Farewell to a man of vision
One of the first “real” (meaning hardcover) books I received as child involved a multi-national group of astronauts, stuck on an asteroid while they mined for thorium. One of them was a Filipino. Just words, when you are seven years old, but a fine introduction to the world of science fiction. The world which we grow into, much like a pair of pants that are bought on sale by a parent, waiting for the inevitable; that we would grow into them. I’ve read hundreds of title since then. Only one has inspired iconic images.
Sometime in my undergrad days, friends managed to “borrow” a 16mm print of a film, and we held a private showing in the Duffy Amphitheatre late one evening. The title, with a wondeful soundtrack that I still listen to from time to time was 2001: A Space Odyssey. The screenplay, and the book that inspired it, were written by a member of the Holy Trinity of SF, Arthur C. Clarke (the others were Asimov and Heinlein). An author of more than one hundred books, the man would eventually adopt a computer that was also iconic: the Kaypro. Important trivia, if you must know.
Today the news carries the story of his death at the age of ninety, in a hospital in Colombo, Sri Lanka. I could probably find a photo of the building by using Google Maps, and it would be due in part to his vision; he foresaw communications satellites.
Let’s return to the movie, and we’ll ask one of the character to paraphrase things for us:
Arthur C. Clarke: Hello, HAL do you read me, HAL?
HAL: Affirmative, Arthur, I read you.
Arthur C. Clarke: Open the pod bay doors, HAL.
HAL: I’m sorry Arthur, I’m afraid I can’t do that.
Arthur C. Clarke: What’s the problem?
I think we all know the answer to that question. Nothing is eternal, Arthur, except that your ideas will stand, monolithic.
