Get Cynical

I’m a bit backed up on a few projects right now so don’t expect too many updates until next week. If you’re jonesing for more links you may want to visit Miss Cellania’s blog. Or should I say blogs. She’s like the blogosphere’s version of that Jamaican family from In Living Color. She has more blogs than they had jobs. You can find some of her contributions at:

YesButNoButYes (I love that title)

Neatorama

Mental Floss

Freedom’s Place

Grumpy Old Bitches

Miss C Recommends

And finally, Miss Cellania.

If she starts contributing to one more blog I’m going to stage an intervention.

I’m not sure if they are recruiting for a navy or an offbroadway play.

In Moscow….people drive by for a long time before anyone realizes that he’s not just drunk. He tries to get up a couple of times, but can’t manage it.

Once again, Stephen Colbert lands in hot water.

Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five
Part six
Part seven
Part eight

Expect a lot of Vonnegut links today:

In Cat’s Cradle, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., created a new religion, Bokononism. The holy scripture of Bokononism was the ever-growing “Books of Bokonon”, written by Bokonon — a British Episcopalian Negro from the island of Tobago whose real name was Lionel Boyd Johnson [ 48 ] — as a way to distract the people of San Lorenzo from their pitiful lives. What is sacred to Bokononists? Not God; just one thing: man. [ 94 ]

And the first verse of the Book of Bokonon:

Verse 1: All of the true things that I am about to tell you are shameless lies.

This maybe the first time I’ve ever been choked up about a famous person’s death. I have read just about every word the man has ever published. It’s a very sad day.

NEW YORK (AP) — Kurt Vonnegut, the satirical novelist who captured the absurdity of war and questioned the advances of science in darkly humorous works such as “Slaughterhouse-Five” and “Cat’s Cradle,” died Wednesday. He was 84.

Vonnegut, who often marveled that he had lived so long despite his lifelong smoking habit, had suffered brain injuries after a fall at his Manhattan home weeks ago, said his wife, photographer Jill Krementz.

The author of at least 19 novels, many of them best-sellers, as well as dozens of short stories, essays and plays, Vonnegut relished the role of a social critic. He lectured regularly, exhorting audiences to think for themselves and delighting in barbed commentary against the institutions he felt were dehumanizing people.