on a sad ironic twist of fate,
kurt vonnegut jr. the raving madman who howled on the pages of breakfast of champions, cat's cradle and slaughterhouse five died on the very day my son, thomas seymour was born. "I was a victim of a series of accidents, as are we all", quips vonnegut. of course, if i had known earlier i could have named him kilgore
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