Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.
Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.
Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)
Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero
Friday, August 05, 2005 Shilling for Dollars
A Song About Hell. And a career in marketing.
Monday through Friday, eight to five.
An hour for lunch, if you’re lucky that is.
Don’t count on that hour, or quittin’ time,
Your life’s not yours, now that you’re in the biz.
Soon you will need lots of caffeine to thrive.
Hang in there baby, Friday’s coming,
The microwave is calling, and it’s calling for me.
Capitalism, democracy, marketing,
Sell an image, sell the brand, rhetoric and hyperbole.
I’m shilling for dollars, the American way.
The client called, they have an idea.
Forget your plans, you just missed your bus.
The client is king, they pay your wage, but,
It’s best if they leave the thinking to us...
We have strong concerns about a dancing tortilla.
Hang in there baby, Friday’s coming,
The microwave is calling, and it’s calling for me.
Capitalism, democracy, marketing,
Sell an image, sell the brand, rhetoric and hyperbole.
I’m shilling for dollars, the American way.
College educated, bright, whip smart, they say.
Creative, talented, clever and oh so smart.
You’re the whole package, what more could they want?
Your brain, your life, your soul, for a start,
And once they sap those, they’ll cast you away.
Hang in there baby, Friday’s coming,
The microwave is calling, and it’s calling for me.
Capitalism, democracy, marketing,
Sell an image, sell the brand, rhetoric and hyperbole.
I’m shilling for dollars, the American way.
But the research! The focus groups! The demographs!
Such interesting work, it's never a bore.
Just don't get too creative or different, that's bad.
Sell out, play dumb, now you're a marketing whore.
There’s big money at risk, this isn’t for laughs.
Hang in there baby, Friday’s coming,
The microwave is calling, and it’s calling for me.
Capitalism, democracy, marketing,
Sell an image, sell the brand, rhetoric and hyperbole.
I’m shilling for dollars, the American way.
In this biz there’s no room for your lofty ideals.
Honesty? Integrity? Surely you jest.
The stat group polled legal aged drinkers.
You sell more beer when you show a breast.
And it doesn’t hurt to give away a free set of wheels.
Hang in there baby, Friday’s coming,
The microwave is calling, and it’s calling for me.
Capitalism, democracy, marketing,
Sell an image, sell the brand, rhetoric and hyperbole.
I’m shilling for dollars, the American way.
There are often events and parties to attend.
Lots of free booze and networking chances.
Get drunk, alter reality, talk to a guy who knows someone.
Do what it takes to get your resumé second glances.
Change jobs or companies but it's all the same in the end.
Hang in there baby, Friday’s coming,
The microwave is calling, and it’s calling for me.
Capitalism, democracy, marketing,
Sell an image, sell the brand, rhetoric and hyperbole.
I’m shilling for dollars, the American way.
