Hey! he lived in New York too!
Cat's Cradle was the first serious book I ever read. On recommendation from my Dad, I think. I remember, "Oh my god, he actually is going to end it that way." I thought the book was near perfect. Still in hindsight, though I wondered whether that was some sort of juvenalia. I can't read about global warming anymore. This is Kurt Vonnegut in a recent interview: "There is nothing they can do," he bleakly answered. "It's over, my friend. The game is lost." This is Kurt Vonngut in a recent poem:
When the last living thing
has died on account of us,
how poetical it would be
if Earth could say,
in a voice floating up
perhaps
from the floor
of the Grand Canyon,
“It is done.”
People did not like it here.
4 comments:
that is exactly what made me so upset about kurt's death - the fact that he had to die while feeling so fucking hopeless. after hearing that interview for the first time, i got the most awful feeling in the pit of my stomach... the man who always hoped (albeit bleakly and blackly) finally gave up.
if only he'd hung on for a few more to see us start kicking some ass!
sigh. hi ho!
[clearly i haven't seen you in a while if i feel the need to comment on every post!!!]
And, to be clear, I love it.
My Katherine ripped me off after I ripped you off:
http://serialadventurist.blogspot.com/
Curious how she culled the three for the one you had originally chosen to do.
I thought you guys weren't talking.
Mom
So Long Kilgore Trout
Last night Kurt Vonnegut died and I don’t know what to say. That his work impacted my life in the profoundest of ways? That it impacted the world in no less a way? He would laugh, I think, at such grandiose claims. He did, after all suffer from depression that, despite his renown and celebrity, led him to try and take his own life in 1984 by way of liquor and pills. He kidded afterwards, of course, that he had ‘botched the job’.
To me he was the reasonability of insanity, impractical practicality, a disheveled visionary that hated his own reflection so he threw all of his mirrors out the window. But most of all - a light that operated in the dark because that is where light breeds the best contempt.
--From the blog of Matt Good
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