A Man Without A Country by Kurt Vonnegut

A Man Without A Country by Kurt Vonnegut was the last work while living by the late American Master.   In terms of the kind of books that Vonnegut wrote, this comes off as his farewell to the world.  Is there any hope for us in the end?  Probably not, the author speculates as he comments on the growing population of humans, the lack of finite oil which keeps us buzzing around at 100 mph in our fancy cars as we blow the atmosphere to hell in a hand basket.  So where does one, especially the late master see the silver lining in this thing we call life?  He sees it, of course, in art, but he recommends that one should not get a degree in it because how’s an artist supposed to make a living at it.  But he defends art as being our true virtue because it helps your soul grow.  Other than that he says, our purpose is just to sit and fart around.  Which is why Vonnegut has such a wide readership of fellow humanists, socialists, and intellectuals.  It’s because he give us the truth like a doctor diagnoses a patient’s disease.  In this case, we’re the patient being force-fed a bunch of lies by our oligarchical powers that that drive us constantly to war for no other reason than to perpetuate our world domination.  Vonnnegut, the true artist, is our doctor, telling it like it is for the sake of reasonable people’s sanity, and he recognizes that our numbers our declining as well.  A Man Without A Country is his manifesto on survival.  The author urges us to read the classics, understand the world, but also recognizes that there isn’t much hope in the end for humanity.   And that’s why it’s so brilliant.  We are left chuckling, sometimes disturbed, perhaps a bit frightened of what the future holds for us.  But the author at the same time says who really gives a fuck.  We are all headed to the mortuary eventually so get your kicks on while you can.  Unfortunately, the author passed in 2007 and we lost our nations greatest voice of sanity.