Odyssey's End
OPEN: JANUS FILE #0235
"My God, it's full of stars."
I saw that line several times yesterday. All of which, sadly, were in reference to the passing of Sir Arthur C. Clarke. I want to say that the line is from 2001: A Space Odyssey, but I'm not as familiar with Clarke's works as I am other writers', so I could be mistaken.
Learning of his death was one of those things that borders on the bizarre. Clarke died yesterday morning, but I learned about it Tuesday night. No, there was no warping of the time-space continuum involved. Clarke died at his home in Sri Lanka at 1:30 AM, local time. Because of the difference in time zones, it was still early evening in Louisville when Joe Major called me to tell me of the news, which he had just read over the Internet.
I wasn't too surprised to hear of Clarke's death. He was 90, after all. When Joe told me, I think my initial reaction was, "It finally happened."
News of Clarke's death triggered a number of memories for me. I think the first was probably of reading 2001: A Space Odyssey. I had seen the movie first, and it made absolutely no sense to me. When I read the book, though, everything that didn't make sense suddenly made a lot of sense. (The movie still doesn't make sense, though.)
The news also took me back to my first Worldcon (Magicon, 1992). During the Hugo Awards ceremony, the committee set up a satellite video call to Clarke. The auditorium was packed, and everyone sat and watched as Clarke (who was at his home in Sri Lanka) talked with his brother (who was at the convention in Orlando). What was remarkable about this was that Clarke wrote about the concept of communications satellites in geosynchronous orbit years before it became a reality (in 1945), and we were watching a call using that very concept.
Another random thought: How long would it take a modern computer to calculate and print out "The Nine Billion Names Of God"?
And the day before Sir Arthur died, there was one bit of what I can only describe as irony. In the opening of The Big Bang Theory, Leonard, Sheldon, Howard, and Rajeesh have just finished creating an Internet-based remote control system in Leonard and Sheldon's apartment. The first test of the system sends a signal around the world, in part using the communications satellites that Clarke first postulated in 1945. The first command activated the stereo, which began playing Also Sprach Zarathustra. And as the music began playing, the four began jumping around, much in the fashion of the ape-men at the beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey.
As I read some of the obituaries for Clarke, it was nice to see that the newspapers got a few details right. They actually knew that the Nebula Award is presented by the Science Fiction Writers Of America, and that the Hugo Award is presented by the World Science Fiction Convention. (Technically, it's presented at a Worldcon; it's presented by the World Science Fiction Society. Close enough.)
And I think one of the best broadcast stories on Clarke's death was on the CBS overnight newscast. The anchor mentioned that Clarke "now sleeps among the stars."
I couldn't think of a better way to put it myself.
CLOSE: JANUS FILE #0235
OPEN: JANUS FILE #0235A
ADDENDUM
Of course, right after I finished the entry, I remembered one other memory of Sir Arthur C. Clarke. This was from an interview with him that ran in Omni in the mid-1980s. (Sorry, I don't remember the specific issue at the moment.) He talked about taking a tour of the Vatican, and at one point, telling several Polish jokes. Clarke ended that comment by saying that he didn't know whether or not John Paul II chanced to overhear his jokes or not.
Okay, the guy definitely had some stones, just for doing that.
CLOSE: JANUS FILE #0235A
"My God, it's full of stars."
I saw that line several times yesterday. All of which, sadly, were in reference to the passing of Sir Arthur C. Clarke. I want to say that the line is from 2001: A Space Odyssey, but I'm not as familiar with Clarke's works as I am other writers', so I could be mistaken.
Learning of his death was one of those things that borders on the bizarre. Clarke died yesterday morning, but I learned about it Tuesday night. No, there was no warping of the time-space continuum involved. Clarke died at his home in Sri Lanka at 1:30 AM, local time. Because of the difference in time zones, it was still early evening in Louisville when Joe Major called me to tell me of the news, which he had just read over the Internet.
I wasn't too surprised to hear of Clarke's death. He was 90, after all. When Joe told me, I think my initial reaction was, "It finally happened."
News of Clarke's death triggered a number of memories for me. I think the first was probably of reading 2001: A Space Odyssey. I had seen the movie first, and it made absolutely no sense to me. When I read the book, though, everything that didn't make sense suddenly made a lot of sense. (The movie still doesn't make sense, though.)
The news also took me back to my first Worldcon (Magicon, 1992). During the Hugo Awards ceremony, the committee set up a satellite video call to Clarke. The auditorium was packed, and everyone sat and watched as Clarke (who was at his home in Sri Lanka) talked with his brother (who was at the convention in Orlando). What was remarkable about this was that Clarke wrote about the concept of communications satellites in geosynchronous orbit years before it became a reality (in 1945), and we were watching a call using that very concept.
Another random thought: How long would it take a modern computer to calculate and print out "The Nine Billion Names Of God"?
And the day before Sir Arthur died, there was one bit of what I can only describe as irony. In the opening of The Big Bang Theory, Leonard, Sheldon, Howard, and Rajeesh have just finished creating an Internet-based remote control system in Leonard and Sheldon's apartment. The first test of the system sends a signal around the world, in part using the communications satellites that Clarke first postulated in 1945. The first command activated the stereo, which began playing Also Sprach Zarathustra. And as the music began playing, the four began jumping around, much in the fashion of the ape-men at the beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey.
As I read some of the obituaries for Clarke, it was nice to see that the newspapers got a few details right. They actually knew that the Nebula Award is presented by the Science Fiction Writers Of America, and that the Hugo Award is presented by the World Science Fiction Convention. (Technically, it's presented at a Worldcon; it's presented by the World Science Fiction Society. Close enough.)
And I think one of the best broadcast stories on Clarke's death was on the CBS overnight newscast. The anchor mentioned that Clarke "now sleeps among the stars."
I couldn't think of a better way to put it myself.
CLOSE: JANUS FILE #0235
OPEN: JANUS FILE #0235A
ADDENDUM
Of course, right after I finished the entry, I remembered one other memory of Sir Arthur C. Clarke. This was from an interview with him that ran in Omni in the mid-1980s. (Sorry, I don't remember the specific issue at the moment.) He talked about taking a tour of the Vatican, and at one point, telling several Polish jokes. Clarke ended that comment by saying that he didn't know whether or not John Paul II chanced to overhear his jokes or not.
Okay, the guy definitely had some stones, just for doing that.
CLOSE: JANUS FILE #0235A