I'm pleased to announce that I'm delving back into Douglas Adams with his second volume in the five-part "trilogy" of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It's a bit to hot to do anything other than lounge around reading, today, so that's exactly what I've been doing. And this in particular tickled my fancy:
The Resutrant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams, 1980.Modern elevators are strange and complex entities. The ancient electric winch and 'maximum capacity persons' jobs bear as much relation to a Sirius Cybernetics Corporation Happy Vertical People Transporter as a packet of mixed nuts does to the entire wing of the Sirian State Mental Hospital.
This is because they operate on the curious principal of 'defocused temporal perception'. In other words, they have the capacity to see dimly into the immediate future, which enables the elevator to be on the right floor to pick you up even before you knew you wanted it, thus eliminating all the tedious chatting, relaxing, and making friends that people were previously forced to do whilst waiting for elevators.
Not unnaturally, many elevators imbued with intelligence and precognition became terribly frustrated with the mindless business of going up and down, up and down, experimented briefly with the notion of going sideways, as a sort of existential protest, demanded participation in the decision-making process and finally took to squatting in basements sulking.
An impoverished hitchhiker visiting any planets in the Sirius star system these days can pick up easy money working as a counsellor for neurotic elevators.
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