ray bradbury was right: "September. In the last days when things are getting sad for no reason" etc
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Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
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1970 cover art by Richard Clifton-Dey for The Small Assassin, by Ray Bradbury
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"They are coming through the air and traveling along the ground," said Cecy, in her sleeping - Ray Bradbury
Lawrence Sterne Stevens - The Home Coming
(Famous Fantastic Mysteries - December 1952)
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Midnight Pals: Sunsweet Prunes
Ray Bradbury: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the lazy summer of youth
Bradbury: long days down by the river, fishing in miller's pond, afternoons at the soda shop, ice cream sundaes with fabulous unicorn worlds built of whipped cream, nickels for a dime
Bradbury: and becky miller's freckled-face kisses
Bradbury: sweeter than sunsweet prunes
Bradbury: sunsweet prunes, i tell you
Bradbury: the only prune that's sweeter than a nostalgic midwestern childhood
Bradbury: and they come in these little individually wrapped plastic packs too
King:
Poe:
Barker:
Koontz:
Lovecraft:
Bradbury: I just think they're neat
Bradbury: according to my stories, in the far distant future of 2001
Bradbury: we shall travel in tubes
Bradbury: we'll have flying cars
Bradbury: and we'll all be eating our sunsweet prunes out of individually wrapped plastic packs
Poe: wait you never said that in your stories
Bradbury: i wish i had
Bradbury: i would have been 1 for 3 at least
Bradbury: look, they individually wrap these sunsweet prunes in plastic
Bradbury: what a world!
Bradbury: its like living in the not too distant future
Poe: doesn't that create a lot of waste
Bradbury:
Bradbury: tearing open this individually wrapped snack pack reminds me of tearing open presents on christmas morning, snow on the ground, ma and pa taking the day off from working the farm, the whole family arriving in a caravan of automobiles, aunts and uncles and cousins by the dozen, oh my! oh my! uncles a little too loud after three egg nogs, cousins playing cops & robbers in the hay loft
Bradbury: and the feasting, the jollity! too many voices all at once, raised in laughter, in song. the twinkle in dad's eye, the red roses in mom's cheeks, grandpa's baritone chuckle. falling asleep to the sounds of bing crosby on the tombstone radio, surrounded by the warm glow of early evening
King: wow these prunes sound pretty incredible
King: i'm sold!
Koontz: [tearing open sunsweet prune container] guys
Koontz: i think my prunes are broken
Koontz: i didn't feel any of that stuff ray said
Poe: ray are they paying you to advertise for prunes
Bradbury: no no of course not!
Bradbury: i would never accept money to tell you about the incredible health benefits of america's favorite prunes, sunsweet
Bradbury: full of 12 different antioxidents
King: can i buy them with my american express card
Neil Gaiman: but ray!
Gaiman: using the limitless vista of your inpirational mind to advertise a mere consumer good
Gaiman: such a tawdry use of the gift of imagination!
Gaiman: it cheapens us as writers just as the low low prices of chipotle cheapens organic rice and GMO-free beans to bring wholesome healthy Mexican inspired fusion cuisine to the masses
Gaiman: you can't leash the phoenix of creativity to the millstone of commerce!
Gaiman: she must fly free!
Gaiman: free like the secret dragon sauce available now at now extra charge at your local chipotle
King: neil's right!
Poe: about chipotle?
King: about everything!!
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Some people turn sad awfully young ... No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer, and ... get sadder younger than anyone else in the world.
– Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine
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Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I’m one of them.
Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine
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"Science fiction is the art of the possible."
—Ray Bradbury, born on this day in 1920
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