About 30 years ago I read the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. I fell in love with the book for its absurdity and for its messages about how the universe works and our random but potentially essential individual roles within it. I recall thinking how funny it would be to turn 42 and be the same age as the significant number that the whole series contemplates as the answer to life, the universe, and everything. That age seemed eons away. But today I have reached it. In the book everyone is baffled when the most sophisticated computer in the universe spits this number out as the ultimate answer. They conclude that if 42 is the answer to life, the universe, and everything, they actually need to figure out what the question is. To try and compute the question, they design an even more sophisticated computer, the planet earth. As an inhabitant of this planet, now fully ensconced in my wisest age yet, this core narrative that drives the series seems more poignan