Life, the Universe, and Communication (H2G2 D.A.R.E Review part 3)

         Hello and welcome back to the Reader in Yellow, the only reading blog that just can't get enough of throwing shade at a district superintendent I doubt anyone will remember if we get to the 2030s. I am your host, Ay Ay "Progressively More Insane" Ron Hilomen, and if you haven't already guessed, this is another part of the ongoing H2G2 review 4-parter. Today's going to be a little different, with me relaying a personal experience to you alongside the usual yammering about the novel. If you guessed that this post was about me relating and reflecting from Douglas Adams's masterpiece, then congrats, you don't only get a cookie, but you also get the probably billions of analytics programs and trojans google is running on your computer right now! (This is why you use Adblock, kids!) Now to avoid my mandatory defenestration courtesy of the SuperIntendent you all know and love, we shall without further ado get to the review portion.

I literally had no idea what to add as an image because I hate talking about myself. So here's the ultimate answer.

            Communication (or lack thereof), in my opinion, has always been both an important theme and a running gag in HitchHiker's Guide. From Arthur Dent constantly failing to properly communicate his feelings to the rest of the cast, to Ford Prefect seeing nothing wrong with Earth being labelled as simply "Mostly Harmless", the lack of communication skills the main cast possessed was always something I found relatable when re-reading the novel. 

        See, when I was a young lad, instead of eating four dozen eggs (this was, coincidentally, something I was NOT doing to such an extent that I have actually developed an irrational fear of consuming eggs in their natural and consumable forms. Do not ask why.), or being taken to the city to see a marching band, I was busy being unable to express literally anything without using fifty extra words more than required. I will admit, this problem has persisted to this day. Oftentimes I would say something and get met with a completely unexpected response, causing me to go into a sort of Windows XP error prompt emotion.       

         During elementary, this manifested in me having very little friends and using words I did not know the definition of (mainly swear words) to express desires I could not find the word for, resulting in humorous and embarrassing incidents such as finding myself yelling an unsavory word meaning reproduction in the middle of a lecture on the importance of woman's suffrage, I believe (I do not remember the specifics, nor do I want to). Around this same time was when I had actually first discovered the novel, and thus was able to find the "Mostly Harmless" and "Forty-Two" lines within quite humorous, while at the same time basically forcing myself to kick that habit.

        In later years, this would result in me speaking paragraphes to express simple things. This lead to situations where I would be called upon to answer a question about mathematics, only to respond with a scatterbrained, off-topic, and disorganized college thesis on how while treaded mecha are superior to legged mecha in many ways, the advantages of hovering giant robotic vehicles have yet to be fully explored, and the like. Obviously I found solace in the novel once again, as humorously overcomplicated explanations were not only a staple within it, but also provided me with an opportunity to laugh at myself while laughing at something that was probably never meant to be seen in this light.

I hate talking about myself and have no idea what images to add, so here's a cloud shaped like a fish.

         In summary, there are many parallels between my own problems with communication (which, coincidentally, might be associated with the fact that I only learnt I was diagnosed with Aspergers 2 years ago. Makes the "You never asked"-type humor found throughout the book hit differently) and the intricate way that the novel communicates its humor, which ironically causes me to have a greater appreciation for the novel as a whole. I guess that'll be all for today, I've no links today, and our friend Mr. Funk will revoke my lung privileges should I continue further. 

His eyes stare into your soul. The face of mercy, this is not.