The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is, as has been remarked before often and accurately, a pretty startling kind of a thing. It is, essentially, as the title implies, a guide book. The problem is, or rather one of the problems, for there are many, a sizeable portion of which are continually clogging up the civil, commercial and criminal courts in all areas of the Galaxy, and especially, where possible, the more corrupt ones, this. The previous sentence makes sense. That is not the problem. This is: Change. Read it through again and you’ll get it. The Galaxy is a rapidly changing place. There is, frankly, so much of it, every bit of which is continually on the move, continually changing. A bit of a nightmare, you might think, for a scrupulous and conscientious editor diligently striving to keep this massively detailed and complex electronic tome abreast of all the changing circumstances and conditions that the Galaxy throws up every minute of every hour of every day, and you would be wrong. Where you would be wrong would be in failing to realize that the editor, like all the editors of the Guide has ever had, has no real grasp of the meanings of the words “scrupulous”, “conscientious” or “diligent”, and tends to get his nightmares through a straw. Entries tend to get updated or not across the Sub-Etha Net according to if they read good. Take for example, the case of Brequinda on the Foth of Avalars, famed in myth, legend and stultifyingly dull tri-d mini-serieses as home of the magnificent and magical Fuolornis Fire Dragon. In Ancient days, when Fragilis sang and Saxaquine of the Quenelux held sway, when the air was sweet and the nights fragrant, but everyone somehow managed to be, or so they claimed, though how on earth they could have thought that anyone was even remotely likely to believe such a preposterous claim what with all the sweet air and fragrant nights and whatnot is anyone’s guess, virgins, it was not possible to heave a brick on Brequinda in the Foth of Avalars without hitting at least half a dozen Fuolornis Fire Dragons. Whether you would want to do that is another matter. Not that Fire Dragons weren’t an essentially peace-loving species, because they were. They adored it to bits, and this wholesale adoring of things to bits was often in itself the problem: one so often hurts the one one loves, especially if one is a Fuolornis Fire Dragon with breath like a rocket booster and teeth like a park fence. Another problem was that once they were in the mood they often went on to hurt quite a lot of the ones that other people loved as well. Add to all that the relatively small number of madmen who actually went around the place heaving bricks, and you end up with a lot of people on Brequinda in the Foth of Avalars getting seriously hurt by dragons. But did they mind? They did not. Were they heard to bemoan their fate? No. The Fuolornis Fire Dragons were revered throughout the lands of Brequinda in the Foth of valors for their savage beauty, their noble ways and their habit of biting people who didn’t revere them. Why was this? The answer was simple. Sex. There is, for some unfathomed reason, something almost unbearably sexy about having huge fire-breathing magical dragons flying low about the sky on moonlit nights which were already dangerously on the sweet and fragrant side. Why this should be so, the romance-besotted people of Brequinda in the Foth of Avalars could not have told you, and would not have stopped to discuss the matter once the effect was up and going, for no sooner would a flock of half a dozen silk-winged leather-bodied Fuolornis Fire Dragons heave into sight across the evening horizon than half the people of Brequinda are scurrying off into the woods with the other half, there to spend a busy breathless night together and emerge with the first rays of dawn all smiling and happy and still claiming, rather endearingly, to be virgins, if rather flushed and sticky virgins. Pheromones, some researchers said. Something sonic, others claimed. The place was always stiff with researchers trying to get to the bottom of it all and taking a very long time about it. Not surprisingly, the Guide’s graphically enticing description of the general state of affairs on this planet has proved to be astonishingly popular amongst hitch-hikers who allow themselves to be guided by it, and so it has simply never been taken out, and it is therefore left to latter-day travellers to find out for themselves that today’s modern Brequinda in the City State of Avalars is now little more than concrete, strip joints and Dragon Burger Bars. 《銀河系漫遊指南》，正如先前頻繁而準確的評論所說的，是一種相當令人驚奇的東西。它，本質上，正如標題所暗示的，是本指南。問題，或者說問題之一（因爲那些問題中相當大的一部分不停地塞滿了銀河系全部區域的民事、經濟、刑事法庭，而且在可能的情況下，特別是腐敗的法庭）是，這個。 上一句話有意義。這不是問題所在。 這個問題是： 變化。 再把它讀一遍你就明白了。 銀河系是一個瞬息萬變的地方。說實在的，那裏有太多太多的東西，每一部分都在不停地運動，不停地變化。你可能以爲，對於一個謹慎盡責的編輯而言，努力讓這個龐雜詳細的電子書與整個銀河系每日每時每分所吐出的所有的變化的情境和狀態保持一致，簡直是個噩夢。你這就錯了，你沒有意識到那個編輯，就跟所有的《指南》的編輯一樣，從來就沒有真正理解“謹慎”、“盡責”或“努力”的意義，而他們的噩夢一般是從一根吸管裏吸進去的。 而條目是否能從亞以泰網得到更新則一般取決於讀起來是否好聽。 打個比方，阿瓦拉斯之福斯的布里昆達的條目是，以高貴神祕的弗洛尼斯火龍的家鄉而著稱於神話，傳說，以及愚蠢無聊的三維電視短劇中。 在遠古時代，當弗萊格力斯還在吟唱，昆尼路科斯的薩克森昆統治着一切，當空氣是香甜的而夜晚充滿芬芳的時候，但所有人不知怎的竟然設法都保持了（或者只是他們這麼宣稱的，雖然天知道他們怎麼會覺得有人真的能相信哪怕是一點點這種胡扯，當然這只是猜想罷了），處子之身，當你在布里昆達上丟塊板磚的時候想不傷到至少半打弗洛尼斯火龍根本就是不可能的。 不過你到底想不想丟那板磚就是另一碼事了。 不是說火龍本質上不是一個愛好和平的物種，因爲它們的確是這樣的物種。它們從骨子裏喜愛這個和平，而這種批發的喜愛則經常造成一個根本問題：一個人經常會傷害他所愛的人，特別是那個“人”是隻呼吸像火箭推進器而牙齒像公園柵欄的弗洛尼斯火龍。另一個問題在於，一旦它們正好在興頭上，它們經常會傷害很多其他人也愛着的人。如果再算上一小撮真的走來走去扔板磚的瘋子，你會發現阿瓦拉斯之福斯的布里昆達上有相當多的人被火龍傷得很嚴重了。 但是他們會介意麼？當然不會。 可曾聽到過他們抱怨命運的哀嘆？沒有。 在這片英勇之福斯的布里昆達的土地上，弗洛尼斯火龍因它們野性的美、因它們高貴的行爲、因他們喜歡咬不尊敬它們的傢伙的習性而得到了廣泛的尊敬。 這是爲什麼呢？ 答案很簡單。 性。 出於某種未知的原因，當月耀的夜空下低掠過一隻噴吐火焰氣息的神祕巨龍，加上甜香芬芳的危險空氣，此情此景實在是性感得無可救藥。 爲什麼會出現這種狀況，浪漫透頂的阿瓦拉斯之福斯的布里昆達人民是不會告訴你的，而且一旦那個勁兒上來了也不會停下來去嘮嗑這事兒，因爲只要一羣綢質翅膀皮質軀體的弗洛尼斯火龍劃破夜空，一半的布里昆達人就會帶着另外一半人竄進樹林，在那裏共度過一個忙碌喘息的夜晚，當第一縷晨光射向大地，他們全都微笑，開心，而且依然可愛地宣稱自己仍然是處子之身，雖然這是些臉頰緋紅身上黏糊糊的處男處女。 信息素的緣故，一些研究者說。 某種聲波，其他人聲稱。 這個地方總是擠滿了想把一切搞明白的研究者而且他們總是要耗很長很長的時間。 毫不意外，《指南》所描繪的有關這顆星球基本狀況的誘人圖景，被事實證明，在搭便車者中驚人的受歡迎，他們都受到這個的指引，所以這個條目從未被撤下，於是當代的旅行者最後發現如今的阿瓦拉斯城邦的現代化布里昆達只是一堆混凝土、脫衣舞，還有火龍漢堡店。
