Mostly Harmless

I first read The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy the autumn after I turned twelve. At the time, a story that took me across the universe and back was something that I needed to get me away from everyday life, and it wasn't until I re-read the books years later that I processed the satire behind them. Ever since, just like Ford and his towel, I've kept Douglas Adams' tomes near me in case of panic. It's a pleasure to be ploughing through them again, and getting used to the mundane stupidity of the cosmos.

After all, every hoopy frood needs a blast from the Total Perspective Vortex every now and then.