Twinkle, Twinkle

Legendary science fiction writer and visionary Arthur C. Clarke passed into the timeless inexplicable structure of eternity today on the island nation of Sri Lanka. He was 90 years old and an inspiration and mentor to thousands, including myself.

I was introduced to the imaginative symbolism and dream that was 2001 A Space Odyssey at six years old. A simple afternoon of vanilla wafers and a movie changed my life forever. (The Blue Danube has since never existed as an example of "classical" music in mind) The following day I tugged at my mother's shirt begging her to drive me to the public library so that I could read the novel and attempt to answer the multitude of questions swimming in my mind. The love affair had commenced. (even though the David Bowman in the novel entered the stargate through the oddly smooth surface of Saturn's brethren, Japetus)

Clarke's vast imagination manifested within the dozens of titles I read during my youth, provided me with the structure for asking vital questions and forging ideas about society, metaphysics, religion, the basis of the universe itself. In turn, I was able to gain a valuable perspective about my own existence in the world of reality through the use of metaphors and thought experiments. Today, a collection of his greatest short stories sits beckoning on the bookshelf in my office. Before picking it up I always ask the question, what if?

Clarke's Rama Spacecraft in 3D


His world spanned two world wars, and innovations in every aspect of technology. As the inventor of the communications satellite and countless other devices including the walkman, the contributions he made in the progression of society will never be forgotten. Sadly, Clarke left this earth with a moon still not yet tamed and the shimmer from the stars a constant reminder of the relativistic scale of the universe.

I thank Sir Clarke for the brilliant flashes of colors and the explosions of stark contrasts and irony in my dreams. He empowered me to truly imagine. As Clarke was influenced by science fiction pioneer Olaf Stapledonas a young man, the cycle continues as the three quarter silver moon shines in the obscure year of 2008. It may never be proven that the terribly conflicted Hal was derived from Clarke's manipulation of IBM by simply taking each letter one space back in the alphabet, but the legend of a great story teller will live forever amidst the constant of energy within the universe.

Below are a few questions posed by his novels.

How will the realities of population growth, energy consumption and food production be handled over the next 1,000 years?
Will a space tower comprised entirely of nanotechnology manufactured buckytubes reaching low earth orbit be built?
Will the differences between living conditions and cultural intricacies create friction between Earth and the colonies?
How will lovers separated by the expanse of the solar system escape the inevitability of the failure of real time conversations thanks to Einstein’s speed limit?
Has the ongoing collection by god of data and manipulation of spacefaring species continued since the beginning?
Is god’s whole purpose for the universe to randomly achieve complete praise to its name?
Will the continued evolution in technology eventually reach a point of stagnation for both the tools of humankind and humankind itself?
Have ancient races of beings achieved the complete transformation into pure energy, hence gods?
Will the Chinese space program eventually surpass NASA is both imagination and performance?
How will humanity fare in the wake of a cosmic disaster with the possibility of complete extinction?

Clarke's Last Public Address