Kurt Vonnegut
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When he hath tried me,
I shall come forth as gold.
The man to whom this article is dedicated, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., is no longer amongst the living, so they say. He is kaput. So it goes.
When I was a young man, Kurt Vonnegut taught me to love life. The way he taught me to love life was to be impolite about everyone and everything. Now I am an old fart and I am paid to be impolite, but my impoliteness never seems as profound, never seems as graceful as the impoliteness of Kurt Vonnegut. I still remember the lessons Kurt taught me. He taught me that humanity was in great danger and we were all hurtling out of control on a fractured planet that was dying fast. The only way we could correct the venality and stupidity and vindictiveness and barbarity of our fellow man was by exposing it to the light of day. I sure miss Kurt Vonnegut.
My article begins like this:
Listen:
Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. was born in the United States of America.
And finishes like this:
Poo-tee-weet?
Now I have finished this article, how do I feel? I feel lousy. But I always feel lousy about my articles. I feel like King Midas, except everything I touch turns to shit. King Midas was a figure in Greek Mythology who starved to death because everything he touched would turn to gold. I don't want to eat shit. I'd rather starve.
Contents |
[edit] Early life
Listen:
Kurt Vonnegut was born in the United States of America. This was more commonly known as America. America was a confederacy of states. At the time, it was the biggest and strongest nation in the world. This is what its flag looked like:
When Vonnegut was growing up, America was the biggest and strongest nation in the world. But they were going through tough times. There were lots of Americans who were out of work because there weren't enough jobs to go around. The Americans had a name for that period. This is what it was:
THE GREAT DEPRESSION
A number of Americans felt listless, shirtless, and hopeless - in addition to being jobless. Some of them invented horse racing, specifically The Preakness.
Kurt Vonnegut was born to two parents (which was the usual number at the time). A father, coincidentally also named Kurt Vonnegut, and a mother named Edith, who later killed herself by drinking Drāno.
Drāno was a mixture of sodium chloride and sodium hydroxide. When she drank it, she became a living volcano. So it goes.
Kurt Vonnegut began his writing career at the age of twenty-eight, penning the tale "Repeat on the Barnhouse Defect" after a chance meeting with distinguished science fiction author and Nobel laureate Kilgore Trout. The Nobel Prize was named after chemist Alfred Nobel, who was most famous for inventing dynamite.
Dynamite was a mixture of nitroglycerin and soil, forming a high explosive which has allowed man to kill man at an unprecedented rate. He is now known for honoring poets and authors and peace activists. So it goes.
[edit] WAR!
Listen: After graduating from high school, Kurt Vonnegut attended Cornell, Yale, Princeton, Harvard, Duke, SUNY Fredonia, and Smith College. He flunked out of all of these institutions at astonishing speed, sometimes only lasting for a few hours. He held the record for collegiate failures for several years until it was beaten by Henry Kissinger.
Finally admitting defeat, Vonnegut wandered around despondently for several minutes until, on a whim, he decided to moonwalk to Europe and fight in World War II. He later described this period as "the best time in his – I mean, my – life." While in Germany he killed many people, including all of Dresden. So it goes.
Vonnegut's experience in the war taught him this: People are good for killin'. This became a theme in many of his books. For instance, in his science fiction novel Penis on a Half Shell, the protagonist, Frasier Churchill Rumsfeld, famously declares: "I’m going to fucking bury that guy, I have done it before, and I will do it again. I’m going to fucking kill Kilgore Trout."
Trout.
Trout have been known to reach speeds of up to 60mph, and twice that on land.
[edit] Fuck
Upon returning from the war, Kurt Vonnegut took a flying fuck at a rolling donut. He took a flying fuck at the mooooooooon.
[edit] Writing
Vonnegut took up writing novels and instantly became the most popular novelist of all time. As mentioned above, the main theme of his novels was the joy of killing. Other minor themes included the inherent superiority of white people, the stupidity of liberals (whom he famously called "lieberals"), the practicality of the semicolon, and the immorality of swearing. And so on.
[edit] Works
Vonnegut is known to have either written, dictated, or found these Important Works of Literature:
- Dinner of the Slightly Less Than Cowardly
- Slaughterhouse Five, Plus Two
- Breakfast of LOSERS
- Fahrenheit 450 For 20 Minutes
- Mother Not a Nazi"
- An Old Bat in the Attic
- Never Mark Twain Shall Meet
- Neverwind
- The Curious Case of Scotch
- Fear and Loathing Myself
- The Growing Cost of Coffee
- Uncle Afternoon
- Satire
- Freebird
- Vagina Like a Clamshell
- Did Lynyrd Skynyrd murder Abraham Lincoln?
The Growing Cost of Coffee was written posthumously, which goes to show you how easy writing really is.
[edit] Death
In 2007, Kurt Vonnegut fell from a ladder and broke his skull, like poor old Tim Finnegan. Tim Finnegan was an Irishman who, so the ballad goes, died after falling off a ladder. At his wake, someone poured whiskey all over him and he got back up again. Kurt Vonnegut did not get back up again.
Kurt Vonnegut is now in heaven. So it goes.
Poo-tee-weet?
 Article written in the style of its subjectThis article is funny because it is written in the real or imagined writing style of its subject. If you do not find it funny, it is probably because you are an ignorant cultural philistine who does not recognise this without explanation. If you still do not find the article funny, that is probably because a joke loses its humor when it is explained. If you hadn't been so ignorant, then you wouldn't have needed to have the joke explained to you in the first place. |
