The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, the movie, opens tonight at midnight in my mostly harmless corner of the universe.

Martin makes an appearance in the Douglas Adams corpus (specifically in The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul) as a partner in a firm.

    'Well, this name here is Dennis Hutch, isn't it? See?'
    'Oh yes. Yes, I do,' said Dirk, examining it for himself. 'Er, should I know that name?'
    'Well,' said Kate slowly, 'it depends if you're alive or not, I suppose. He's the head of the Aries Rising Record Group. Less famous than the Pope, I grant you, but - you know of the Pope I take it?'
    'Yes, yes,' said Dirk impatiently, 'white-haired chap.'
    'That's him. He seems to be about the only person of note this envelope hasn't been addressed to at some time. Here's Stan Dubcek, the head of Dubcek, Danton, Heidegger, Draycott. I know they handle the ARRGH! account.'
    'The...?'
    'ARRGH! Aries Rising Record Group Holdings. Getting that account made the agency's fortunes.'

It's rather sad these days that most "comedians" are really puerile political hacks, because the dearly departed Douglas reminds me of a time when humorists were really funny, blogs were really fanzines, and small brown furry creatures from Alpha Centauri were really small brown furry creatures from Alpha Centauri.  ¶ 6:12 AM