Indistinguishable from Magic
Arthur C. Clarke, scientist, futurist, author, has died at his home in Sri Lanka at the age of 90.

Writing about his influence on my life is difficult, as difficult, perhaps, as writing about the influence of the English language itself, so ingrained is his writing into my past reading. It is impossible to say where or when I first picked up a Clarke novel or story, or indeed what that work might have been. There is even a sense of doubt that the stories I recall are really his, that they are not some ancient tales remembered more in the blood than the mind, so essential they feel, almost archetypal. Sometimes one might even judge half of all modern science fiction works to be elaborations and deviations of ideas Clarke had penned decades earlier. But this is hardly a wonder considering the startling fact that this man had been writing for longer than most of us have been alive.

While his death was not unexpected, it still weighs heavy. There may come a time when he, his works, and their influence will be forgotten, but that is one future that is truly unimaginable.

Sir Arthur C. Clarke CBE (16 December 1917 – 19 March 2008)