Spock's Beard.

Dr. McCoy:  Jim, I think I liked him with a beard better. It gave him character. Of course almost any change would be a distinct improvement.  

Mirror, Mirror:  Star Trek, The Original Series

I've mentioned several times that our HR department doesn't seem to be asking enough questions about Star Trek when hiring people, and this fundamental lack of due diligence has reared its ugly head again.

One of my co-workers is optimistically working away at a beard, and it changes his appearance substantially.  I suggested that if he just trimmed it down to a goatee, he would look very much like the evil mirror version of himself.  He frowned at me, and I said, "You know, evil alternate mirror dimension Spock?  With the beard?"  He gave this some consideration and finally said, "Sorry, no, I don't get it."

A sad conversation, but one which clearly illustrates the fleeting nature of pop culture fame. It's interesting to think that there's a point in the future when no one will understand why it's necessary to wave your arms up and down when saying, "Danger, Will Robinson!", when the significance of "No, I am your father!" will be lost, and if you Google™ "Spock's beard", the only results will say, "Los Angeles based band formed in 1992..."

- Sid

"Move along, move along."

And really, how often do you read the phrase "Now that I'm in love with a geek"? *

- Sid

* Not nearly often enough.

"YOU HAVE REACHED THE END OF CAKE."

I was saddened beyond words last Thursday when I heard that 66 year old British fantasy author Sir Terry Pratchett had succumbed to the combination of a chest infection and the rare form of Alzheimer's from which he had suffered for the last eight years.

In the innumerable obituaries and tributes which have followed his death, Pratchett is most often referred to as a satirist, comparable to Jonathan Swift in his trenchant mockery of the everyday world through his fantasy creations.  I realize that satire was part of Pratchett's intention, but to categorize his work purely in that fashion would miss the incredible depth of creativity and perception which characterized his writing.

Terry Pratchett made me stay up late and and get up early in order to read his books.  His imagination was limitless, and his style was simple but eloquent, with every word doing exactly what he wanted it to do, nothing less.

When I think of Pratchett's work, I don't think of satire, I think of the characters.  It is an enormous loss to realize that I will never again read a new story about Sam Vimes of the Watch, Esme Weatherwax the witch, the virtuous Captain Carrot, Nobby Nobbs (whose name may say it all), Rincewind the Wizzard*, Death, Death's granddaughter, or any of the host of other amazing characters who populated Pratchett's novels.  All gone, all ended - or, more accurately, not ended, but left in limbo.

Because of that, somewhere out there a man in a suit** is steepling his fingers together in the fashion of Montgomery Burns and thoughtfully saying, "You know, I bet we could find someone who would take over the Discworld series if we paid them enough money..."

Stop.  Just stop.

Terry Pratchett was a genius, one of those people whose talent was based in a unique perspective, and it would be a heart-breaking betrayal of his legacy for anyone to even attempt to imitate that talent.  If someone does succumb to the lure of lucre, I would strongly recommend that they be thrown into the scorpion pit along with the mimes.

Goodbye, Terry.  Thank you for letting us all see the world the way that you did, and for letting us see the worlds that no one else could have shown us.

- Sid

* This is not a typo, although really, it is. 

** In my world, the villain is always a man in a suit.  Draw what conclusions you wish from this.