No, I haven't yet had the chance to see The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy yet, despite the fact that these books and radio shows, represent a significant influence in the development of my sense of humor throughout my childhood and teen years. I was very disappointed in the television version of the show, not so much because of the cheesy special effects but because it's creators felt the need to literalize too much from the books/radio show. As it stands, I am very eager to see the film because the casting looks brilliant. I know that it will be significantly different from the books/radio show, and I'm looking forward to that. I am probably going to bite the bullet and check it out tonight after I get some schoolwork done.
I know it won't make the movie, but I've always been amused by the runaway success of Oolon Colluphid's trilogy of philosophical blockbusters Where God Went Wrong, Some More of God's Greatest Mistakes and Who is this God Person Anyway?. On a personal level, it was Well That About Wraps It Up for God that had the most amount of personal effect on me, though.
From The Hitchikker's Guide to the Galaxy:
The Babel fish is small, yellow and leechlike, and probably the oddest thing in the Universe. It feeds on brainwave energy received not from its own carrier but from those around it. It absorbs all unconscious mental frequencies from this brainwave energy to nourish itself with. It then excretes into the mind of its carrier a telepathic matrix formed by combining the conscious thought frequencies with nerve signals picked up from the speech centers of the brain which had supplied them. The practical upshot of all this is that if you stich a Babel fish in your ear you can instantly understand anything said to you in any form of language. The speech patterns you actually hear decode the brainwave matrix which had been fed into your mind by your Babel fish.
Now it is such a bizarrely impossible coincidence that anything so mindbogglingly useful could have evolved purely by chance that some thinkers have chosen to see it as a final and clinching proof on the nonexistence of God.
The argument goes something like this: 'I refuse to prove that I exist,' says God, 'for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.'
'But,' says Man, 'the Babel fish proves you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments you don't. QED.'
'Oh dear,' says God, 'I hadn't though of that,' and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic.
'Oh that was easy,' says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next zebra crossing.
Most leading theologians claim that this argument is a load of dingo's kidneys, but that didn't stop Oolon Colluphid making a small fortune when he used it as the central theme of his best-selling book, Well That about Wraps It Up for God.
Now that's humor.