Will Stephen Hawking ever change his voice program?

I started reading Hawking's A Brief History of Time a few weeks back, and as I read the physics of the universe being explained with the wit and easy-handedness of a kindly old professor who truly cares about his work, this was the one over-riding question I had. It's not like Hawking talks about his disease (Lou Gehrig's disease) much at all, but one has to wonder--does he ever get tired of that halting computer voice he's made famous in the last fifteen years or so?

We all like to change our hairstyles, clothing styles, cars and even houses--all in an attempt to change our lives. And yet a man who can explain the universe as articulately as Hawking doesn't want to change his almost archaic (by today's amazing digital standards) voice program? Maybe no one has asked. And, then again, maybe he doesn't want a new voice. Maybe he's content with that speak and spell sing-songy computer translation. Aging professors are notoriously old-fashioned.

The meaning of life is 42.

The first time I read Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, this is about all I really got out of it. I've used the number as a lottery staple (until I began using the easy Quick Pick feature), an inside joke (most people don't view 42 in the same way), and a goal. Maybe if I get to 42, I'll understand a little more about everything in space, on earth and beyond.

This is all a lofty goal, trying to explain the thoughts of an author who really loves to be oblique. Obviously Adams uses this certainly arbitrary number to illustrate the pointlessness of trying to answer the question of the meaning life. We all want to know the answer to this seemingly simple question, but no one really knows. I've come to the belief that we are actually asking the wrong question. And whenever we figure out what that question is, well, we'll be a little bit close to answering something that we probably should just leave alone.

R2-D2 is God.

This is a recent revelation, which is actually more of a clarification than anything else. But the clues to this theory are imbedded in the history and lore of the Star Wars series (including the now year old Episode I).

R2-D2 is present in most of the high risk escapades of our intrepid heroes (whether they be the triangle of Han/Luke/Leia or quadrangle of Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan/Anakin/Amidala) and usually is the reason they get out of these scrapes. Many have naively said that R2-D2 and C3PO together are the narrators (thus the thread) of the entire story, but I think there are some key points this narrator theory misses.

The most important is that C3PO is pretty much useless except that he occasionally interprets R2's electronic rants and various other-worldly conversations. C3PO never remembers anything specific that happens--he moans about all the trouble they've been in, but doesn't remember what actually happened. Mostly he tells R2 to be careful, something the little robot never heads.

R2-D2 however is the conduit. He carries the information about the Death Star in the original Star Wars. He knows how to fix the Millennium Falcon hyper-drive in Empire. He delivers Luke's lightsaber at the Sarlacc pit in Return. And in the new one, he restores power to the Queen's escaping ship--saving the good guys from getting offed at the beginning of the movie (not to mention helping Anakin pilot the Naboo fighter to bring down the main power ship at the end).

R2-D2 holds the entire history of the universe in what C3PO callously calls R2's "rusty innards." The little droid tools around emitting unintelligible electronic gibberish that no one can understand (save C3PO and Luke while he's in a fighter), saves everyone from death and destruction and routinely gets blown up, shocked, eaten, expelled into a swamp and generally knocked around the entire series. But he survives with his memory intact. R2-D2 is the never-blinking eye of God (patterned after HAL 9000 of 2001)--and occasionally he intervenes.

Kenny on South Park is R2-D2.

The South Park guys are Star Wars fanatics as well. They mix bits of Star Wars trivia and even direct dialogue into most of their shows (and the movie as well). They were the first to creatively attack Jar Jar with an entire show last summer. And, considering the kind of character Kenny is, they see R2-D2 as Jesus (part of God, but not the Big God). Kenny, as many of you know, never has clear dialogue (his voice is muffled by hood on his coat which is always pulled tight) and gets killed every episode (except one). The actor who plays R2-D2 is Kenny Baker--and the South Park guys are never against being direct.

Because of the whole dying to save the gang all the time thing, I can see where the South Park guys think R2 is merely Jesus. But I wish to postulate one caveat into this theory: R2 never tries to teach. He's a crotchety old fellow who keeps most of his thoughts to himself, does what he has to do and lets everyone blunder into the stupid situations of their lives without much direct interaction.

Which leads me back to that question about Stephen Hawking, another character who must rely on outside sources to interpret his own inner thoughts. Why doesn't he consider another voice program? Maybe he could get a synthesized Walter Cronkite for regular conversation--and sample Bebe Neuwirth for those special nights he's connected to the naughty rooms on the Internet. Sometimes small steps can change your life.

Matt Worley still believes the meaning of life can be fully explained in a comprehensive theory built on the principles of 20th (and now 21st) Century entertainment.