Happy Birthday, Kurt Vonnegut!

I recently finished reading Vonnegut’s latest book A Man Without a Country. It’s a collection of essays that focus on the disconnection he feels with the state of affairs, and at least two of the memoirs left me completely floored. With a remarkable way of describing the world we live in, he demonstrates a knack at injecting smart and vital humor into tragedy. His writing provides something the world needs right now: Comedy that isn’t just a means to escape from the stark reality we live in.

You see, I think that reality is one of those things that the weak simply can’t handle – or at least do everything to avoid. They allow their bubble to become the core of their existence – the stuff they own or wish they owned becomes who they are. They seek out escapist forms of entertainment and hate to see the homeless because they’ve just about convinced themselves that there isn’t suffering, but the damned beggars just ruin the illusion.

Vonnegut has accomplished something special. His writing doesn’t run from reality so much as run you into it. He does this so seductively that you feel you must turn the page because you need to know what happens next. And the way he works this magic is through humor.

If Buddha were looking for a comedy writer, he’d hire Kurt Vonnegut. Or at least he’d want to, but could he afford him?

Happy Birthday, Mr. Vonnegut!