Happy Vonneguts Birthday

I'm a few days late with this post
But I am not at my computer as often as I would like these days

Kurt's Birthday was November 11th
A day we choose to celebrate as Veterans day

I remember the day as Armistace Day
And also Kurt's Birthday

As I approached my fiftieth birthday, I had become more and more enraged and
mystified by the idiot decisions made by my countrymen.

And then I had
come suddenly to pity them, for I understood how innocent and natural it was for
them to behave so abominably, and with such abominable results:
They were
doing their best to live like people invented in story books. This was the
reason Americans shot each other so often: It was a convenient literary device
for ending short stories and books.

Why were so many Americans treated
by their government as though their lives were as disposable as paper facial
tis- sues? Because that was the way authors customarily treated bit-part players
in their made-up tales.
And so on.

Once I understood what was making
America such a dangerous, unhappy nation of people who had nothing to do with
real life, I resolved to shun storytelling.
I would write about life.
Every person would be exactly as important as any other.
All facts would
also be given equal weightiness.
Nothing would be left out. Let others bring
order to chaos.
I would bring chaos to order, instead, which I think I have
done.

If all writers would do that, then perhaps citizens not in the
literary trades will understand that there is no order in the world around us,
that we must adapt ourselves to the requirements of chaos instead. It is hard to
adapt to chaos, but it can be done.

I am living proof of that: It can be done.


Kurt Vonnegut - Breakfast of Champions