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

I sat ootside in the cauld listening to old radio plays. Miah and another cat had a fight somewhere up in a tree. It's raining now. 5pm. Where has the day gone? Susan will have been busy - today is veg box delivery day. I've made a pot of... well... stuff for tea.

Phil Daniels really is an excellent Quilp. Last week there was a wonderfully scary dialogue between Dick Swiveller and Dick Swiveller as Mr Punch. It was really creepy.

I don't believe that Britain is on the edge of some sort of social and moral collapse; things remain pretty constant - victorian yobs become C 21st hoodies; and I don't believe that the world is as awful and hellish a place as people say it is. But still, nor is it any bed of roses, and living here - anywhere - is a chore; all a matter of filling the long and empty hours till death. I didn't ask to be born and have no desire to outlive my tenure on the planet by a second; and think that if I could erase myself and all memory of me by pressing a button, with no distress to anyone else, I'd do it in an instant. It might be different if I thought there was any worthwhile thing - even one - that I could do well... if I could look up over the walls of the maze...

http://youtube.com/watch?v=nZ9EWcaS7II


Douglas