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I love how much this unintentionally speaks to the storied closer in pinstripes, and I love how it much frustrate Douglas Adams to have his sneaky ambiguity abused by misguided baseball fans. I'm sure he was sitting back all smug watching the literary world clamor over interpretting this, patently refusing to enlighten anyone. Mystery=value. And then someone probably said, "He's just a big baseball fan, dummies!"

Actually, that book had some pretty good lines, so I should ease up on this picture-painting-of-smugness. But before we get into the game:
 
There's also this "explanation" from the reputable wiki answers reference:

The Ultimate Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything, however, is known to be 42.
How it was computed had to deal with 6 x 9 = 42. Now this does not make sense in the Base 10 number system (our common system). However, when computed in Base 13, the equation actually works out.
613 x 913 = 4213. Now 6 and 9 in Base 13 still are 6 and 9.
However, 42 is represented in groups of 13 instead of groups of 10, as would be found in the Base 10 number system.
So, instead of 4 x 13 = 52, 4 x 13 = 40 (since 13 is translated to 10). 2 x 1 is still 2.
The original equation shows 6 x 9 = 54. Which is (4*13) + (2*1).
Therefore, with the case of Base 13, it would mean (4*10) + (2*1) = 40 + 2 = 42.

I know it does not solve the question of "Why?", but it does solve the question of "How?"


Yeah, this is like in college when I'd get an essay question on some 800 page monster book of which I had read 200 pages, and all I could do was really just write down every single fact and detail I remembered from those 200 pages in the hopes that this would mask the fact every character in Middlemarch was referred to only by pronouns. Sometimes "it," even.

Anyways, thanks, Wiki, for giving us a valuable lesson on base numbers. (This is why I hate math. There's a Base 10 number system and a Base 13 number system? If I had known this in school, I would have started justifying every incorrect answer with this. "No, no. Yeah, it's wrong in our COMMON system. But this is..Base 42."

Back to 42. As I predicted, I was confused with all the 42s running around. This could be because I just finished watching the game about a half hour ago (6:12am). The taping of the game thing actually worked tonight, in the sense that the bar I was at didn't have a tv. It had victorian molding and big Ruben-esque paintings of fleshly women. But no tv.

I watched the game like it was live, and now it's over and there are so many 42s whipping around in my head. It was like that scene in Sister Act when the bad guys were chasing after Whoopi Goldberg but there were so many nuns in the casino that they didn't know which was the Whoopi nun.

Allllll the players had 42 on. 27 people in game. Watching McCarthy throw that many pitches to so many 42s was legitimately making me delirious.

Robinson Cano, named after the original 42, whose number 24 is to honor, was the star of the game with the 3-run bomb in the 4th to answer the 2-run lead the Dbacks staked in the 3rd. I will say that Cano was about half a second away (ok, 0.42 seconds away) from crossing into "Locking Up a High and In Fast Ball Next Time He Sees McCarthy" territory.

Which is to say..well, you know. Pause. Like, a real pause.

And then our #42 came in to get one two three #42s out in a row to get the save.

Nunez hit a sac fly to make the final score 4-2.

All in all, a pretty tidy game for our weirdo team, despite the unfamiliarity of the whole interleague play.

(It's POSSIBLE that all these things I keep putting on par with Sodoku, Raisinettes, Kreb Cycle, and these in terms of things I can't wrap my head around...are actually not that mindtwisting as I'm making them out to be. I should be able to handle seeing a couple dozen 42s, in an AL/NL matchup. No, I'm sorry, I'm still not there yet. I need the numbers otherwise I have no idea who these strange Yankees are.)

Nova wasn't super nova. But the pen did the job. Even Joba mustachioed his way out of the inning without giving up a hit. Which meant he didn't give up 6 runs either. Good show, I say.

Speaking of good, that is what tonight's match-up will be. Well, no future tense. It is. It is already good. Tubbo v Miley. 100% sounds like a brightly-colored-critters-from-space type of cartoon. Or maybe the final two contestants in a appeals-to-the-people-who-arent-here-to-make-friends kind of reality show.

I don't care. Miley is going to Rowny by game's end. Yes. That happened.

Also happening is thunder and lightening, both of which I love so, so much. So long as it stops by 7:05. But if it doesn't stop by 7:05, I don't want a YES network guy to relay the bad news. I want it to be some lifeguard who blows a whistle and yells, "OK EVERYBODY OUT OF THE POOL NOW!"

Tempore facere donuts. A calicem tea dedisset restituturum normalitatis mea.

Or this. Which I did not do in my head or on paper, but rather on a math translation site.

01010100011010010110110101
10010100100000011101000110111
10010000001101101011000010110
10110110010100100000011101000
11010000110010100100000011001
00011011110110111001110101011
101000111001100101110

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