Aw, fuck. Yeah, I know he was 84. But he wrote one of those books that changed my life: Cat’s Cradle. That fucked all my brains up in Grade 8. I’ve read it at least once every two years since (and usually every year) and every time I get something new out of it; every time I find a new layer or nuance that I never saw before. And that’s to say nothing of the other books he wrote which also fucked my brains, but I could literally be here all night talking about that and chances are you already know what I’m talking about because he probably fucked with the way you see the world too.

In Cat’s Cradle, the central religion is Bokononism, and I think when I die, I’d like its last rites administered to me. In honour of the man and his life, I’m transcribing them here.

God made mud. God got lonesome. So God said to some of the mud, “Sit up!” “See all I’ve made,” said God, “the hills, the sea, the sky, the stars.” And I was some of the mud that got to sit up and look around. Lucky me, lucky mud. I, mud, sat up and saw what a nice job God had done. Nice going, God! Nobody but You could have done it, God! I certainly couldn’t have. I feel very unimportant compared to You. The only way I can feel the least bit important is to think of all the mud that didn’t even get to sit up and look around. I got so much, and most mud got so little. Thank you for the honor! Now the mud lies down again and goes to sleep. What memories for mud to have! What interesting other kinds of sitting-up mud I met! I loved everything I saw! Good night. I will go to heaven now. I can hardly wait… to find out for certain what my wampeter was… and who was in my karass… and all the good things our karass did for you. Amen.

Amen. And good night, Mr. Vonnegut.