I was pretty bummed out to learn last night that Kurt Vonnegut died. Both Breakfast of Champions and "Harrison Bergeron" are pieces of his work that I have fond memories of and have reread over the years. The man could twist satire and dark comedic staples into these magnificiently formed worlds where nothing was as simple as it seemed. The bleakness was everywhere, especially in his own voice, that style he personified to a point in each and every thing he wrote. Looking back now, I can see his influence on me. He shall be missed.
So it goes.
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