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The Anvil
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« on: June 06, 2012, 09:21:09 AM » |
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If there was one author I could have gotten to know personally it would have been him. I know it's inevitable and he wasn't young, but I'm very bummed right now.  http://www.cnn.com/2012/06/06/showbiz/ray-bradbury-obit/index.html?hpt=hp_c1 |
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Boxer rebellion, the Holy Child. They all pay their rent.
But none together can testify to the rhythm of a road well bent.
Saddles and zip codes, passports and gates, the Jones' keep.
In August the water is trickling, in April it's furious deep.
1997 Valk Standard, Red and White.
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Michael K (Az.)
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Posts: 2471
"You have to admire a healthy tomatillo!"
Glendale, AZ
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« Reply #1 on: June 06, 2012, 09:40:36 AM » |
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Yep! I sure devoured my share of Bradbury back inna day!!
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"I'd never join a club that would have me as a member!" G.Marx  |
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Oss
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Posts: 12887
The lower Hudson Valley
Ossining NY Chapter Rep VRCCDS0141
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« Reply #2 on: June 06, 2012, 09:48:41 AM » |
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Between Bradbury, Heinlein and Asimov I was pretty busy reading during HS
some very good stuff came out of his mind
RIP
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If you don't know where your going any road will take you there
George Harrison
When you come to the fork in the road, take it
Yogi Berra (Don't send it to me C.O.D.)
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donaldcc
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« Reply #3 on: June 06, 2012, 10:01:42 AM » |
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Between Bradbury, Heinlein and Asimov I was pretty busy reading during HS
some very good stuff came out of his mind
RIP
I was a BIG fan of them all. RIP |
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Don
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musclehead
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« Reply #4 on: June 06, 2012, 11:04:56 AM » |
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Between Bradbury, Heinlein and Asimov I was pretty busy reading during HS
some very good stuff came out of his mind
RIP
them and Burroughs plus farmer. sad day indeed...... |
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'in the tunnels uptown, the Rats own dream guns him down. the shots echo down them hallways in the night' - the Boss
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The Anvil
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« Reply #5 on: June 06, 2012, 11:14:06 AM » |
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Russell Hoban also passed away last December. He wasn't as prolific as Bradbury but Riddley Walker will always have a place of honor in my book collection.
To me The Martian Chronicles is about as good as it gets in any genre. It transcended sci-fi.
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Boxer rebellion, the Holy Child. They all pay their rent.
But none together can testify to the rhythm of a road well bent.
Saddles and zip codes, passports and gates, the Jones' keep.
In August the water is trickling, in April it's furious deep.
1997 Valk Standard, Red and White.
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~ Timbrwolf
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« Reply #6 on: June 06, 2012, 11:22:15 AM » |
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....I remember first reading...The Illustrated Man..and..The Veldt...in English class back in jr High.....he captured my imagination from the start.. ... " He wrote “Fahrenheit 451″ at the UCLA library, on typewriters that rented for 10 cents a half hour. He said he carried a sack full of dimes to the library and completed the book in nine days, at a cost of $9.80. " ... http://entertainment.time.com/2012/06/06/farenheit-451-author-ray-bradbury-dies-at-91/ |
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. . . ...I saw a werewolf at Trader Vics. . . ...his hair was perfect...
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FloridaValkRyder
Member
Posts: 1677
If your offended , you need a history lesson!!
Apopka, Florida
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« Reply #7 on: June 06, 2012, 12:53:43 PM » |
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Sad indeed. He is probably one of the great authors who inspired me to read great books. I have "The Martian Chronicles" , "The Illustrated Man" and "Something Wicked This Way Comes" in limited edition hardback. The Martian Chronicles is signed by him. Kurt Vonnegut Jr. was another inspirational author for me personally. Who didn't love Slaughter House Five?? May he RIP.
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« Last Edit: June 06, 2012, 03:54:23 PM by FloridaValkRyder »
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I still miss her.
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The Anvil
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« Reply #8 on: June 06, 2012, 08:20:14 PM » |
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January 1999
One minute it was Ohio winter, with doors closed, windows locked, the panes blind with frost, icicles fringing every roof, children skiing on slopes, housewives lumbering like great black bears in their furs along the icy streets.
And then a long wave of warmth crossed the small town. A flooding sea of hot air; it seemed as if someone had left a bakery door open. The heat pulsed among the cottages and bushes and children. The icicles dropped, shattering, to melt. The doors flew open. The windows flew up. The children worked off their wool clothes. The housewives shed their bear disguises. The snow dissolved and showed last summer's ancient green lawns.
Rocket summer. The words passed among the people in the open, airing houses. Rocket summer. The warm desert air changing the frost patterns on the windows, erasing the art work. The skis and sleds suddenly useless. The snow, falling from the cold sky upon the town, turned to a hot rain before it touched the ground.
Rocket summer. People leaned from their dripping porches and watched the reddening sky.
The rocket lay on the launching field, blowing out pink clouds of fire and oven heat. The rocket stood in the cold winter morning, making summer with every breath of its mighty exhausts. The rocket made climates, and summer lay for a brief moment upon the land....
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Boxer rebellion, the Holy Child. They all pay their rent.
But none together can testify to the rhythm of a road well bent.
Saddles and zip codes, passports and gates, the Jones' keep.
In August the water is trickling, in April it's furious deep.
1997 Valk Standard, Red and White.
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FryeVRCCDS0067
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« Reply #9 on: June 06, 2012, 08:58:20 PM » |
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Between Bradbury, Heinlein and Asimov I was pretty busy reading during HS
some very good stuff came out of his mind
RIP
Those are three of my favorites too. Dandelion Wine was probably my favorite from Bradbury but I never read one of his books I didn't like. |
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"Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice. And... moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue.'' -- Barry Goldwater, Acceptance Speech at the Republican Convention; 1964  |
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FloridaValkRyder
Member
Posts: 1677
If your offended , you need a history lesson!!
Apopka, Florida
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« Reply #10 on: June 07, 2012, 06:28:35 AM » |
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January 1999
One minute it was Ohio winter, with doors closed, windows locked, the panes blind with frost, icicles fringing every roof, children skiing on slopes, housewives lumbering like great black bears in their furs along the icy streets.
And then a long wave of warmth crossed the small town. A flooding sea of hot air; it seemed as if someone had left a bakery door open. The heat pulsed among the cottages and bushes and children. The icicles dropped, shattering, to melt. The doors flew open. The windows flew up. The children worked off their wool clothes. The housewives shed their bear disguises. The snow dissolved and showed last summer's ancient green lawns.
Rocket summer. The words passed among the people in the open, airing houses. Rocket summer. The warm desert air changing the frost patterns on the windows, erasing the art work. The skis and sleds suddenly useless. The snow, falling from the cold sky upon the town, turned to a hot rain before it touched the ground.
Rocket summer. People leaned from their dripping porches and watched the reddening sky.
The rocket lay on the launching field, blowing out pink clouds of fire and oven heat. The rocket stood in the cold winter morning, making summer with every breath of its mighty exhausts. The rocket made climates, and summer lay for a brief moment upon the land....
Martian Chronicles, Chapter 1 ....Good Stuff.  |
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I still miss her.
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