I'm terrible at memorials, therefore this will not be a memorial journal. Okay, I lied, but I won't be writing it. Stolen from one of my favorite blogs:
"Trying to eulogize a great writer using words is like asking a 70-year-old to pay homage to Dr. J by going out on the court and missing a bunch of layups: I simply don't have the tools to do it right. Sometimes, people accuse him of being a sub par writer, but I think they've missed the point, which was that he wrote simply to explain complex things. His narrative voice feels like he's the world's nicest and smartest grandfather tucking me in at night, answering all my stupid questions about the world with infinite patience. Also, he probably smells like whiskey."
So happy birthday, so it goes. I also think it's appropriate to throw this link in here. It's an awesome local band's song that's essentially four minutes of Vonnegut references.
Things We Stole From Vonnegut's Grave - The Library Voices
Happy birthday Mr. Vonnegut
November 12th, 2008 at 06:19am