I had a dire feeling when Leonard Nimoy was taken to a nearby hospital on February 19, suffering from chest pain. (He had been diagnosed with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease several years earlier, which he attributed to smoking earlier in his life). This morning I woke up to the sad news that Mr. Nimoy had died at his home.
The character Mr. Nimoy played so well that everyone else attempting it seems like a joke to me, “Mr. Spock” was one of the heroes of my teenage years. At the time, I was struggling to find a workable and somewhat sane balance between my interests in science and rational thought on the one hand, and my passions for art and creativity drawing me into the opposite direction at the same time. I didn’t know where to turn or what to do with my life.
As a character, Spock appealed to me not only because he was fighting the same inner conflicts while inhabiting a world he found troublesome to relate to — a world populated by irrational, perplexing, immature, superfluous and barbarian humans, who were both irritating and fascinating at the same time.
Mr. Spock: “May I point out that I had an opportunity to observe your counterparts quite closely. They were brutal, savage, unprincipled, uncivilized, treacherous – in every way, splendid examples of homo sapiens. I found them quite … refreshing.” Captain Kirk (to Dr. McCoy): “I’m not sure, but I think we’ve been insulted.”
Spock also inspired me to reflect deeply about the differences between the emotional and the rational mind, and on the roles both aspects play in human existence. In time, this led me to the study of existentialism, budō, pantheism and pandeism.
Eventually, I arrived at the conclusion that the conflict between reason and emotion is a vital part of human existence. It forms a system of checks and balances. Only the right, harmonious balance between these two aspects of the human mind, heart and soul form a complete and content human being reaching its full potential.
Mr. Spock: “After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting. It is not logical … but it is often true.”
Many years later, Mr. Nimoy graciously agreed to meet me in person. I wanted to discuss a project I had come up with for the reopening of the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles. (The facility was closed for renovations from 2002 to 2006, and Mr. Nimoy was a fervent supporter and donor. Today, the observatory’s Leonard Nimoy Event Horizon Theater is named after him).
Our meeting took place at a synagogue in Hollywood, and I was probably as nervous as a schoolboy meeting his favorite superhero. I know Mr. Nimoy would not have appreciated my sentiments, but to me it seemed like meeting Mr. Spock in person.
Mr. Spock: “In critical moments, men sometimes see exactly what they wish to see.”
As far as I could tell, Mr. Nimoy liked the idea I was pitching, but of course he may just have been polite. In the end, it didn’t go anywhere, as it became clear that coming from an outsider without political connections, the complex hierarchies of Los Angeles city politics and its bureaucracy would have made it all but impossible to execute. (I was clearly too naive about politics back then).
What else remains there to be said? “Warp speed ahead, Mr. Spock?”. No. Rather: “Thank you, Mr. Nimoy. You did so much more than playing a fictional character on TV and in the movies.”