This entry’s a bit on the long side, but if you’ll bear with it, I promise you it’ll be worth your time.

If you haven’t read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, you’re probably wondering, “What on earth is a ‘Babel Fish?’” And you’d be wrong, because the Babel Fish is nothing on earth.

The Babel Fish is a fictional species dreamed up by Douglas Adams, author of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. In the book, characters who stuck this little fish in their ears could understand anything said in any language in the universe. Whereas in the real world, if you stick a little fish in your ear, you’ll probably have to go to the doctor to get it removed, and people will rightly laugh at you for being so stupid.

Altavista.com calls its translation feature “Babel Fish Translation” because it purportedly serves a function similar to that of the fictional fish, without requiring you to stick anything in your ear. Users may enter up to 150 words of text, and then select the language in which the text was written, and the language to which they’d like the text to be translated.

I decided to conduct a little experiment using the “Babel Fish Translation” feature. The results have led me to conclude that the Babel Fish powering this feature either has a screw loose, or is trying to destroy humanity by derailing any attempts at understanding between the people of the various nations on earth.

For my experiment, I entered into the translator an excerpt from my very first blog entry:

After a while, though, I needed a short break and decided to entertain myself by doing a Google search for a woman I with whom I hadn’t spoken in a decade. She had been my friend, but I wanted more from our relationship and was rejected. She, like me, was both a writer and an artist, and for all that I resented her rejection at the time I had always envied her talents. On this day, however, I was sure I was the better writer and wanted to find something she had written so I could sneer at it. I knew she had continued writing and illustrating over the years. I had heard she had written at least one novel, although I didn’t find it in my Web search. Well, how good could it be if I couldn’t find mention of it anywhere on the World Wide Web, eh? In fact, I couldn’t find much about anything she’d written.

Instead, I found her obituary. She had died of breast cancer in August of 2005.

Prior to reading her obituary, if someone had asked me about her I would’ve said she was no one, really. Someone I knew when I was younger. Just a blip on my radar screen.

If that were true, then why did I feel a sledgehammer blow to the gut when I stumbled on her obituary? Why did I sit in front of my computer screen in stunned silence for several minutes? The answer, of course, was simple: for better or worse she was far more to me than a “blip.” I just hadn’t admitted it to myself in a very long time.

I then translated the above excerpt into German, and then back to English again. Here’s the end result:

After one while although, I needed a short break and decided to converse by doing a Google search for a Mrs. I with, whom had I not in a decade spoken. She had been my friend, but I wished more of our relationship and was rejected. She, as I, was an author and an artist, and for all that I took its refusal badly at the time, I had always envied its talents. On this day however I was sure that I was the better author and wanted something to find, which had written her thus I at him scoff could. I knew that she had continued the letter and the illustration over the years. I had heard that she had written at least one novel, although I did not find him in my net search. Well as well it, if its I could not receive mention of it on the World Wide Web nowhere, could how? Actually I could not find much over nothing, which was written her.

Instead I found its ring-back signal. It had died at the cancer of the breast in the August of 2005.

Before measured value their ring-back signal said, if someone had asked me after it over for I would’ve that she was not real. I knew someone, when I was younger. A straight document mark on my radar display screen.

If that it were applicable then why I believed a Sledgehammer to burn through to the intestine when I on its ring-back signal stolperte? Why did I sit before my screen in betaeubter peace for some minutes? The answer was naturally simple: for better or worse it was far more to me than a “document mark.” I straight did not have it to me in a very long time certified.

It’s hard to know where to begin.

Going from English to German to English again apparently caused a great deal of gender confusion. Was my friend a “she,” a “he,” or a genderless “it?” I used to think I knew the answer to that question.

And her (assuming my friend was a female, an assertion the Germans are apparently disputing) obituary produced a “ring-back signal,” which is damn scary. I didn’t think you could talk to anyone in the afterlife on a telephone. I wonder if my mobile plan allows me to use any of my free minutes communicating with the deceased.

Also, the image of a “sledgehammer blow to the gut” seems to lose some of its emotional impact when it becomes “a sledgehammer to burn through to the intestine.” The latter metaphor sounds less like being hit by grief and more like being hit by Montezuma’s Revenge.

Finally, I’ve decided not to try to find out what “stolperte” and “betaeubter” mean. It’s more amusing to let my imagination run wild. It’s like Mad Libs; I can decide that “stolperte” means “farted” and “betaeubter” means “Martha Stewart branded toilet paper” and then giggle like a five-year-old. Because if you have the mind of a five-year-old, “farted” and “toilet paper” are side-splittingly funny. Now that I think of it, so is “Martha Stewart.”

But wait, it gets better. I then took the butchered text resulting from the English-German-English translation, and translated it to Portuguese and then back to English again. The result:

After one when even so, I needed a short rupture and he decided me to talk making a search of Google for Mrs.. I with, who had I not in one decade said. He had been my friend, but I desired our relationship more than and was rejected, as I, he was an author and an artist, and for whom I badly made examination of its refusal in that time, I envied always its talents. On this day however I certain age that I age the author best and wanted something to find, that scoff had written it I in it thus could. I knew that I had continued the letter and the illustration on the years. I had heard that he had written to the little one novel, even so I did not find it in my liquid search. Well also, if its I could not receive mention from it in the World Wide Web in no part, I could as? I could not really find very on nothing, that was written it.

Instead I found its signal of Ring-back. He had died in cancer of the chest in the August of 2005.

Before the measured value its signal of Ring-back it said, if somebody after asked for it to me on would’ve of I that was not real. I knew somebody, when I new age. One mark of original straight line in my screen of exposition of the radar.

If this it will be applicable then because I believed to sledgehammer completely to be burnt to intestine when I in its stolperte of the Ring-back signal? Why I sat down before my screen in the peace of betaeubter per certain minutes? The reply he was of course simple: for better or worse he was distant more me of whom of “one he marks original.” Not mea straight I had in a long stay very certifyd.

Why, yes, I often find myself needing a “short rupture” to clear my head. Don’t we all?

I could go on and on, but I suspect that for many of you the entertainment value would fade faster than it would for me.