The New York Sun ceases publishing today. They fought to get a foothold in New York City, and did so with panache. It was an effort worthy of Don Quixote, trying to build a newspaper when the newspaper industry is slowly dying. Perhaps Cyrano de Bergerac can best pay tribute to the Sun:
All my laurels you have riven away… and my roses;
yet in spite of you there is one crown I bear away with me.
And tonight, when I enter before God, my salute
shall sweep away all the stars from the blue threshold!
One thing without stain, unspotted from the world in spite of doom
mine own and that is… my white plume!
The New York Sun, RIP.
Posted by Hubbard in Uncategorized