Kurt Vonnegut Dies

I read the news today oh boy.

It said that Kurt Vonnegut, the writer died. Kurt is one of my top five favorite writers of all time. The other 4 in no particular order are John Irving, J.R.R. Tolkien, Steve Sonnabend, and James Michener. Actually James Michener is tied with about ten people, but you get the idea.

Only John Irving is still alive. He is probably not very thrilled to be on this list then I’m guessing.

I have never been able to read a Kurt Vonnegut book without being inspired. Often inspired to write. But always inspired to think and reflect. Even the novels he wrote that sucked still have several thought provoking, wise, or inspirational passages. Reading a Vonnegut novel is a cathartic event, it inspires you to think about what you believe. You don’t have to agree with share his perspectives, some of which were really whacked. You don’t have to like his characters, which were often not well developed in the traditional sense, because they still always somehow seemed real even when they were aliens. You didn’t have to enjoy all of the metaphors he would build, some of which were quite sloppy and could not hold up well to scrutiny. The message behind the metaphor always contained a truth, or at least a good portion of a truth.

So we all plod on. Knowing the likes of Uncle Kurt will never be seen again. No one else is capable of writing a quote like:

“I tell you we were put on earth to fart around, and don’t let anybody tell you different.”

O.k. Uncle Kurt, I won’t. I pronounce April 12th, 2007 official Fart Around day in the Schiddy Nation. Everyone needs to take at least 15 minutes to fart around. Here are some suggestions: doodle on a piece of paper, make a paper clip necklace, daydream about the Minnesota Wild’s chances of winning the Stanley Cup, or sneak an extra cigarette. Perhaps one idea would be to go to the public service level of the Hennepin County Government Center. There today politicians, millionaires, and their minions will spew self-congratulatory propaganda about a new Twins stadium. Yet I will be watching a 70 year old Cuban man named Tony Olivia standing next to them saying nothing. I will imagine he is day dreaming about playing stick ball as a kid in a back lot in Cuba, because he and I know that is true outdoor baseball. In real life he will probably be wondering if Pohlad paid him enough money to be a prop for his little stadium announcement, but that is not what I will be imagining he is thinking, because I will be farting around.

Fart around Schiddy nation, fart around.

Were giving Uncle Kurt the last word today:

“Life happens too fast for you ever to think about it. If you could just persuade people of this, but they insist on amassing information.”