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Missing Spock Already

March 26, 2021

Today would have been Leonard Nimoy’s 90th birthday.



Leonard Nimoy has been part of my entire remembered life – as he has been part of the entire remembered life of most people.

I cannot remember a time when he wasn’t part of my affectionate imagination. I can’t remember a time when his face and his voice didn’t make me smile inwardly. Nimoy himself somehow managed to combine intellectual pretension with a kind of sublime innocence. His artistic aspirations managed to be amusingly pompous and touchingly naive at the same times. There were times when you felt that he was disasappointed that he hadn’t managed to become Allen Ginsberg or Leonard Cohen.  The sort of terrain he sought to claim was the kind of place where a rhythmic strain of Jewish mysticism meets a scenic inflection of Buddhist sublimity.

What he wouldn’t do, is insult trekkies. What he couldn’t do, is sneer in the faces of those who loved…

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