strange headache
Banned
Warning, here be musings... or rambling, whichever you prefer really.
I'm sure that for most people Douglas Adams doesn't need an introduction. He is mostly known for writing the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and his humor. The reason why he resonates so well with people is because his stories embrace the absurdity of life with open arms. To me, Adams is much more than just a funny writer, he's a genuine philosopher. Despite his seemingly nonsensical writing style, his stories touch on some fundamental questions about the human condition.
When it comes to literature, I prefer the quality over quantity approach. That's why I have the habit of rereading certain works of literature just to see how much my views have evolved in order to find out if I can extract any new meaning from it. When i read the Hitchhiker again, a certain passage stuck with me much more than it usually does. The reason being that it exemplifies why I think that Douglas Adams is the greatest philosopher who wasn't even a philosopher. Allow me to present to you my findings.
I'm sorry if this is going to be a lengthy topic, but it requires reading of the passages in question otherwise my analysis won't make much sense to you. For your convenience I've quoted the passages in question below, so let's get going.
It's easy to miss, but in this passage Adams describes his view on philosophy. Yes, we all know that philosophy is the study of existential questions such as the meaning of existence. But Adams' most important point lies in his joke, which comes across as a silly question at first glance: Why do we spend so much time wearing digital watches?
It may sound like an absurd question, but another important part of philosophy is questioning normalcy, i.e. those things and habits in life that we take for granted without even thinking much about it. Philosophers come across ass odd, because they do exactly that, pondering about the aspects of life to which we've grown accustomed to, so much so that we don't even question them anymore. Everyday life forces us humans to simply accept things as they are, but it is doubting those habits that can make us independent human beings in the first place.
The hyper-intelligent beings don't waste their time with banal aspects of everyday life, they go straight for the big question. That's why they decide to build the smartest computer in the universe in order to 'brute force' the problem. So they decide to wait seven and a half million years for their answer because even the smartest computer ever needs time to tackle such a monumental riddle.
But herein lies a fundamental problem: Can we really calculate the meaning of existence? The reason why it seems absurd to task a computer with such a question is because the meaning of life isn't an empirical truth and neither is it a logical one which can be put into an equation. No, it's a metaphysical problem which can neither be quantified nor be accessed through purely empirical means.
If a deterministic machine could simply calculate the answer, by logical consequence, we would be nothing more than determined machines ourselves. I'm not dismissing that possibility, as we could be nothing more than matter that is determined by causality. But humans are capable of something that machines can't, to be absurd. A machine must be at all times consistent with its own internal programming while humans, as emotional beings, can entertain contradictory thoughts. Should AI ever become a things, I'd be rather interested how programmers of this world would solve that problem while being limited to a purely logics based programming language.
After pondering for seven and a half million years, the computer is finally ready to give its answer. The machine is wise to warn its audience that the answer may not be to their liking. Imagine waiting for such a long time, the hype and expectations must be through the roof. It happened to No Man's Sky, Spore, Watchdogs, Duke Nukem Forever and Daikatana and it will certainly happen to the meaning of life too.
When it comes to the meaning of life, maybe our expectations are just way too high. We would expect from such an answer a moment of catharsis, a fundamental understanding of reality itself. In other words, we'd expect the veil of uncertainty to be removed from our little minds. The moment where suddenly everything just makes a frikkin' sense!
But what if the answer to the meaning of life can't do that? What if we've already discovered the answer, but are so underwhelmed by it that we can't even be arsed to acknowledge it? What if our only meaning is to survive, to reproduce and to die? What if the answer simply is 42, nothing more and nothing less? Maybe Douglas Adams is right, we should just accept the absurdity of life and take 42 as granted, because nothing would really be able to stand up to the hype anyway.
Maybe the meaning of life is an insolvable problem simply because we don't really understand the question. Douglas Adams views philosophers as people who formulate questions which, by their very own nature, cannot be answered. This of course poses the problem if such questions even have an inherent value in the first place. The computer posits that its creators don't even know themselves what they are asking for.
I think that Douglas Adams wants to convey that it is not the answer that's important, but the search for it. To philosophize means to be on the way without ever reaching the goal. It doesn't mean that our first step is pointless though. We can savor the road itself, the different places we'll see and experiences we make. A tree never stops to grow but that doesn't mean that it isn't a tree. Maybe it is good that we won't find an answer, because we might risk stop growing.
The meaning of life is an unsolvable question because it is composed of words that we don't even fully understand ourselves yet. What is the essence of 'meaning' and what is 'life'? Truth is, we simply don't know because otherwise we wouldn't have these troubles solving the question.
One could say that once we truly understand the question, we really don't need the answer anymore because it will flow naturally from the formulation of the problem. The meaning of life is a paradox: We need the answer in order to properly formulate the question and we need the question in order to have the answer.
Before hitting the ground and making friends with a bow of petunias, let me just say that Douglas Adams is more than just a funny writer. Once you truly engage with his books, there's just so much food for thought that you cannot but consider Adams a true philosopher. By highlighting the absurdity that is human life, Adams gains valuable insight into what it truly means to be human. Certainly, reason and logic are important aspects of our lives, but they may be insufficient to truly grasp what it means to be a human being.
I'd say what defines us are not necessarily the things that we do understand, but the things we do not. In short, being utterly confused is what being human is all about. So let's keep stumbling so long as as our little speck of dust that we so adorably call Earth is aimlessly hurtling through the vastness of (mostly empty) space.
I'm sure that for most people Douglas Adams doesn't need an introduction. He is mostly known for writing the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and his humor. The reason why he resonates so well with people is because his stories embrace the absurdity of life with open arms. To me, Adams is much more than just a funny writer, he's a genuine philosopher. Despite his seemingly nonsensical writing style, his stories touch on some fundamental questions about the human condition.
When it comes to literature, I prefer the quality over quantity approach. That's why I have the habit of rereading certain works of literature just to see how much my views have evolved in order to find out if I can extract any new meaning from it. When i read the Hitchhiker again, a certain passage stuck with me much more than it usually does. The reason being that it exemplifies why I think that Douglas Adams is the greatest philosopher who wasn't even a philosopher. Allow me to present to you my findings.
I'm sorry if this is going to be a lengthy topic, but it requires reading of the passages in question otherwise my analysis won't make much sense to you. For your convenience I've quoted the passages in question below, so let's get going.
There are of course many problems connected with life, of which some of the most popular are Why are people born? Why do they die? Why do they want to spend so much of the intervening time wearing digital watches?
Many many millions of years ago a race of hyperintelligent pan-dimensional beings (whose physical manifestation in their own pan-dimensional universe is not dissimilar to our own) got so fed up with the constant bickering about the meaning of life which used to interrupt their favourite pastime of Brockian Ultra Cricket (a curious game which involved suddenly hitting people for no readily apparent reason and then running away) that they decided to sit down and solve their problems once and for all.
And to this end they built themselves a stupendous super computer which was so amazingly intelligent that even before the data banks had been connected up it had started from I think therefore I am and got as far as the existence of rice pudding and income tax before anyone managed to turn it off. It was the size of a small city. [...]
It's easy to miss, but in this passage Adams describes his view on philosophy. Yes, we all know that philosophy is the study of existential questions such as the meaning of existence. But Adams' most important point lies in his joke, which comes across as a silly question at first glance: Why do we spend so much time wearing digital watches?
It may sound like an absurd question, but another important part of philosophy is questioning normalcy, i.e. those things and habits in life that we take for granted without even thinking much about it. Philosophers come across ass odd, because they do exactly that, pondering about the aspects of life to which we've grown accustomed to, so much so that we don't even question them anymore. Everyday life forces us humans to simply accept things as they are, but it is doubting those habits that can make us independent human beings in the first place.
On the day of the Great On--‐Turning two soberly dressed programmers with brief cases arrived and were shown discreetly into the office. They were aware that this day they would represent their entire race in its greatest moment, but they conducted themselves calmly and quietly as they seated themselves deferentially before the desk, opened their brief cases and took out their leather--‐bound notebooks. Their names were Lunkwill and Fook.
For a few moments they sat in respectful silence, then, after exchanging a quiet glance with Fook, Lunkwill leaned forward and touched a small black panel. The subtlest of hums indicated that the massive computer was now in total active mode. After a pause it spoke to them in a voice rich resonant and deep. It said: "What is this great task for which I, Deep Thought, the second greatest computer in the Universe of Time and Space have been called into existence?" Lunkwill and Fook glanced at each other in surprise. [...]
"O Deep Thought Computer," he said, "the task we have designed you to perform is this. We want you to tell us..." he paused, "... the Answer!" "The answer?" said Deep Thought. "The answer to what?" "Life!" urged Fook. "The Universe!" said Lunkwill. "Everything!" they said in chorus. Deep Thought paused for a moment's reflection. "Tricky," he said finally. "But can you do it?"
Again, a significant pause. "Yes," said Deep Thought, "I can do it." "There is an answer?" said Fook with breathless excitement." "A simple answer?" added Lunkwill. "Yes," said Deep Thought. "Life, the Universe, and Everything. There is an answer. But," he added, "I'll have to think about it."
Fook glanced impatiently at his watch.
"How long?" he said. "Seven and a half million years," said Deep Thought. Lunkwill and Fook blinked at each other. "Seven and a half million years...!" they cried in chorus. [...]
The hyper-intelligent beings don't waste their time with banal aspects of everyday life, they go straight for the big question. That's why they decide to build the smartest computer in the universe in order to 'brute force' the problem. So they decide to wait seven and a half million years for their answer because even the smartest computer ever needs time to tackle such a monumental riddle.
But herein lies a fundamental problem: Can we really calculate the meaning of existence? The reason why it seems absurd to task a computer with such a question is because the meaning of life isn't an empirical truth and neither is it a logical one which can be put into an equation. No, it's a metaphysical problem which can neither be quantified nor be accessed through purely empirical means.
If a deterministic machine could simply calculate the answer, by logical consequence, we would be nothing more than determined machines ourselves. I'm not dismissing that possibility, as we could be nothing more than matter that is determined by causality. But humans are capable of something that machines can't, to be absurd. A machine must be at all times consistent with its own internal programming while humans, as emotional beings, can entertain contradictory thoughts. Should AI ever become a things, I'd be rather interested how programmers of this world would solve that problem while being limited to a purely logics based programming language.
Seven and a half million years later...
Two severely dressed men sat respectfully before the terminal and waited. "The time is nearly upon us," said one, and Arthur was surprised to see a word suddenly materialize in thin air just by the man's neck. The word was Loonquawl, and it flashed a couple of times and the disappeared again. Before Arthur was able to assimilate this the other man spoke and the word Phouchg appeared by his neck.
"Seventy--‐five thousand generations ago, our ancestors set this program in motion," the second man said, "and in all that time we will be the first to hear the computer speak." "An awesome prospect, Phouchg," agreed the first man, and Arthur suddenly realized that he was watching a recording with subtitles. "We are the ones who will hear," said Phouchg, "the answer to the great question of Life...!" "The Universe...!" said Loonquawl. "And Everything...!"
"Shhh," said Loonquawl with a slight gesture, "I think Deep Thought is preparing to speak!" There was a moment's expectant pause whilst panels slowly came to life on the front of the console. Lights flashed on and off experimentally and settled down into a businesslike pattern. A soft low hum came from the communication channel. "Good morning," said Deep Thought at last. "Er... Good morning, O Deep Thought," said Loonquawl nervously, "do you have... er, that is..." "An answer for you?" interrupted Deep Thought majestically. "Yes. I have."
The two men shivered with expectancy. Their waiting had not been in vain.
"There really is one?" breathed Phouchg. "There really is one," confirmed Deep Thought. "To Everything? To the great Question of Life, the Universe and Everything?" "Yes." Both of the men had been trained for this moment, their lives had been a preparation for it, they had been selected at birth as those who would witness the answer, but even so they found themselves gasping and squirming like excited children. "And you're ready to give it to us?" urged Loonquawl. "I am." "Now?" "Now," said Deep Thought. They both licked their dry lips.
"Though I don't think," added Deep Thought, "that you're going to like it." "Doesn't matter!" said Phouchg. "We must know it! Now!" "Now?" inquired Deep Thought. "Yes! Now..." "Alright," said the computer and settled into silence again. The two men fidgeted. The tension was unbearable.
"You're really not going to like it," observed Deep Thought. "Tell us!" "Alright," said Deep Thought. "The Answer to the Great Question..." "Yes...!" "Of Life, the Universe and Everything..." said Deep Thought. "Yes...!"
"Is..." said Deep Thought, and paused.
"Yes...!"
"Is..."
"Yes...!!!...?"
"Forty--‐two," said Deep Thought, with infinite majesty and calm.
After pondering for seven and a half million years, the computer is finally ready to give its answer. The machine is wise to warn its audience that the answer may not be to their liking. Imagine waiting for such a long time, the hype and expectations must be through the roof. It happened to No Man's Sky, Spore, Watchdogs, Duke Nukem Forever and Daikatana and it will certainly happen to the meaning of life too.
When it comes to the meaning of life, maybe our expectations are just way too high. We would expect from such an answer a moment of catharsis, a fundamental understanding of reality itself. In other words, we'd expect the veil of uncertainty to be removed from our little minds. The moment where suddenly everything just makes a frikkin' sense!
But what if the answer to the meaning of life can't do that? What if we've already discovered the answer, but are so underwhelmed by it that we can't even be arsed to acknowledge it? What if our only meaning is to survive, to reproduce and to die? What if the answer simply is 42, nothing more and nothing less? Maybe Douglas Adams is right, we should just accept the absurdity of life and take 42 as granted, because nothing would really be able to stand up to the hype anyway.
It was a long time before anyone spoke. Out of the corner of his eye Phouchg could see the sea of tense expectant faces down in the square outside. "We're going to get lynched aren't we?" he whispered. "It was a tough assignment," said Deep Thought mildly. "Forty--‐two!" yelled Loonquawl. "Is that all you've got to show for seven and a half million years' work?"
"I checked it very thoroughly," said the computer, "and that quite definitely is the answer. I think the problem, to be quite honest with you, is that you've never actually known what the question is." "But it was the Great Question! The Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe and Everything!" howled Loonquawl. "Yes," said Deep Thought with the air of one who suffers fools gladly, "but what actually is it?"
A slow stupefied silence crept over the men as they stared at the computer and then at each other. "Well, you know, it's just Everything... Everything..." offered Phouchg weakly.
"Exactly!" said Deep Thought. "So once you do know what the question actually is, you'll know what the answer means." "Oh terrific," muttered Phouchg flinging aside his notebook and wiping away a tiny tear. "Look, alright, alright," said Loonquawl, "can you just please tell us the Question?"
"The Ultimate Question?"
"Yes!"
"Of Life, the Universe, and Everything?"
"Yes!"
Deep Thought pondered this for a moment.
"Tricky," he said.
"But can you do it?" cried Loonquawl.
Deep Thought pondered this for another long moment.
Finally: "No," he said firmly.
Both men collapsed on to their chairs in despair.
"But I'll tell you who can," said Deep Thought.
Maybe the meaning of life is an insolvable problem simply because we don't really understand the question. Douglas Adams views philosophers as people who formulate questions which, by their very own nature, cannot be answered. This of course poses the problem if such questions even have an inherent value in the first place. The computer posits that its creators don't even know themselves what they are asking for.
I think that Douglas Adams wants to convey that it is not the answer that's important, but the search for it. To philosophize means to be on the way without ever reaching the goal. It doesn't mean that our first step is pointless though. We can savor the road itself, the different places we'll see and experiences we make. A tree never stops to grow but that doesn't mean that it isn't a tree. Maybe it is good that we won't find an answer, because we might risk stop growing.
The meaning of life is an unsolvable question because it is composed of words that we don't even fully understand ourselves yet. What is the essence of 'meaning' and what is 'life'? Truth is, we simply don't know because otherwise we wouldn't have these troubles solving the question.
One could say that once we truly understand the question, we really don't need the answer anymore because it will flow naturally from the formulation of the problem. The meaning of life is a paradox: We need the answer in order to properly formulate the question and we need the question in order to have the answer.
Before hitting the ground and making friends with a bow of petunias, let me just say that Douglas Adams is more than just a funny writer. Once you truly engage with his books, there's just so much food for thought that you cannot but consider Adams a true philosopher. By highlighting the absurdity that is human life, Adams gains valuable insight into what it truly means to be human. Certainly, reason and logic are important aspects of our lives, but they may be insufficient to truly grasp what it means to be a human being.
I'd say what defines us are not necessarily the things that we do understand, but the things we do not. In short, being utterly confused is what being human is all about. So let's keep stumbling so long as as our little speck of dust that we so adorably call Earth is aimlessly hurtling through the vastness of (mostly empty) space.
Last edited: