Monday, December 29, 2008
Both Arthur C. Clarke and Forrest J Ackerman died in 2008. I thought they'd live forever. They imagined a 21st century I'm nostalgic for to this day. The one were we all get jet-packs, subsist on nutrient tablets, and spend sparkling Solar Credits instead of moist crumpled dollars. But dreaming of the future is like wishing for all the ice cream you can eat: Eventually you get it, and it makes you sick. It's almost 2009, the future has been and gone, and it seems I will never address the Supreme Council of the United Earth in fluent Esperanto.