How Real Aliens Killed Sci-Fi For Me

A tale of waking up from geek dreams to geek reality

The day the ship came from the other world, Fox was bringing in the last of the fall harvest. He tossed a handful of ripe squash into one of the woven baskets that stood at intervals around his field, then stood up, cracked his back, and surveyed his work. Plenty of veggies for winter.

A young man tore through the village, breaking the silence with excited shouts. He was screaming what sounded like nonsense — some kind of gigantic craft had materialized off the coast. It had enormous white wings, and many mouths from which smoke poured. The elders were down by the shore now, debating whether to go out for a closer look.

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Here There Be Dianogas

Even in Star Wars, we need dark places on the map.

One particular moment in the original Star Wars trilogy has always connected with me more than all others.

It’s that moment in the first act of A New Hope when Luke walks out behind his aunt’s and uncle’s farmhouse and watches the twin suns setting over the desert. That haunting minor-key theme swells in the background, and you see Luke as you won’t ever see him again: as a regular dude just like you and me, looking off into the infinite without the slightest real idea of what’s out there, thinking: “Bring me that horizon.”

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