Word: vonneguts
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...Breakfast of Champions, Vonnegut...
...search for a liveable theology I've discovered that Breakfast of Champions, the very work liberating me to criticize bad books is, quite frankly, terrible. It's so bad, I can no longer, deny Nietzsche: Kurt Vonnegut, my Creator, has lost his creativity; Got ist, indeed...
Breakfast of Champions is loaded with pictures too, all by my creator. Unfortunately Vonnegut can't blame his publishers for these childish sketches, which I assume were included to pad the novel out. In many ways, these drawings, along with the over-simplified prose indigenous to the Vonnegut novels I've lived in, remind me of The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint Exupery. This is a heavy classic, the kind of children's book where adults can find "deep awareness." But if The Little Prince has any content, Breakfast of Champions has none. My creator's general idea...
...creator gives me the honor of finally driving Dwayne over the brink. Now that I'm free, I want to deny that I ever existed in this novel; I was the unwilling dupe in a mad production. Vonnegut won't get off by claiming he's clearing his head "of all the junk in there." He can't expect me, his own creation, to sympathize with him when he tells his schizophrenic self in a bar in his own novel that he's writing a "very bad book...
When I'm wishing I were back in his novels, undisturbed by the knowledge that I'm a fictitious character who could be leading a less miserable life, I sometimes wonder about Kurt Vonnegut's Creator. What could possibly have motivated Him to have Vonnegut write Breakfast of Champions? What foul soul, mortal or immortal, would allow me to be so maliciously maligned? A thought just struck me. Perhaps my Creator has won his own freedom; maybe he has a free will. Then maybe someday he will come up with something better than this nauseating novel...