A man, not a character, is gone; but a man who gave us thoughtful entertainment–the silly with the serious–without becoming a buffoon or giving scandal.  A very human alien; a human who relieved our alienation, at least a little.

A funny man, too.

John Fund, on the passing of Leonard Nimoy:

Shortly after Star Trek: The Motion Picture premiered in 1979, I decided to go back to college, but the experience had changed my life. At one of the last conventions I did, Leonard Nimoy remarked to me on how he had observed my growth from the first time we had met: “You seem to enjoy turning plans into reality, and that is the essence of becoming an adult.”

His comment meant a lot to me, and he was right. I had been handed responsibility at a young age and succeeded with it. I was no longer shy, I had developed some self-confidence and social skills. I had learned to interact with adults and gained their respect.

And I had helped build support for the goal of reviving a series that had entertained and inspired millions and that didn’t deserve to die. Neither did Leonard Nimoy, a gracious and good man, but he accepted the inevitable. His final tweet last week was incredibly poignant:

A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP

(source: Star Trek Loses Its Muse, Spock)

And Kevin Williamson, whose attraction to the character I definitely echo:

But there was something else to Spock, one that spoke to seven- or eight-year-old me (Star Trek was in syndication by that point) the way I am sure it did to many others. Half human and half Vulcan, the young Spock made a conscious decision to retreat from sentimental human entanglements into logic. When another character tries to get under his skin, he observes: “I have no ego to bruise.” In a chaotic and threatening world, to be able to set aside, even if imperfectly, the aspect of one’s self that is vulnerable to the chaos is an alluring prospect: There is no threat if there is nothing there to be threatened. Twenty years later, I’d discover that this was the juvenile (a word that in this context is not pejorative) version of Stoicism, which makes substantially the same promises as Spock’s kolinahr discipline (possibly the nerdiest clause I have ever written), offering the same state of resolute tranquility that is, for the more than half-human, equally elusive. It is science fiction — and it is camp — but there is something in that that leaves me still convinced that a more Spockian approach to life would be eminently desirable, that water becomes transparent only when it is clean and still.

(source: Live Long and Prosper)

And I certainly cannot possibly resist being one of the many who think of this video immediately:

Though in fact, “Amazing Grace” may not be the obvious choice–though it is pretty certainly the American choice.

No, actually, I think that if you were to watch this clip until you get to the part about the Vulcan salute…

…that you might come to agree with me that a good response would be to share this meditation (albeit not from Nimoy’s version of Fiddler):

Memento mori.

Do you, friends, live long and prosper.  And then some.