To anyone familiar with the work of Douglas Adams — and, judging by the sales for his book “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” there are at least 15 million readers who are — this kind of gibberish is a jolly good read. Twenty years after he penned the first book of the “Hitchhiker” trilogy, which envisions intergalactic travel and the meaning of life as the number 42, his bizarre science-fiction worlds are still selling strong.

But Adams has expanded far beyond books, and in his most recent incarnation he is at the helm of a modest multimedia empire called the Digital Village. And the above monologue is not from a book, but a conversation held with Nobby the LiftBot, one of the seven characters populating Adams’ new game, “Starship Titanic.”

An imposingly British 6-foot-5, Adams in person is decidedly more sober than his books, and prone to rumination about the future of the digital world. As he recently detailed his vision over tomato consommi: “We are moving towards a position in which all ways we communicate and inform and entertain ourselves are coming down a digital pipe. The Digital Village wants to be in that pipe — content providers, creators and publishers. We’re also happy to drive it by being in other media as well — television or movies or whatever.”

Or as the Digital Village Web site touts its future plans: “Bigger than Texas, better than Birmingham, more interactive than a friend’s skin.”

“Starship Titanic” is the first project to come out of that pipe. The CD-ROM, released in mid-April, comes from the school of post-”Myst” immersive environment mystery games. The premise: The Starship Titanic is the world’s most luxurious intergalactic cruiser — “the ship that cannot possibly go wrong.” Of course, everything does go wrong (sound familiar?), and your task as an unwitting guest on board is to find out what happened and fix it.

What makes this game different from your average “Myst” clone, however, is a purely Adams touch: The Art Deco interior of the doomed cruiser is populated with dysfunctional bots like Nobby — who can talk to you for hours using a proprietary language recognition system that the Digital Village affectionately named “SpookiTalk.” You can hear their voices on the game’s soundtrack and also read and respond on-screen via your “Personal Electronic Thing” — or “PET.”

Explains Adams, “When I was doing the ‘Hitchhiker’ game [a text-based game he produced in 1984], I enjoyed that kind of engagement that comes from being in a virtual conversation between player and machine. Then, when someone showed me ‘Myst,’ I thought, ‘Well, this is terrific. This is a beautiful realization of a world.’ But with graphics games, after a while you feel like something’s missing. What’s missing is precisely what text adventure games excelled at — that real sense of being locked in a conversation with the software.”

“With ‘Starship Titanic,’ I thought, ‘Let’s put characters in here and turn that language technology to being able to converse with a character.’”

To create those characters, Adams and two co-authors wrote 10,000 lines of dialogue, or the equivalent of 16 hours of conversation. Although the bots can reveal clues to the mystery if properly queried, they can also simply ramble for hours in semi-lucid conversation. While Nobby the Liftbot speaks in Kiplingesque prose, other bots spit out surfer slang or the mellifluous tones of a British butler.

The result is like stepping into one of Adams’ novels and having a spontaneous conversation with the characters. The process of producing the game, explains Adams, was in fact just like writing a book: “You’ve got a character in mind, and you say, ‘Well, this little thing he would say would be this, and the way he would react to the situation would be this.’ You make lots and lots of those kinds of notes, and then you have to construct in the novel the situations that are going to illustrate the way they behave.” In the “Starship Titanic” game, however, it’s the player who constructs those situations, and the notes themselves that become the text.

While Adams envisions surreal scenarios, the three dozen employees of the Digital Village have been set up as a kind of cross-media support group. Besides the initial “Starship Titanic” game, the Digital Village has produced a book by the same name, written by Monty Python’s Terry Jones. A movie based on the “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” is due to be released in the summer of 2000; the Digital Village will likely produce a video game to be released concurrently. At least one TV show is in the works — a sci-fi drama called “Avatar Forest” — and of course, yet more books and radio work. Besides the “Starship Titanic” Web site, which is currently an extension of the CD-ROM, the Digital Village will also be producing online games, retail products, “global events and soft furnishings,” as its Web site puts it.

Grandiose plans for the business of a man who is essentially a novelist. But for his role in the company, Adams describes himself more as a cross-media evangelist.

“Essentially, we want to be able to have our own constituency and customers online, and the way you find them is by doing stuff in the outside world. So I do stuff in the outside world, and the Digital Village provides me with the infrastructure for doing that — something that you don’t normally have as a novelist. Suddenly if I want to do a CD-ROM, if I want to do a TV show, if I want to do a movie, I have the whole infrastructure of people I regularly know, work with and like. It gives me a power base, and I can drive traffic into what we do on the Web.”

As an example of that role, he describes a series he did last year for BBC Radio. To support a five-part reading from a nonfiction book about his journeys around the world as a zoologist, the Digital Village posted a small Web site with related material. An hour after the radio announcer read off the address, the site already had 20,000 hits.

To Adams, “That was significant. Just out of nowhere, from a few little radio broadcasts, you’re getting those kinds of numbers. That massively points the way at how different media can exploit and support each other.”

Boiled down, the Digital Village is essentially trying to do cross-media branding: a buzzword batted around by many money-hungry multimedia companies that, like the Digital Village, figure the profits and reach of traditional media can support the elusive business plans of new media.

Adams has had haphazard success with the idea so far: “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” has already morphed from its original radio program into a book, a TV series, a game and a movie. His future plans, he says, will tie these kinds of products together more closely.

Says Adams, “Moving something from one medium to another is very interesting — it’s a lot like carrying a picture or a piece of clothing from one bit of lighting to another. Suddenly it looks very different. What interests me a bit further down the line is the way in which the different media interrelate — you can hand things off from one to another, you can exploit each other’s strengths and weaknesses.”

For a content producer, the main pitfall with propagating an idea across multiple media is that the content won’t fit the new platform: The linearity of a book won’t work in an interactive game, and vice versa. Instead, Adam says, content producers should think of cross-referencing media as a way of driving down into the layers of a good narrative.

Adams points to his own experiences with television as an example of how this could work. Considered somewhat of a Web pundit in England, he’s often called upon to talk on news programs about related issues. “You talk for about two minutes about a large, interesting subject — it’s absurd that it is so brief and short, but there isn’t time to do anything more. Meanwhile, in
other layers, TV has huge amounts of time it’s desperately trying to fill.”

“There must be some way of trying to solve this problem,” Adams hypothesizes. “If you go with a hypertextual model of television, you instantly see how you could follow any piece of information to any depth a viewer happened to be interested in. The integration of Web and TV will be a medium that allows that to happen.”

As for the ubiquitous “Hitchhiker’s Guide,” he sees its next manifestation as the ultimate cross-media product:
Re-creating the fictional Guide to the Galaxy as an actual live service that would dispense personal advice across multiple platforms (the Web, your Palm Pilot, your television) using an artificial-intelligence engine. Certainly, it’s an ambitious scenario. Then again, Adams has never had a problem coming up with ideas that are — pardon the pun — Titanic.

That, says marketing researcher Donna Hoffman, is a big mistake. Together with her research partner Thomas Novak, Hoffman has released the first comprehensive study that looks at the numbers of American whites and blacks who use the Internet — and tries to understand the “digital divide.”

The study, which will appear in Science Magazine, is the latest research to emerge from Hoffman and Novak’s Project 2000 center at Vanderbilt University. For four years, they have examined market segments on the Internet — including race and gender — in hope of mapping the demographics of the online population and understanding how the numbers could influence the long-term commercialization of the Web.

Using the results of a Nielsen Internet Demographic Study, which surveyed 5,813 Americans in December 1996 and January 1997, Hoffman and Novak extrapolated the numbers of African-Americans online and determined the roles of income and education in that presence. The results, says Hoffman in an interview with Salon, were both encouraging and alarming.

What did you find in your studies, and why is it significant?

We have been able to provide very solid evidence of a digital divide on the Internet. Some of the findings are rather obvious — whites are more likely to have a computer at home, whites are more likely to use the Web and whites are more likely to have used the Web much more recently. There’s really nothing surprising there. On the other hand, we’ve been able to document the extent of the gap and where the gap is more severe.

The other things we’ve found are some rather surprising, and to some extent shocking, differences that actually suggest the gap is much worse in a more insidious way. That particularly has to do with students.

White students are more than twice as likely as black students to have a computer at home, and that difference does not go away when you take income into account. That is really interesting because it suggests that African-American families are making different choices — even at the same level of income, they are not buying PCs.

You can’t say that this is because African-Americans don’t want access, because we also looked at that and found that, in fact, African-Americans are actually more likely to want to get online than whites are. So it’s absolutely not a question of aspirations or interest, because in fact African-Americans are more interested. Something else is operating here.

The other thing we found, which is even more disturbing, is what happens with students who don’t have a PC at home. The good news is if you’re a student and you have a PC at home, there’s no difference between whites and African-Americans in terms of Web use. Having that computer in the house is a wonderful equalizer. But take that PC away and then look at what happens and it’s shocking: There you find that when there’s not a computer in the home, whites are five times more likely to find another way to use the Web at some nontraditional access point — like a cybercafe, community center, a library, a friend or a relative’s house — than an African-American student is.

What was your immediate reaction to these results?

It suggests that we need to start looking at the status of technology in our cities and our communities, because it’s turning out to be very important to have these nontraditional points of access [in locations where African-Americans are more likely to use them]. These have to be provided, and they have to be provided equally if we want to ensure equal participation for everyone in society — not just educated, well-to-do, high-income professionals. Everyone needs to have an option here.

I think one of the key policy recommendations is that we need to get access into the home. Because the other thing our research shows is that Internet use goes up astronomically, especially more frequent use, when you have access at home. We know that one of the key answers is going to be to make computers really, really cheap, and to make Net access really cheap and accessible, so we can get these access points into the hands of everyone.

What kind of impact do you think non-computer-based approaches to Net access, like WebTV, might have in African-American communities?

I think they offer great potential. Our data also show that African-Americans show more interest in acquiring Net access in that manner — via some kind of set-top box on the TV set, or through an Internet-TV proposition — than do whites. We can speculate that this is because it’s cheaper. So I think that the role of set-top boxes, and other innovations along those lines, should be aggressively pursued.

One anomaly in your research was that African-Americans are actually more likely than whites to have access to the Web at work. Could you explain that?

African-Americans that are above the median income of $40,000 are actually more likely to have access to a computer at work than are their white counterparts. We looked into that and found that if you are in that demographic, you are more likely to be well-educated, younger and in a computer professional job. Which, of course, puts you in a position to be using a computer at work.

What that is suggesting is that there’s a bias operating here that’s restricting Internet use to a very narrow segment of African-Americans. It looks as if African-Americans need to get higher levels of education in order to achieve the same income as whites — that’s discrimination. And then they are going to jobs that tend to be tech jobs.

You mentioned in an
earlier paper on the subject that the medium’s discourse has been shaped by the “dominant culture” of affluent white males. Do you think this has created a cultural bias in the technology itself that is discouraging African-Americans from getting online?

I don’t know if it’s a cultural bias against African-Americans — but I think you can make the argument that there’s a cultural bias in favor of those who developed the technology. So from that perspective, the bias is against those who don’t speak English, against those who are not educated, high-income professional white males. If we look at the Internet as a global phenomenon, there are many groups who are potentially going to be left at the door.

But I think increasingly that’s changing: For example, the number of women online is now 50 percent. The gender gap has disappeared, for all intents and purposes.

In fact, there is good news in our study: There are now over 5 million African-Americans online. That’s 10 percent of all people who have ever used the Web, and African-Americans are 12 percent of the U.S. population, so they are represented in proportion to their numbers in the population.

What do you see as the role of race-specific content — African-American sites like NetNoir or MSBET — on whether this demographic gets on, and stays on, the Web?

I like to look at it from this angle: Our research now gives very solid evidence that there is a very significant segment of people online who need to be targeted. There are many more African-Americans online than people thought, and it makes good sense to target content directly at them.

There’s no question that a key factor in keeping people online is that they have a compelling experience. Obviously, if content is not there, they’re not going to stay online. But hopefully this sort of research will spur these developments — when ad agencies, advertisers, content providers can look at this study and say, “That’s a good chunk, we need to start looking at this in a broader sense.”

We need a study of the differences between the ways black and white students use the Web. That could get to issues of content, and why it is that whites are finding nontraditional access points, and blacks are not, when they don’t have a computer at home.

This data was gathered last year — do you think the past year has made any significant difference in these numbers?

There are many more people online. In fact, we’re just getting ready to analyze the latest CommerceNet/Neilsen data from this January, so I’ll know more about what’s changed in a few months.

As we move forward, what kinds of policies do you think could reduce the gap between the technology haves and have-nots?

In addition to offering better educational opportunities for African-Americans, which needs to come from the government, one of the things we’d like to see is the market get involved in trying to provide computers, to start to adopt a policy perspective. Get computer manufacturers — the hardware and the software and the access providers — to say, “What can we do to stimulate the development of the Internet?” It makes good business sense, because if you put a computer with Net access in everyone’s home, they will use it. Our research shows that they will use it, and they will use it more than other people, and that’s good for business.

We have a situation where business aims can be consistent with greater social aims. So I’d like to see if business will step up to the plate.

What are you envisioning when, at the end of your study, you write, “If a significant segment of our society is denied equal access to the Internet, U.S. firms will lack the technological skills needed to remain competitive”?

If we’re only training some people to have the appropriate skills to participate in the work force in this country, we’re not going to be competitive. We’re not going to have the full range of talents that are potentially available across the population. We’re even seeing this right now — we have Silicon Valley firms clamoring to relax immigration policies and saying, “We don’t have enough engineers.”

We have plenty of people in this country — we just have to train them.

What do you see as a worst-case scenario, if we continue to ignore this “digital divide”?

We’re in danger of leaving large segments of society behind. This is bad, because it’s not just about being unable to access the latest entertainment news from E! Online. Increasingly, as electronic commerce becomes more important to the global economy, business and institutions are putting information that is critical to their constituents online. And if only a certain segment of society is able to access that, we’re going to have a bigger divide than we’ve ever had.

Do we want riots in the cities because only some people can get online to the information they need? That’s terrible. [Such inequality] will have very negative consequences on society.

Of course the biggest loss is to democratic communication. It’s a joke to say that the Internet levels the playing field, but it only levels the playing field for people who can get online. What kind of democracy is that?

Editors at both club zines and mainstream music mags like Rolling Stone insist KBA is a front for Camel, which, they say, is the real force behind the magazine. “It’s underhanded and sneaky,” says Raymond Roker, publisher of the 7-year-old dance magazine Urb. “The lines are blurry and journalists can’t figure it out.”

Officially, Sweater is a joint start-up venture from KBA Marketing and Raygun Publishing — quite simply, KBA owns, prints, distributes and markets the magazine, and Raygun provides the content. Described by one Rolling Stone editor as “Urb magazine with Barely Legal’s cover strategy,” Sweater has been contrived by Raygun’s editors with “we’re so cool we don’t even try” content (extending to the pointedly abstract title) complete with self-aggrandizing writers and “Kids” and “Trees Lounge” star Chloe Sevigny licking her lips on the cover. But although the editors may attempt indie attitude, this is no typical bare-bones start-up: 300,000 copies are currently being distributed for free in 28 cities across America.

Flip through the pages and it’s obvious what spawned the KBA-Camel conspiracy theory. Not only does Camel own the back page and an inside-cover ad spread, but a magazine survey queries readers, “Do you smoke? How many smokers are there in your household?” and the Club Notes feature hypes Camel promotional events: “Look for the annual bartenders’ ball brought to you by the fine folks at Camel … extravagant affairs … exclusive, industry-only events.”

KBA (whose clients also include Cuervo and Coors) denies that Camel has any direct connection to Sweater. “R.J. Reynolds is not involved in Sweater,” says Steve Trimble, general manager on the KBA side, who grouses that the magazine is being demonized. “R.J. Reynolds is a client of KBA. They are not involved in content of the magazine. We promote a lot of different things with our magazine … it’s just like any other magazine does with their advertisers. You’d be hard pressed to find any more favoritism towards advertisers than you would in Wired.”

Whether or not R.J. Reynolds actually has its hands in the cookie jar, KBA undoubtedly decided to launch a magazine because it knew its clients were eyeing a hot new demographic: hip, hard-drinkin’, hard-smokin’ clubbers. Clubs and bars are the last frontier for smokers, the only place left where smokers are welcomed, or at least tolerated. Not surprisingly, the dancing demographic has recently become immensely interesting to cigarette and alcohol manufacturers.

If Camel is directly or indirectly backing the magazine, it’s a logical step. With those nasty new restrictions on tobacco advertising, the post-Joe Camel R.J. Reynolds is having to dramatically change its ad campaign approach anyway. If there’s no outlet for reaching your target market, why not create one yourself — albeit under the safety net of a guilt-free third party?

Camel certainly wouldn’t be the first to try this. The last year has seen a surge in cigarette- and alcohol-backed, club-oriented publications. City newsweeklies are laden with special advertising inserts from Lucky Strike and Camel in the guise of local night life guides. Details last year ran an eight-page club guide-cum-advertorial backed by a handful of alcohol companies. And that doesn’t even include the in-club promotions by Winston, Camel, Lucky Strike and a thousand alcohol brands.

In an even closer example, earlier this year Brown & Williamson (parent company of Lucky Strike) launched a Web site called Circuit Breaker that intermingled San Francisco club and event listings with a questionnaire that asked if readers smoked — all of this with absolutely no mention of Lucky Strike or Brown & Williamson. Instead, the site was credited to Flair Communications, Brown & Williamson’s marketing firm; and although the site quietly promoted events where Lucky Strike would have a “heavy presence,” B&W spokespersons denied that the site was an advertising vehicle for Lucky Strike. No one was dumb enough to believe that, and after succumbing to watchdog-group pressure, the site is now labeled as being produced by a cigarette company.

Though self-righteous editors can be counted on to preach church-and-state with regard to Sweater’s mix of marketing and content, the magazine’s sell-out is not all that different from that of any other glossy. Consider the rapid rise of the advertorial and “shopping guides” in everything from Details and Vogue to the New Yorker. What mainstream publication these days can honestly proclaim that its editorial content is free from the influence of its advertisers?

Moneywise, the KBA-Raygun alliance makes a lot of sense. Magazine publishing is a nasty, expensive business, advertisers are hard to come by and newsstands are a battleground where only the strong survive. If you’re going to launch a new magazine, why not ally with a wealthy marketing firm that not only has big advertisers already in its pocket, but has a 28-city distribution network at its disposal? All you have to do is disregard the fact that its business is to assist fat-cat companies purvey addiction to unsuspecting kids.

As a righteous Trimble puts it, “Alcohol and tobacco companies always have to be looking for a new medium because the moral police are always putting them in the hot seat. If tobacco companies push the boundaries of marketing, they’re the bad guy, and then everyone else follows them.” He adds, “I don’t know if anyone else has the balls to do it the way we do.”