h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I was musing.
Not musicing but musing and perusing.

And I had that moment.

There is a humongous gap in the entry.

What? I hear you all cry.

Surely the guide has covered most of the important things.

Or the unimportant.

Or mundane.

Or esoteric.

Or downright bizarre.

What can possibly be missing that is so ginormously humungously blatantly obviously missed that we have missed?

An entry on NIGHTHOOVER!!!



Lettuce spray.

Surely this needs correcting?

Anyone?

Hello?

Is there anybody there?

Nighthoover?

2legs?

Oh well. It was a thought.









MMF

Can anything be "definitive" regarding Nighthoover?


Are any of the old italics willing to go on record about how nighthoover's page was nuked from orbit?

Do we include the German poem we found all those years ago on another site?

Who's going to proofread 2legs verbiage?


There are just so many questions about how we could even begin to go about such saga.

Apparently, someone named Nighthoover opened a Twitter account in 2009.

The Urban Dictionary mentions Nighthoover as a deity.

The hoovery, some say hovery, appendage of suction, has indeed spread far, in the time that has past, since the fateful september days, of yonder... but, indeed, what, as many pundits have pondered, previously, can, further be added, to that that, or which has prevailed before, from all that has been, that will be, that even might be, or indeed, wasn't, previously written, spoken, and sung, as regards the most hoovery of the night; indeed, as postulated, so extensibly before, is there, or can there be, anything so definitive, as that of the legacy, continueing, perpetually, of the nighthoover herself, and the immortal, immutable words of the prophet? far far greater minds, have, many-fold, postulated, hypothesised, and contemplated, this, and other issues, and yet, throughout such postulation, procrastination, and contemplation did they nere reach anything as such resembling a conclusion, as was not worth its own weight in fish.... although... maybe... just maybe....

The "good" news is that at least there's also not yet a Nighthoover entry on Wikipedia.

That can be rectified.

When and if Wikipedia adds such an article, maybe the real Nighthoover will notice it and realize how famous she has become.

The reputation of the hoovery one has indeed spread wide.... global yet, thankfully not on w****dia... how odd

Not everyone with a global reputation deserves respect. But Nighthoover is commendably reluctant to make us wish she would be quiet. This is true charisma. We listen carefully for any word of her.

There was one other who was always a mystery to me. Researcher 247766.

This person showed as on-line 24/7, and spake not one word.

One theory is that it was simply a maintenance account, used by BBC staff. But who ever really took the Italics seriously?

The much more likely answer was that it was someone who joined the site - and merely awaited the arrival of s/he that encouraged him to join. And lo, many years later was nothing more than a desiccated shell, festooned with dust and cobwebs.

A definitive entry on Nighthoover - be very afraid.

If you define the doctrine, thereby you define Heresy and hence the bloodshed begins.


Lettuce Spray and remain in the metaphysical

It would take someone very serious minded to write seriously about such a silly topic. This sounds like a job for Gnomon.

There was a mysterious Researcher,
So little ever seen from him or her,
Despite much grovel, bows and prays,
And unending lettuce sprays,
None have yet revealed this wonder.

All bow, scrape and spray for the return of NightHoover.

We wait for Nighthoover's return,
While cinnamon incense we burn.
We toast to her name,
We honor her fame,
With show tunes by old Jerome Kern.

The cinnamon-dusted carpets await her return, equally desiriously Hmm.... actually the floor in this studeo really needs a clean

She hoovers by palest moonlight,
While dressed in diaphanous white,
A rose in her hair,
A red pocket square,
And shoes from the Isle of Wight.

she hoover's with all her might,
ridding of each and every dust mite,
yet, try as she might, she can't find a rhyme for orange.

Will the dust hover over the hoover?

The Muse of florid words assists me not
to say a performative sound
that could bring Nighthoover around.
O Muse of magic words, light my thought!

praise be... lettuce spray

Let's toast the amazing Nighthoover,
A shaker and also a mover.
With lovely brown bangs,
Her portrait now hangs
In some remote wing of the Louvre.