Tchoc.....Carl Sagan's books were a huge influence on me, quite possibly the biggest. (but one always has to discard influences and move forward else you get stuck...

). Science's greatest communicator and first popstar. Thanks for the link....I see that it is considerably changed since I last saw it.
Aznavour wrote a very personal song 'They Fell' about Armenia.
BTW, in college I once roomed with a Turk and an Armenian-Russian so you bet we had some lively discussions late into the night.
as best as I can remember the words....
They fell that year they vanished
From the earth,
Never knowing the cause
Or what laws they offended,
The women fell as well
And the babies they tended.
Left to die left to cry
All condemned by their birth.
They fell like rain
Across the thirsty land,
In their hearts they were slain,
In their god still believing
All their pity and pain,
In that season of grieving
All in vain, all in vain
Just for one helping hand.
For no one heard their prayers,
In a world bent on pleasure
From other peoples cares
They simply closed their eyes
They create a lot of sound
In jazz and night time measure
The trumpets screamed till dawn
To drown the children’s cries.
They fell like leaves
Its people its prime,
Simple man kindly man,
And no one knew his crime
They became in that hour
Like a small desert flower
Simply covered by the silent wind
In sands of time.
They fell that year
Before cruel foe
They had little to give
But their lives and their passion,
And their longing to live
In their way in their fashion
So their harvest can thrive
And their children can grow.
They fell like flies
Their eyes still full of sound
Like a dove in its flight
In the path of rifle
That falls down were it might,
As if death were a trifle
And to bring to an end
A life barely begun.
And I am of that race,
Who died in unknown places
Who perished in their pride,
Whose blood in rivers ran,
In agony and fright
With courage on their faces
They went in to the night,
That waits for every man.
They fell like tears
And never knew what for
In that summer of strife
Of massacre and war
Their only crime was life
There only guilt was fear
The children of Armenia
Nothing less nothing more.