I had things to say tonight. Nothing important, nothing mind-blowing. But things that were on my mind.
Then I got lost on the ‘intraweb’, as Todd and I call it. And I forgot everything I had wanted to say after reading about my literary love, Kurt Vonnegut, on Wikipedia, and
some of the things he apparently said. The only that is mine in the following bit, is the Italic pointing-it-out-to-you-fuck-the-man-was-right.
“With his columns for In These Times, he began an attack on the Bush administration and the Iraq war. “By saying that our leaders are power-drunk chimpanzees, am I in danger of wrecking the morale of our soldiers fighting and dying in the Middle East?” he wrote. “Their morale, like so many bodies, is already shot to pieces. They are being treated, as I never was, like toys a rich kid got for Christmas.” In These Times quoted him as saying “The only difference between Hitler and Bush is that Hitler was elected.”[40][41] In a 2003 interview Vonnegut said, “I myself feel that our country, for whose Constitution I fought in a just war, might as well have been invaded by Martians and body snatchers. Sometimes I wish it had been. What has happened, though, is that it has been taken over by means of the sleaziest, low-comedy, Keystone Cops-style coup d’etat imaginable. And those now in charge of the federal government are upper-crust C-students who know no history or geography, plus not-so-closeted white supremacists, aka ‘Christians,’ and plus, most frighteningly, psychopathic personalities,or ‘PPs.’”[42] When asked how he was doing at the start of a 2003 interview, he replied: “I’m mad about being old and I’m mad about being American. Apart from that, OK.”[43]“
I think I need you again, Vonnegut. (could never call you Kurt, I am sorry. Seemed disrespectful for some reason.) You are always Vonnegut to me. I remember you when I was seventeen, barely a woman, barely able to hold my own with guys my age, not having a clue as to who or what I was or should be, and finding you through a gentle soul who was almost as lost as I was. And then I remember finding you on my father’s staircase, which was also his book shelf. What a revelation that was. My father loved you as well! So I stole his books, and still have them to this day. And we talked about you, a little bit. As much as my father and talked about books, and such, which was not much, and now I wish it had been more. I would have love to have known what he thought about things you had to say, although I am pretty sure he would have agreed with you. After all, if he kept you, then he must of thought you were worth listening to. My dad was a pretty smart man.
