Sunday, January 25, 2009

So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish

Douglas Adams
Friend! croaked the robot pathetically. The word died away in a kind of dry crackle and flakes of rust fell out of his mouth. You'll have to excuse me while I try and remember what that word means. My memory banks are not what they were, you know, and any word which falls into disuse for a few zillion years has to get shifted down into auxiliary memory backup. Ah, here it comes.
The robot's battered head snapped up a bit as if in thought.
Hmmm, he said, what a curious concept.
He thought a little longer.
No, he said at last, don't think I ever came across one of those. Sorry, can't help you there.

Well, it's not the sort of thing you're trained for, is it? I searched my soul, and discovered that there was nothing anywhere in my upbringing, experience, or even primal instincts to tell me how to react to someone who has quite simply, calmly, sitting right there in front of me, stolen one of my biscuits
Likewise.

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