Looking To The Stars

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Due to his suddenly being called away to protect the world from a series of sentient triangles masquerading as human beings who are plotting world domination, “Starman” Matt Morrison was unable to write a column this week. Or so he claims.

The truth, we suspect, is that Mr. Morrison is suffering from some manner of flu or the side-effect from the flu medication he is taking. At any rate, he is feverish, hallucinatory and making even less sense than usual.

We apologize for the inconvenience and would like to assure our readers that Mr. Morrison will be back next week. Hopefully the sentient triangles will not.

He stands at the center of the universe, old as the stars and wise as infinity. And he can see the turning of the last page long before you’ve even started the book. He’s like rain and fog and the chilling touch of the grave. He is called many names in a thousand tongues on a million worlds. Heckler. The Smirking One. Riffer. The Lonely Magus. Wolf-Brother. The God of Snark. Mister Pirate. The Guy In The Rafters. Captain. The Voice In The Back. But here and now, in this place and in this time, he is called The Starman. And... he's wonderful.