Rest in peace, Arthur C. Clarke

There were two major authors that completely consumed by brain from about the ages of 10 to 14 - Ray Bradbury and Arthur C. Clarke. Ray Bradbury showed me that there was something beautiful, scary, and poetic in almost everything around me, while Clarke taught me about potential.

Almost everything that guy wrote was about how we could achieve anything we wanted as a species as long as we just rolled up our sleeves and got to work. Nothing happens to any character in a Clarke novel if they just sit on their hands. His heroes are always people who think big, question everything, and look ahead. Unfortunately, it is our inability as a race to live up to Clarke's vision that I am so disappointed in the world right now. I feel that we're asking all the wrong questions, setting all the wrong goals, and simply not applying ourselves. We could be achieving greatness, but instead we're fighting over whose god is better than the other.

In spite of this, I refuse to give up hope. It is because of people like Arthur C. Clarke that I cling to one last shred of optimism. He never gave up on us, so I guess I can't either.