the long dark tea time of the soul

my favorite part about Long, Dark Tea-Time so far is that dirk started doing bullshit palm-reading to make ends meet, then found out that his fake babbling about people’s ~fortunes kept coming true so he spent a night standing on his roof yelling “stop it!” at the universe

You don’t look like a private detective.“
"No private detective looks like a private detective. That’s one of the first rules of private detection.”
“But if no private detective looks like a private detective, how does a private detective know what it is he’s supposed not to look like?
—  The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul by Douglas Adams

i guess ms paint still has its uses

So, in The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul just like in American Gods, everything people believe in becomes true, that’s why gods exist and walk among humans.

Theoretically, that means that a human can become a god as well, if enough people believe in it. But how many is enough? Or like, a couple of true believers would do?

Ehhh, would you mind really believing in me being able to live a good life? Or at least make me immortal?..


Kageyama [S1E02 vs. S2E25]

“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.” - Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

Every particle in the Universe,“ continued Dirk, warming to his subject and beginning to stare a bit, "affects every other particle, however faintly or obliquely. Everything interconnects with everything. The beating of a butterfly’s wings in China can affect the course of an Atlantic hurricane. […] Even you, whom I have met entirely by chance, probably know things that are vital to my investigation, if only I knew what to ask you, which I don’t, and if only I could be bothered to, which I can’t.
—  Dirk Gently in The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

In the past the whales had been able to sing to each other across whole oceans, even from one ocean to another because sound travels such huge distances underwater. But now, again because of the way in which sound travels, there is no part of the ocean that is not constantly jangling with the hubbub of ships’ motors, through which it is now virtually impossible for the whales to hear each other’s songs or messages.

So fucking what, is pretty much the way that people tend to view this problem, and understandably so, thought Dirk. After all, who wants to hear a bunch of fat fish, oh all right, mammals, burping at each other?

But for a moment Dirk had a sense of infinite loss and sadness that somewhere amongst the frenzy of information noise that daily rattled the lives of men he thought he might have heard a few notes that denoted the movements of gods.

—  Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul
It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on Earth has ever produced the expression “as pretty as an airport”.

Airports are ugly. Some are very ugly. Some attain a degree of ugliness that can only be the result of a special effort. This ugliness arises because airports ane full of people who are tired, cross, and have just discovered that their luggage has landed in Murmansk (Murmansk airport is the only known exception to this otherwise infallible rule), and architects have on the whole tried to reflect this in their designs.

They have sought to highlight the tiredness and crossness motif with brutal shapes and nerve jangling colours, to make effortless the business of separating the traveller for ever from his or her luggage or loved ones, to confuse the traveller with arrows that appear to point at the windows, distant tie racks, or the current position of Ursa Minor in the night sky, and wherever possible to expose the plumbing on the grounds that it is functional, and conceal the location of the departure gates, presumably on the grounds that they are not.
—  douglas adams - the long dark tea time of the soul