute something worthwhile to the Net,
someone's always getting his rear out of joint about something ...
Xaphod: Will you shut the @#$% up!
Martin: Sure, why not, you weren't really interested anyway.
Rod: You're bloody right about that.
(All of a sudden, the hall they are travelling darkens. Twenty-two Flamers
beam into view. They are noticably ticked off.)
Commander: Look you, we told you to take your mindless drivel off the Net.
Number 1: Yah!
Number 2: Yah!
Rod: Yah! ... yah, yah, yah.
Xaphod: Since when.
Commander: Well, it was in a different time, we boarded your vessel, acted
like the mindless, malodorous, sodomistic necrophiles that we
are, did a lot of shouting, and told you to forever leave the
Net.
Xaphod: Oh yeah, you must be the Flamers from Kekraphoon, you're the ones
with the delusions of representing the consciousness of the Net.
Rod: What a pack of twits, don't you know that the HHGttN has received
almost overwhelming support from all over Netland?
Number 1: We'll have to blast you.
Xaphod: You had your chance torch-head. You should have spoken up when we
started. But now we have a loyal following.
Number 2: But you are taking up valuable space.
Rod: You must be kidding, with the vast quantities of stuff that are
considerably longer than HHGttN that go out on the Net, and ignored
totally, you have the narrow mindedness to use such a worn out
argument.
Commander: What do you expect!
Gillian: Haven't you noticed people asking for missed episodes?
Number 1: Well ... we choose to ignore that.
Commander: Now hold it, we want you OFF. You're upsetting the balance. Time
was when we Flamers had the run of the Net. Those were the good
old days, pouncing on innocent people posting messages for no
reason at all. People cowering in their offices, wondering if we
would cut them to ribbons for spelling errors. Now you've ruined
it. We just can't deal with ... satire (Dinsdale?). Our weak
attempts to counterattack fade quickly. No, you've got to GO, so
we can retain our purity of essence and have no contamination of
our precious bodily fluids.
Xaphod: PUSH OFF you stiff! You aren't the bloody consciousness of the Net,
you aren't even conscious. If you don't like the stuff, nobody is
forcing you to read it. What are you, one of those Moral Majority
types. Yah, that's it, you don't like what people say, so you try
to make sure that nobody hears it. That's censorship, mate. Just
because you don't appreciate or understand something, doesn't make
everyone who does wrong.
Commander: Uh, uh ...
Rod: Why don't we start throwing insults at the guy who sent the
Flamers. We could kick around his childhood and stuff like that.
Xaphod: No, let's not go down to that level.
Gillian: Yah, let's keep our values.
[The editors of "The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" point out that every
attempt is made NOT to name names or point fingers. The HHGttN is a
compendium of commentary intended to help understand what goes on in
Netland, a place often billed as a "wheatfield of mental disorders". The
editors also point out that all episodes are intended purely in the spirit
of comedic-satire. Any insults to any individual's religion, political
views, or anything like that is either purely accidental, or definitely
intentional. The HHGttN complaints department is open at all hours, but has
so far only received one (well intended) complaint, which was kindly
accepted and acknowledged to the sender. The editors remind all Netlanders
that there is no evil spell forcing them to read HHGttN (even though it
makes perfectly good sense to do so)!!! ]
(In a fit of frustration, the Flamers depart, muttering something about "We
shall return".)
Arnold Lint: Well, that was exciting.
Xaphod: Now let's get going and find the answer.
Rod: Yah, and the dirty books.
Gillian: (Looking at a huge mural on what could be considered the wall)
Look over there, it looks like a whole new Net!
Martin: Oh no, not another.
End Of Part 8
Will the crew of the Infinity ever find the answer, or will they get
interrupted again, to find out ... tune in next time ... same Net-time ...
same Net-channel.
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 9
.-----------.
! _ _ !
.-! /* *\ !-.
\! O !/
! !
! .-----. !
! ' ` !
`-----------'
!! !!
Martin
(The crew of the Infinity is continuing on their way to find the
explanation to Life, the Net, and Everything. It is an unbelievably long
trip. It is also notably nasty as Martin insists on droning on and on about
what a waste of time it all is and how it will probably be quite depressing
once the destination is reached and so on. Off in the distance, they hear
pounding type noises. The sounds appear to be getting closer.)
Gillian: What do you think it is?
Arnold Lint: I don't know.
Xaphod: Maybe it's some new and amazingly interesting people.
Martin: I hope not.
Rod: It's definitely getting closer, let's duck out of sight just to be
safe.
(Rod and company duck behind a nearby paperweight. The pounding sounds can
now be identified as the sounds of people running. Mixed in is a metallic
clinking sound and various shouts and yells. As the sound gets closer,
Arnold discerns that there is also a splatting type of sound mixed in.)
Arnold Lint: What is that?
Xaphod: Could be a Rigelian Megapede.
Rod: Or a Richard Simmons show.
(The source of the sound now comes into view. The first thing seen is a
group of seven joggers, of various ages, sexes, and creeds, running for all
they are worth. Close on their heels are two blokes in a Land Rover, they
each wield a large club and a large can of beer. They are, in fact, none
other than Australian Joggering champions Bruce Karnage and Bruce
Bludletter.)
Bruce: Here Bruce, get closer and I'll get another.
Bruce: Right Bruce.
Bruce: Naw, closer, Bruce.
Bruce: Pass me a beer, Bruce.
Bruce: Right Bruce.
(The Land Rover approaches the slowest jogger and Bruce pockets him in the
corner with a polo-like shot to the head, causing little bits of brain to
spurt out his ears.)
Bruce: That was lovely, Bruce!
Bruce: Thank you, Bruce.
(The joggers and the joggerers depart, the racket follows them, as well it
should.)
Rod: That was great, what a shot.
Arnold Lint: That was awful, how vicious and cruel.
Martin: I don't know, I almost enjoyed it.
Gillian: What do they call that.
Xaphod: That's joggering, lovely sport.
Rod: Let's go already.
Arnold Lint: What a savage Net we live in.
["The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" indicates that one of the most savage
races in the known Net are the Incindarans. These types make the normal
Flamers look like choir boys. These types liked to censor shows like "8 is
Enough" due to it's immoral plot lines. They even went so far as to publish
'G' rated versions of the Old, New, and Video Testaments (blessed be the
Holy Box). Legend has it that their system was kept off the Net for a long
period of time. Their system lords felt that this would be best in light of
the tendencies of those in the system. Things got so bad in Incindara that
the system lords decided they better find someone else to fight before they
wiped themselves out. So the Incindaran system was let onto the Net. They
were so busy fighting amongst each other that nobody noticed the portal to
the Net. An errant message found its way to Incindara which made them all
realize that they were not alone. They selected their most learned scholar,
Clyd Noeitall, to investigate the wondrous Net. It was the first time
Incindara had taken enough time out from fighting to do anything. It was
indeed a great day. He and his colleagues than set out and talked with the
Net for the first time. Unfortunately, they came in right in the middle of
the debates over Big Mac's. Upon seeing this, Clyd turned to his colleague
and said: "No, it's all got to go". Following this they began to
systematically torch almost every place in the Net. A long war followed in
which the Incindarans lost badly. The Net, being a bit ticked off, decided
on a punishment that suited the crime. They took away all the 'n' keys on
every terminal in Incindara. Unfortunately, they forgot to make Incindara a
read-only location, allowing the Incindarans to verbally flame. The few
Incindarans who survived can still be found flaming at will about
everything they read (which is everything as there are no 'n' keys). The
once proud and feared Incindarans have been reduced to ranting about Burger
King, drunk drivers, sterilizing non-supporters of ERA, and so on. "The
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" warns all Net travellers that when such
types are encountered, the best course of action is to abort the debate, as
it is probably pointless anyway.]
End Of Part 9
What is the explanation of Life, the Net, and Everything? How did Bruce do?
Did Bruce get his beer. Is Brooke Shields an Alien? To find out ... tune in
next time ... same Net-time ... same Net-channel.
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 10
(Xaphod, Rod, Gillian, and Marvin are still on their way to find out more
about Life, the Net, and Everything. From off in the distance they hear a
hollow roar punctuated by gunfire. Before they have a chance to grasp the
situation, a huge battle tank screeches to a halt in front of them. It is a
fearsome device with great nasty teeth painted on it. The cannon looks as
if it could punch a hole through a small planet. A hatch opens and a
rightly uniformed man steps out, crushing a passing cat under his boot.)
Cat: (splat)
Rod: Wh . . . who are you?
Roarin' George: I'm General Roarin' George Pahton. I heard there was some
Singularans around here. Thought I'd do some American style
joggering.
Xaphod: Oh yeah, they went that a way.
Arnold Lint: Why does everyone pick on the Singularans? They only seek
meaningful personal relationships with people they find special.
Roarin' George: Right, that's it, we're gonna have some order around here.
No more of these damn cliches. From here on out, the following
rules will apply: Anyone who uses the phrases 'special', 'personal
relationship', or 'meaningful relationship' WILL be fined twenty
dollars for the first offense. Subsequent offenders will have their
genitalia removed with a sharp rock. Anyone who corrects the
spelling of another, WILL be fined 100 dollars. I won't stand for
any namby-pamby intellectuals checking spelling when there's so
much to do. Anyone caught agreeing with anything an oppositely
gendered personnel says in an obvious attempt to make points, WILL
have both kneecaps shattered with a ball-pean hammer. Likewise,
anyone saying things which are right out of soap operas with the
intentions mentioned above WILL also have his (or her) kneecaps
shattered with a ball-pean hammer. Remember, this is the NET, it's
tough out there. Keep your emotions to yourself, do you want a
bunch of commies to read that gooey crap? Why they'll think we're
wimps, then they'll invade. They've started infiltrating already -
ever been to one of the dating service places? They're all commies,
draining away our precious bodily fluids. Now, get back to work!
(With that, he climbs back into the tank and drives off, casually blowing a
4 foot hole in a nearby wall. Just then, the 12" CRT on Xaphod's shoulder
springs to life. On it is a man in a white suit with a Bible in one hand
and a microphone in the other. He speaks: "Friends. Why are we here today?
We are here to hear the words - (Amen) - to hear the holy words from the
Holy Box - (Amen). Oh blessed be the Holy Box, and it's disciples: Prophet
Ronko, Prophet K-Dul, and the Prophet Popeel - (Amen Amen Amen). Yes, they
lead is to immaculate spending. We here at the Church of the Divine Vision
believe in Johnny and Merv and Mike. TV is the reflection of life, and life
is a reflection of reality, therefore TV IS REALITY. Yes, Mrs. Olson may
be a Nazi, but if you buy Foljers, you can bake just like her. And Robert
Yung may have multiple personalities and a penchant for farm animals, but
if you drink his coffee, you can remain calm in the midst of a nuclear
explosion ... ")
Rod: Shut that OFF.
Xaphod: Bloody religious fanatics.
Arnold Lint: What an odd religion, worshiping a TV, seems hard to
believe.
Martin: Not really, just another awful attempt to deal with this miserable
Net. It's all a cop out. You can't understand something so you
pretend that there is something else in control. It's all rubbish.
Gillian: Quiet. Of course there's a supreme being.
Martin: If you say so, but if God didn't already exist, he would have to be
invented.
Rod: It's hopeless talking to him.
["The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" indicates that the members of the
Church of the Divine Vision are basically agnostics. They prefer to believe
what they see on the tube to what some half starved people wrote about over
2000 years ago. They can't meet God, but if the TV gives them trouble, they
can always replace it. Their belief led to the writing of the Video
Testament, which is the gospel for all believers in the Holy Box. Although
it seems unlikely, the Church of the Divine Vision was supposed to have
formed some amazing concepts as to how the Net exists.]
Gillian: Let's go.
Martin: Do we have to?
(They all ignore Martin and press on. Two days later they arrive at their
destination. In front of them is a rather bug-eyed looking lizard.)
Xaphod: Hey man, are you the one with the dope on Life, the Net, and
Everything.
Lizard: Yes, I am Teddy the Wonder Lizard. I know all there is to know
about Life, the Net, and Everything.
Rod: Well, tell us!
Gillian: Please do!
Teddy: You won't like it.
Martin: (sarcastically) Now that's a real surprise.
Teddy: Are you sure you want to know?
Arnold Lint: Yes, what is it, got to more than forty-bloody-two.
Teddy: Yes, that was the answer we told the Net. We figured that the real
answer was so awful, they'd rather get something vague and argue
about it forever.
Xaphod: Well, out with it.
Teddy: It's all here, in the Video Testament!
(He hands Xaphod an old looking book, pops about a dozen valiums, and then
switches on a nearby TV set. He is watching 'Real People'.)
Xaphod: Well, that should finish him off.
Arnold Lint: The drugs?
Rod: No, 'Real People', lowers the IQ so much that the brain just packs it
in and you die.
Gillian: Find the answer already!
Xaphod: Okay, now lets see . . .
End Of Part 10
What is the answer to Life, the Net, and Everything? Why are we here? Are
we here? And why is it that vampires never attack Jewish neighborhoods? For
the answers to some of these questions ... tune in next time ... same
Net-time ... same Net-channel.
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 11 - Life, The Net, and Everything Part 1
(Xaphod, Rod, Gillian, and Arnold Lint have just received the 'Video
Testament' - a scripture said to contain the answer to Life, the Net, and
Everything.)
Rod: Well, go on, read it.
Arnold Lint: Do you think we should?
Xaphod: Yah, why not.
Martin: I can think of a few reasons.
Gillian: Quiet, we're going to find out what it all means. Aren't you the
least bit excited?
Martin: (droning sarcastically) Oh yes, I can hardly contain myself.
Xaphod: Never mind him, lets read this amazingly amazing book.
(They open the book and it speaks to them.)
Book: Hark, who goest there.
Rod: Uh, who are you?
Book: I ... am the Video Testament. The compendium of all knowledge and
smart stuff from the mythical age of Kubla Konthemasus. You may call
me ... Ralph.
["The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" has this to say about the mythical
ruler Kubla Konthemasus: He was reported to be from Austria or Germany. He
was supposed to be short and have a funny little mustache. He was supposed
to have died in 1945 and then be reborn in Argentina. His followers looked
upon him as a sort of Messiah, who would lead them to the land of Silk and
Money. All of this is, of course, purely hypothetical; as were Konthemasus'
friends Herman (Hermie) McGoering, and Crazy Joe Stalinson.]
Xaphod: Ralph?
Ralph: Well, what do you expect?
Rod: Well, not Ralph.
Gillian:Can you tell us ...
Ralph: The answer to Life, the Net, and Everything.
Gillian: ... why yes.
Arnold Lint: That's amazing.
Xaphod: To you it would be.
Rod: Tell us what it all means.
Ralph: You won't like it.
Martin: That's no surprise.
Xaphod: Just ignore him.
Ralph: Well, it all began sometime in the 1950's. A group of very wealthy
and powerful men assembled in Argentina under the guidance of a man
calling himself Kubla Konthemasus. This group of magnates were from
various political affiliations - Nazis, Communists, Capitalists,
and Urologists. They all liked money and wanted to rule the world.
They also realized that TV was going to be the tool that would give
them the leverage they needed.
Xaphod: I don't like the way this is starting to sound.
Rod: Me neither.
Ralph: I warned you.
Martin: You should have listened to him.
Arnold Lint: Go on.
Ralph: Well, they began to infiltrate the TV industry. Soon they not only
owned huge percentages of each network, but had also emplaced their
own people into many of the creative positions at each network.
Then they began to manipulate things. They decided to cast the
world in an image that they could easily control. So each little
kid on TV was either predictably (and sickeningly) nice and
helpful, or predictably always getting into trouble. Women were
either predictably aggressive or predictably obtuse. You see, they
set up patterns of behavior that they could count on. Once they
could predict and control how the public would react to something,
they could do whatever they wanted. Whenever they wanted to do
something really tricky (like when they took over the Mid-East oil
fields in the late 70's and early 80's) they made sure to get the
country thinking their way before hand with a massive TV
bombardment. If it was a topic that they knew nobody would go for
no matter how they publicized it, they flooded the airways with
those sickening human emotion type TV-movies. Things like "Plight
of the Forgotten Children" or "Why is Daddy always angry?". The
kind of stuff that makes you want to blow lunch.
Rod: Wow, that's amazing.
Xaphod: Yah.
Ralph: Their greatest triumph was getting a president elected. Their plan
was simple. They made sure that the east coast was for their
candidate, leaving the west coast alone. Then, on election day, the
TV 'predictions' claimed their candidate to be a sure winner. Due
to the time difference, all the people on the west coast thought
the election was over anyway and didn't even bother to vote.
Xaphod: Wow, imagine getting a president elected by manipulating the media.
Ralph: And guess what ... he was an actor!
Gillian: What a coincidence.
Rod: Yah, imagine that.
Martin: Doesn't surprise me ... I expect such things from humans.
Arnold Lint: But what does all this have to do with the Net?
Gillian: Yah, controlling TV is great but most people in the Net are far
too dedicated to their work to partake of anything as tacky as TV.
We're all thoroughly dedicated professionals.
(If it were possible for an android to suppress a burst of uncontrollable
laughter, that is what Martin could now be described as doing.)
Rod: Yah what about the Net!?
Ralph: Well ...
End Of Part 11
What are the interests of this Neo-Nazi-Communist-Capitalist organization
in the Net? The answer will surprise you - unless you're a great stupid
twit. To find out more ... tune in next time ... same Net-time ... same
Net-channel.
Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
Episode 12 - Life, The Net, and Everything Part 2
(Ralph, the 'Video Testament' is just about to explain Life, the Net, and
Everything to the crew of the Infinity)
Gillian: Tell us, what does all this neo-Nazi stuff have to do with the
Net.
Arnold Lint: I don't think I want to know.
Martin: Me neither.
Rod: Quiet.
Xaphod: Go on . . .
Ralph: Anyway, Kubla Konthemasus' followers were doing great. Anything
they showed on TV was immediately accepted as truth. Disco became an
overnight sensation, and then was phased out when the profit wasn't
great enough. It was soon realized that there was a significant
group of people in computer related fields who possessed
considerable wealth. It was also realized that these people were not
being taken in by the video blitz.
Arnold Lint: Good for us!
Martin: Not really, I'm afraid.
Ralph: Very perceptive, robot. Konthemasus' research showed that hackers do
not believe what they see or hear, unless it comes across a computer
terminal. It was fast becoming apparent that computers would be
vital to the power of the new regime, so it was vital that anyone
who worked with computers could be controlled.
Gillian: Yes, but what does that have to do with the Net? The Net is an
exchange of ideas and ideals between computer professionals!
(Martin starts coughing sarcastically)
Ralph: Kubla Konthemasus, in a brilliant stroke, figured out a way to not
only carry out an experiment in behavioral psychology on the
computing professionals, but also to put into action all his
findings. He created the Net. You see, there are a few key links in
the Net controlled by his men. At first they tried a variety of
topics and tested reactions. Then they started trying to bend the
opinion of Net-landers. First by trying to get everyone to like
current trends in music, then by trying to create the impression
that North Dakota does not exist. Anyone who rejected the ideas they
tried to push, and was fool enough to say so, was put onto a list.
This list will be used to purge the society of all those who would
corrupt the purity of essence of Konthemasus' new order of
conformity and religious fulfillment.
Xaphod: Wow, that's unbelievable.
Rod: Yah, I don't think I do believe it.
Arnold Lint: Me neither ... An actor in the white house? ...
No North Dakota? ... Couldn't happen!
Gillian:I don't know, maybe ...
Ralph: Well, that's about it. I've got to go, lots to do.
Rod: What could a book have to do?
Ralph: About an ounce of cocaine!
(With that, Ralph vanishes into thin air. The crew of the Infinity is left
standing, dumb founded by what they have heard. They start to leave and
come to the door. There is a moment of hesitation.)
Gillian: If anyone of you open the door for me, I'll put the boot in.
Arnold Lint: What's with her.
Rod: She's an ERA.
Arnold Lint: A what?
Xaphod: ERA - An Extra Rights Activist.
[According to "The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net", the Extra Rights
Activists group was started by a group of women who were quite upset by
their station in life. They didn't just want equality, they wanted
superiority. They figured they could get all the privileges of equality
with men, and yet retain all the conveniences regarded them as women. They
wanted equal pay for less work, lower taxes for women, shorter work hours.
After all, the fairer sex shouldn't have to work so hard, but they do
deserve the same pay. They didn't want to join the army though. They felt
that in some cases, where it was convenient, men could still have it all.
The one thing you could do to make an ERA mad was to hold the door for her.
They took it as a sign of harassment ... no one knows why. Other acts of
courtesy were also mistaken as antagonizing the ERA movement. Helping an
ERA with her coat was the same as telling her she smelled like bathroom at
the National Food Poisoners Convention. Helping an ERA with her chair in a
restaurant was tantamount to clubbing her about the head with a moldy
Albatros. In response to this threat to male dominated society, the
all-male anti-ERA faction MCP (Male Counter-ERA Pact) circulated a pamphlet
explaining what a man could do if the woman he was with gave any
indications of trying to open the door before he could open it for her. It
read as follows:
** How not to hold the door for an ERA **
If the woman you are with starts to race for the door so she can open it
for herself, and this upsets you, here are a few things you can do to make
sure it won't happen again.