A Death In the Family

Otherwhere Gazette

Recently there has been a fight raging in SF. (Sarah stands back and lets the understatement sink in.) Okay, what I mean is that one of the facets of the permanent, rolling SF/F fandom/writers/whatever fight has revolved around Star Trek.

Like all family fights that got ugly fast.

Some say we love Star Trek for the engineering, and then Gerrold said it was for the progressive social morals. And then…

You don’t want the details, do you? All family fights are weird and confusing, and it all devolves to “I know what you did at your first communion/bar mitzvah” flung at the face of someone past fifty. And it’s all irrelevant when death strikes, when disaster threatens or when outsiders attack.

First, let me say I started by not paying much attention to Star Trek. By the time it played in Portugal, I was already a science fiction fan, baptized…

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My first…

…I am afraid I am not sure what to call the phenomenon.  I think I shall leave it to the reader to decide what “this” is; but I have learned thence that a rabbit hole only becomes deeper if one tries to remove it by digging.  I did not generally think the comment box was the best place for a such as this, but It would have been just fine if I had realised a bit earlier and not encouraged all this:

The general advice here keeping with the above analogy is:

Do not feed the rabbits; they will only dig faster.

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I have taken to linking sonnets from throughout the site…

…on these two companion blogs. Both “Reflections” and “Sonnet Blog” will now contain these, particularly when there are no posts for the day. At times, I will no doubt be lazy and simply reblog them, at others I will include formatted versions. Most the the latter will occur, I should think.

Sonnet I: Warriors

Have the Gods of the Copybook Headings,
Tall… by you wretched deceivers controlled;
By the Knights of the Copybook spreading,
All… of the truths of your lies will be told.

They have burned all the books you have written;
When… all your books were rewritten with lies;
They’ve uncovered the books you have hidden,
Then… they have ripped from your face its disguise.

They have cast you to fall from the towers,
How… they, you ‘surpers, they’ve torn from their thrones.
Though you’ve cast your aspersions by hours,
Now… you’ll be lucky to pick though the bones.

Not a gauntlet was raised nor contrasting
Frown… for they did it by lifting us high.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

Intro 1: The Knights of the Copybook Headings

To Rudyard Kipling:
I have seen what thou hast seen;
And praise its return!

Hath breathed, for thee, new breath.
Through electricity.

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