Over the past week I’ve read all five books in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. There’s better literature out there, but they were fun and quotable. I’m sure someone’s done some kind of deep literary analysis talking about the meaningless world/galaxy of the hitchhikers, but I don’t have the firepower to write something like that in the extraneous thought section of the daily poem, sorry. All I have to say is that Fenchurch is still out there.
Also, while the world is framed as meaningless, stupid, etc. The whole plot revolves around there being an ultimate answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything. Sure, the ultimate answer is forty-two, and the ultimate question might be unknowable at the same time as the ultimate answer and/or 13 * 4, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t a meaning, however unknowable to the universe. The world might be incoherent, but it isn’t meaningless.
What’s that mean for Fenchurch? I’m not sure.