Good bye Kurt Vonnegut. I hope you found a neat way to die. (What a bokononist thing to say)
Thanks for blowing my mind fifteen years ago when I read about how you wrote yourself into your own novel in that jazz bar with the artist guy from Blackbeard in one corner as you continued to write about the fate of Dwayne Hoobler (or was it Kilgore Trout?), who was also in the bar, living as you wrote Breakfast of Champions. Thank you for bringing us Bokononism, Tralfamadorians, and thank you for the Church of God the Utterly Indifferent. Thank you for Billy Pilgrim's epiphanies in time and space.
But mostly, thank you for this: