Monday, April 16, 2007

Vale Kurt Vonnegut

Dry insights, mordant wit and spare prose: his writing shone in my youth, although I felt that in his later years, which were marked by depression, he tended to lapse into self-parody.
Now old Kurt has been swallowed up by the great chronosynclastic infundibulum in the sky.
So it goes.
Poot-tee-wheet

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