Kurt Vonnegut died yesterday. If you're not familiar with his work, Cat's Cradle, Slaughterhouse-Five, or (my personal favourite) Breakfast of Champions are all good jumping on points. I suppose the majority of his novels are nominally science-fiction, but most of the time that's just a vehicle for Vonnegut's cynical take on the fucked-up craziness of life, politics and humanity. He's also one of the funniest writers you will ever read. In a newspaper article written last year, Kurt Vonnegut offered this as his epitaph:THE ONLY PROOF HE NEEDED
FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD
WAS MUSIC
1 comment:
It's a shame that some people have to die before you get around to putting 'em on the to-check-out list. Nice epitaph, his and yours.
Post a Comment