One Friday afternoon, sitting in his favorite chair, Ford realizes he is stuck. Not literally, of course. He can rise from the chair and walk about. He can roll to his side. He can hop up and down on the bouncy springs. No. He's stuck. Every Friday afternoon for the last ten months he's sat in this chair and flipped through whatever book happens to sit nearby, ignoring the content completely.
The question, answered in the comments, is what does he do with this realization?
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"Whatever you do, Ford - well... I mean, whatever you did - don't do it again." Ford closed the book and looked at the spine.
"The Slow Death of Humanity. Now there's a book title." He flipped to a random page. "Let's get at the meat here. Yes. Page 193."
He shifted seriously about the chair. "Ahem. 'All life is a struggle between efficiency and creativity.' Really? What if I decide to be efficiently creative? What then, book? Next!"
He flipped backwards through the pagges. "Okay 122 - your turn. 'Composition can vary depending on the author but basically we're looking at the classic slippery slope fallacy here.' Truth, I know ye well. I can still remember sliding down the playground slide on my sweatshirt. I went twice as fast. It was pure physical truth."
Ford tossed the book on the floor. "Which is more than I can say for you, sir."
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