Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy – the Movie, the cult, 42, and possibly everything


As with all great inspirations, Douglas Adams came up with the idea for HHG when he was 19 and lying senselessly drunk in a field in Austria. Unfortunately the makers of the latest version of the HHG movie weren’t similarly inspired. Their intentions were honorable but their intoxication was lacking, as was their ability to lie senseless in a field in Austria. Didn’t they know that the Law of the Universe takes a very dim view of tampering with perfection? Didn’t they also know that perfection can only be made more prefect by the addition of one towel? Didn’t they know that 42 may have been wrong since 19 seems to have more HHG significance? Didn’t they know that Trillian was much more attractive on old sheets of materials made from cellulose pulp than she was on new, shiny silver screens? Apparently they didn’t know many things.

The atmosphere created in the movie Hitchhikers Guide to The Galaxy was somewhat alien to the book – no pun intended but a nice try if it was. Douglas Adams was a talented writer and his claim to fame was that he was able to take the most serious things in the Universe and give them all the significance they deserve; none. I suspect the hysterical bouts of laughter from the audience at the movie theatre were from either my fellow HHG cult followers or teenagers talking to their parents on their cell phones. In my opinion, this movie was not meant to be an introduction to the HHG, but it was meant as a tool for briefly galvanizing fanatics, if only for one hour and fifty minutes in half empty theaters while munching popcorn and sipping caffeine infested super-sized colas, which is guaranteed keep them up all night wondering why Hollywood had failed again.

What Really Happened


What actually took place on that dreadful Wednesday morning at the bookstore was the stuff legends are not made of, and what follows is all I can remember.

In the humblest of tones I asked the sales girl for Dean Koontz. She looked surprised and told me the Dean was in fact Stephen. The marginally cheerful girl proceeded to tell me that Dean was my mistake, and all they ever had was Stephen Coonts. Being ignorant of Coonts I doubted such a thing existed. Triumphantly, she took the Coonts and placed it in my hands. I guess there isn’t even a subtle difference in the pronunciation between Coonts and Koontz. This tragic state of affairs might have occured because I was mispronouncing the name for months, much to the delight of some, and to the outrage of others. At any rate, I couldn’t help feel that I was holding an imitation Koontz in my hand but she assured me that it was the real thing. I flicked through the Coonts and it felt and looked real enough, but having been encouraged to go on this quest by a diabolical but quite attractive reader, I persisted. Surely, I asked, in a tone reserved for dealing with sales people in bookstores just north of the Caroni River, Koontz was even more popular than Coonts and she must have heard of Koontz. She shook her head in a way sales people like to shake their heads. That is the one-thing customers and sales people have in common, we all like to shake sales people’s heads.

I like making long stories short because the attention span of the average bloger is three lines and only when double-spaced and typed in very large fonts. To the sale girl’s credit she asked her boss who is much like Charlie in Charlie’s Angels, heard but never seen and for purely esthetic reasons. Charlie said that Coonts was all they ever had and even though several hundred customers were asking for Koontz they saw no reason to bring those in. A Koontz is a Coonts he said with all the charm a used toothpick can muster. I thanked Charlie for his lack of wisdom and for staying behind the door. I thanked the sales girl for offering the Coonts but I politely said I was in no mood for substitutes.

This part of the saga doesn’t have a happy ending since I am still without Koontz and now I must go deep in the Amazon and see if I find a Koontz or two. The quest continues and hope is all I have.

To be continued……

I am sorry for publishing this blog and I feel I must remove it…:))


I am sorry that this blog might offend but in reality this conversation almost happened, and in a book store of some repute. If there is an outcry from the general bloging public I will remove it, otherwise I will delete it. Please note the offence is probably all in the mind.

Excuse me Miss, do you have any books by Koontz?

What! Koontz?

Yes, Koontz.

Not so loud sir! And those would be in the adult section behind the cashier.

Adult section? Behind the cashier?

Yes, behind the cashier on the top shelf next to the ceiling tiles.

Why are the Koontz books in the adult section behind the cashier on the top shelf next to the ceiling tiles?

We can’t have the miners getting their hands on that kind of thing too easily.

Miners? You mean minors.

That’s what I just said, miners.

You do know that there are words which sound almost the same but mean completely different things.

If you say so sir.

It is so! Anyway what is wrong with miners seeing Koontz books?

Sir, Koontz is an adult type of thing.

I will take your word for it but I have never had one before.

What? Never before?

No, but I have read about Koontz many times and it sounds like my kind of thing. I can’t wait to get my hands on one, or even two. It’s a long weekend coming up.

Sir, I am not very comfortable with this conversation.

Well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation if the Koontz was more accessible.

Please sir, come this way and I will show you the Koontz.

Is it true that all Koontz are the same?

I wouldn’t know sir. There they are, enjoy!

Thanks for your help Miss and I intend to!

Passion or Hype?


I doubt anyone would want to know why I wasn’t sucked in by the recent Star Wars vortex, but I will tell him or her anyway because I lack any moral bloging fiber. First I must say that this is not a statement against, or for any Star Wars movie, but only my opinion on the state of movie making today.

I can’t say exactly which movie pushed me over the edge, but I have become Hollywood-hype-weary. Unashamedly, Hollywood is more concerned with creating the market for the movie than creating the passion for making the movie. It would appear that product placement, special effects, lots of perfect skin and overdone marketing on overdone TV channels is the key to any “successful” blockbuster movie. In my opinion, by doing so it makes the movie less worthy.

I am generous to myself so I would call my attitude old fashioned and purist. On the other hand, my friends would call me a fraud, because they do know I love great special effects. But, to my friends I say, not when these effects are used to replace content and the raw passion of filmmaking. I could never support blatant commercialism substituting for artistic passion. Hollywood is now creating tons of two-hour wonders rather than a few good lifetime memories. If I had to rate any movie I would give it a 5 if I can remember most of it by the time I get home. I would give it a 6 if I can remember it the next day, a 7 the day after that and so on and so on. And I only mean remember in a positive sense.

The dollar is now the only Force to recon with, and it is being used to manipulate our minds into accepting bland canned goods instead of wholesome fresh produce. I don’t only blame Hollywood for this present fiasco. I also blame our lazy minds, which has developed an addiction for instant and temporary excitement rather than making an effort in discovering the passion behind the movie.

Hollywood is devious and have fashioned these movies to work like popcorn – one is never enough. Then the hype further says you must also have these movies on DVD, and you must also talk incessantly about them, because hollow entertainment channels constantly bombard us with petty hype.

Hopefully, I don’t stand alone with this point of view. But sadly, I will allow my self to succumb to peer- pressure and follow the masses to see empty screens full of pictures. But all is not lost, since I will be doing this while eating popcorn, the one remaining virtue of the movie-going experience.

A Simple Theory


I agree in the possibility there exist a Supreme being that created all we hold sacred, and for a purpose we call divine. My question about all this is simple, why do we assume we are the coolest creation rather than just another chemistry experiment gone horribly wrong? Why, because it pains us to imagine otherwise. We argue, if life is just a hoax then why must we have this urge to go on? What is our purpose? I propose the following theory. “Penicillin was discovered from a fungal colony which had grown as a contaminant on an agar plate streaked with the bacterium Staphylococcus aureus.” Most would have overlooked the potential for this unsightly mold to become the lifesaver of millions. It is so to with mankind. We are still in the fungal stage and struggling to make an impact on The Universe. We are struggling to play a part in stabilizing this dynamic force.

In this system the only judge, juror or executioner is the law of The Universe. As a life form, we are begging to be important, but we are doing everything to achieve the opposite. We have our good points and many bad ones, but our strength lies in recognizing what is good and building on the good of previous generations. These actions would ensure our survival, and evolution into a stabilizing force of The Universe. Adversely, our weakness lies in our tremendously destructive and selfish tendencies.

In the Universe it is the survival of the fittest and if mankind continues on this current path of “every man for himself” then our collective negative actions will be to our destruction. Life as we know it won’t go on, but the Universe will. There will be no last minute divine intervention because The Universe makes no exceptions. Isn’t that what religions are trying to teach us? Don’t we mistake the metaphoric for the literal? Aren’t these some of the reasons we are evolving into an unstable force which is destined for extinction? The evidence suggest it is so.

Crimes and Misdemeanors


Here is another quote from a Woody Allen Movie – Crimes and Misdemeanors:


Quote:
We’re all faced throughout our lives with agonizing decisions, moral choices. Some are on a grand scale, most of these choices are on lesser points. But we define ourselves by the choices we have made. We are, in fact, the sum total of our choices. Events unfold so unpredictably, so unfairly, Human happiness does not seem to be included in the design of creation. It is only we, with our capacity to love that give meaning to the indifferent universe. And yet, most human beings seem to have the ability to keep trying and even try to find joy from simple things, like their family, their work, and from the hope that future generations might understand more.

Taskless Workforce


The International Blogers Union (IBU) has finally acknowledged that a fresh four-year spate of appalling blogs was now infesting the once pleasant and peaceful bloging landscape. In a regular emergency session last night, where the atmosphere was described as deeply moronic, the IBU set up set up yet another taskless workforce to investigate this recent four-year old phenomenon. A press release signed by The Union’s intellectually deficient president, Areald Otish, stated that the president is almost concerned, and will now take on the responsibility of tracking down all violators of the unwritten bloging code, when he can spare the time. The release also stated that all violators will be punished as much as possible or even more. Like all releases it went on and on only to say the obvious; the worst violator will be made president, once he or she can match the intellectual capacity of the current president, meaning, the violator must be brain-dead but still be able to walk and talk.


In other breaking news: loud screams were heard coming from the mansion of the notorious bloger, aka_lol. Neighbors were tightlipped about the situation but an anonymous source, who did not give her name but who looked quite riveting in her heart-stopping short skirt, was reported to have seen anywhere from six to half a dozen men, dressed in bloging outfits, force their way through an open doorway of the blogers high security mansion, shortly after he had returned from his nightly peeping-tom activities. When questioned further the busty source said she was pleasantly surprised to find aka_lol at her window. She also claimed she had no previous or even present knowledge. (BN)

Carib and Arawak



Carib and Arawak

Isn’t it ironic that both the “ancient” and modern history of our country would start with Carib(s) and Arawak(s)?

once again I have to tank, or is it thank, the wonderful webmaster@mayarobeach.com for his kind and generous permission to use the pictures above. we at this Blog salute you Webby!
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Jeez!! What a sleeze ball!!

Making Blog


 

Aka wanted his blog to change direction. He wanted it to have even some direction. After all, his blog was his legacy. Some things in life are more unfortunate than others but Aka’s blog was beyond unfortunate. It became an embarrassment to the blogging community and there were plans afoot to either have him shape up or ship out. Aka couldn’t decide which was worse so he flipped a coin. The coin, the finest decision making device ever invented, choose shaping up. The transformation would necessairly have to start with a name change, so he brain-stormed for several painful seconds. In Aka’s case, brain-storms were more like brain-drizzles, or brain-fizzles.

Ok, enough of Aka and his ramblings. Here are the nominees for Best Aka’s New Blog Name:

The Things We Do For Blog

No Money No Blog

16 Ways To Leave Your Blogger

Blog Letter

That’s What Blog Is All About

Blog Of My Life

Blog Hurts

All in Blog Is Fair

Endless Blog

Feel Like Making Blog

Glory Of Blog

I Blog The Way You Blog Me

I Don’t Want To Live Without Your Blog

Blogs Can Move Mountains

Blog Will Conquer All

All Out Of Blog

Remember Me With Blog

Blog Me Or Leave Me

Will You Still Blog Me Tomorrow

My Blog Is Your Blog

I Know What Blog Is

Could This Be Blog

And the winner is…………coming soon to a Blog near you.

The Blog Master Cometh


The First, and only remaining Paragraph (much too long) of Aka’s most rejected novel, The Blog Master Cometh

The deadline is getting closer but I must be brave, I MUST overcome. The Blog Master would not be tolerant this time and I must produce. I can hear the clock ticking away as I look over my shoulders. My heart stops, or maybe it is only the clock. The keyboard is unfriendly, but I continue anyway. Sweat drips and I still have a full head of hair. A creak comes from the steps below and I know The Blog Master cometh. My days as a Bloger are coming to an end, but much too soon for one as gifted, and handsome as me. I will not give up. I will not give them their way. They laughed at me in The Village and they called me a Blog Monster. I will show them, I will have no mercy. My Blog is my life and I won’t let them take that away. The creaks get louder and now sounds like an old bed in a house of ill repute during a bout of prepaid passion. I see shadows, they are getting longer and longer, not unlike those in the old Hammer horror flicks. I ignore their slow and overdramatic approach as I attack the keyboard with a passion never before seen in this Blog. My creation is about to come to life; it moves, light flashes, but not where I thought it would. I hear a loud thud; The Blog Master apparently has bumped his head again. I snicker at the thought. I wish him the pain of a hundred nagging women during PMS. I am almost done; The Blog to end all Blogs is about to be born. Suddenly, I hear a loud crash, the lights go out, my UPS kicks in for once, I press save, but something doesn’t feel right, it feel wrong, it feels a bit soft around the edges but not all that bad. I see another flash and I am terrified at the sight. I didn’t expect this! I know they were devious but I never imagined they would stoop this low. I shriek, and my lights go dim, then, slowly, they go out. That was the last thing I remembered.

Blogers Note:

The Blog Master Cometh was banned and therefore will not be released at a Blog Outlet near you as previously advertised. Refuds for advanced orders will not be forthcoming, since Aka has already paid for his flight to Lithuania.

Interview With A Bloger


This is the now famous fictitious interview done by the famous but fictitious bombshell reporter Mini Skirt, with the even more fictitious and less famous Aka Lol. Mini was predictably dressed and Aka was also dressed. The reason this interview was conducted is still unknown.

Mini: Aka, what is the meaning of Life is a Beach, or as you annoyiningly put it, This Beach Called Life.

Aka: It means life is like a beach.

Mini: Can you expand on this since our readers and not as smart as you.

Aka: Do I detect a hint of sarcasm in your tone?

Mini: It wasn’t a hint!

Aka, rolling his eyes and looks to the ceiling after taking a peep at Mini’s low cut top.

Aka: Very well, Mini, I will expand. I like the beach and I like my life. Sometimes the beach is calm and peaceful and very reassuring. It can bring out the best in you and it can lock out the world. At its best, there is nothing that can compare to the beach. Then there are times when the beach can be rough and unpleasant. It is totally transformed into something unrecognizable and unbearable. But it never stays that way for very long, and it soon comes back to its peaceful state. As I said, Life is a Beach.

Mini: Ok, whatever.

Aka: Did I impress you?

Mini: No.

Aka: @#$%

Mini: Will you not resort to this vile behavior?

Aka, looks amused, but mostly he looks at the rising hem on Mini’s skirt.

Mini: Some say you are an atheist, is that true?

Aka: I will be any type of doctor you want me to be.

Mini: An 8-tee-yist. Is someone who doesn’t believe in God. I thought you were smart.

Aka: I am smart but only around smart people. But to answer you first question, I don’t believe in religion though I do believe it is useful. I do believe in God but not the limited Gods of religions. I do not believe in the religion of fear but the religion of kindness and compassion.

Mini: Do you consider yourself a deep person?

Aka: No, I do not.

Mini: You write stuff that most people don’t write. Some say that means you are deep.

Aka: What it means is that I write stuff that most people do not. That is not deep, that means I have an idle mind and some time on my hands.

Mini: Do you have a general philosophy for life?

Aka: Right this minute it is A healthy mind in a healthy body.

Mini: So you are an advocate of fitness.

Aka: And I believe we are all fit people.

Mini: What do you mean, oh deep-one.

Aka: You flatter me, but not enough. What I mean is that we are all fit for different things. I met a guy yesterday who was fit for prison. Two days ago I saw a womanizer who was fit for plastic surgery. You get the gist of my theory.

Mini: I was expecting a deeper answer from one so enlightened. Can you be serious for just a short time?

Aka: Not with everything rising all round me.

As he ends the sentence, Aka looks at Mini’s hem line making slow progress. Mini doesn’t notice Aka’s less than casual glances at the main attraction. Mini looks to the heavens but only makes it as far as the ceiling. She seems to need the patience to deal with this guy called Aka.

Mini: How long have you been bloging?

Aka: That sounds very indecent, thanks.

Mini: So, how long?

Aka: How long? I thought you would never ask, quite long actually. You would be very impressed.

Mini: Mr. Lol, please keep your mind out the rubbish heap. There would be children reading this interview you know. Men are all the same, aren’t they?

Aka is amused that Mini is not. Her hem is unmoved, and Aka silently curses the man who invented friction.

Mini: Please stay focused on the questions. What caused you to start bloging here?

Aka: Bloging, what a turn on. Anyway, I was encouraged by a very talented writer and fellow blogger. I don’t want to call her name in public but I just want to publicly say Tunks; I mean thanks.

Aka shows juvenile signs of frustration as Mini’s hem seems to be caught in rush hour traffic. Aka now casually glances at Mini’s helpful top, but for some reason his mind goes blank, except for two things.

Mini: Why do you think I am interviewing you?

Aka: Because you tried the rest and want now the best?

Mini: Very funny! Do you think your readers will find this interview weird?

Aka: I think readers would be very disappointed there was so much friction during this interview, and no, they won’t find it weird.

Mini: How can you be sure of that?

Aka: I am still alive, aren’t I?

Mini: What’s your greatest turn on in a woman?

Aka: When the hemline on her mini skirt rises just a touch.

Mini: And your greatest turn off?

Aka: When it drops.

With that answer Mini restores her hemline to its original position, flicks her head back, thanks Aka for the interview, and canters down the walkway. In another version of this ending she simply tanks Aka.

His Complete Unpublished Works


Aka Lol – His Complete Unpublishable Works

If You Are What You Eat Then Why Am I Not Human

Tree Reasons I gave Up Woodcutting

Parliament and Other Sources of Natural Gas

An Intelligent Politician – The Oxymoronic Years

Matchsticks, The Real Eye-opener


Blogers Note:

The rumor that all Aka’s works were rejected by publishers who publish authors with even the slightest hint of talent is true.


Blogers Further Note:

I can’t believe you actually thought I had something more to say on this topic 🙂

A Metaphoric Blog?


Aka was convinced that everything, which was said and done in one’s life was seen as metaphoric and, or symbolic by others. Both Metaphoric and symbolic are words which practically mean the same thing, but by using both synonyms simultaneously creates an air of intelligence. The problem with metaphors is they are prone to misinterpretation by the observer.

One example of a misunderstood metaphor, which springs to Aka’s mind, had to do with the handless analogue wristwatch that Xo had given Aka. He immediately thought it was symbolic of their relationship, that is, useless, helpless, and just an interesting conversation piece. Xo also thought it was symbolic of their relationship; she thought of it as timeless. Well, Aka did think of it as timeless sometimes, in much the same way being bent over in a Turkish prison feels timeless. When Aka had given Xo a pressure cooker for her apartment, Xo thought it meant Aka was thinking of her as being submissive and subservient to him. All Aka thought was if she was going to give him “beans” she might as well cook them properly first. Then there was the incident where Aka accompanied Xo to the auto alignment shop. Xo told the mechanic she was there for an alignment. Mechanics are not normally prone to detecting metaphors, but given her form-fitting attire, wrapped around a near perfect shape, there was much room for ambiguity in the request. Aka had to intervene and realign the conversation in its proper perspective.

by popular request this blog will not to be continued.

note 1: The name Xo is metaphoric, since it reminded Aka of Jean-Marc™ XO Vodka. High-priced, tempting and well crafted, but in the end, taste like any other Vodkas after a couple sips.

The name Aka is symbolic of his chameleonic personality. Also Known As many different things, none of them good, even in a metaphoric sense.