"every respectable artist in this country was against the war. It was like a laser beam. We were all aimed in the same direction. The power of this weapon turns out to be that of a custard pie dropped from a stepladder six feet high."
"every respectable artist in this country was against the war. It was like a laser beam. We were all aimed in the same direction. The power of this weapon turns out to be that of a custard pie dropped from a stepladder six feet high."
That's powerful in a way that hurts.
If I didn't know the source I'd assume it was a line I missed from Disco Elysium.
God damn Vonnegut, exactly right as usual. I can't believe how little attention I paid to Vonnegut when I was younger, I always dismissed him because I was insufferable and thought he was for dumb (cool) kids with poor taste (who did drugs).
But only he managed to finally capture feelings that I had been struggling with, in Slaughterhouse V, when the grindset self-made millionaire guy keeps making a point of telling a bombing survivor that "it had to be done." I could write a long essay about that exchange.
It's the same as when you encounter the problematic parts of Tolkein. You just remind yourself he was British
It's hard to find American writers of that era who didn't absorb a little of that cold war propaganda. At least he held onto the "socialism good" part.
How's that quote from Vonnegut go?
"every respectable artist in this country was against the war. It was like a laser beam. We were all aimed in the same direction. The power of this weapon turns out to be that of a custard pie dropped from a stepladder six feet high."
"every respectable artist in this country was against the war. It was like a laser beam. We were all aimed in the same direction. The power of this weapon turns out to be that of a custard pie dropped from a stepladder six feet high."
That's powerful in a way that hurts.
If I didn't know the source I'd assume it was a line I missed from Disco Elysium.
God damn Vonnegut, exactly right as usual. I can't believe how little attention I paid to Vonnegut when I was younger, I always dismissed him because I was insufferable and thought he was for dumb (cool) kids with poor taste (who did drugs).
But only he managed to finally capture feelings that I had been struggling with, in Slaughterhouse V, when the grindset self-made millionaire guy keeps making a point of telling a bombing survivor that "it had to be done." I could write a long essay about that exchange.
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It's the same as when you encounter the problematic parts of Tolkein. You just remind yourself he was British
It's hard to find American writers of that era who didn't absorb a little of that cold war propaganda. At least he held onto the "socialism good" part.