this is if only [dot] org

the making of it

(to explain the last entry:)

“. . . in the darkness of the alley, a green flickering glow was bathing Ford Prefect’s face, and his eyes were slowly widening in astonishment.

“For where he had expected to find nothing, an erased, closed-off entry, there was instead a continuous stream of data – text, diagrams, figures and images, moving descriptions of surf on Australian beaches, Yoghurt on Greek islands, restaurants to avoid in Los Angeles, currency deals to avoid in Istanbul, weather to avoid in London, bars to go everywhere. Pages and pages of it. It was all there, everything he had written.”

— from So Long, And Thanks For All The Fish