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In a scrapbook my sister Angela used to keep up, there was a clipping from Time magazine where somebody asked Father what games he played for relaxation, and he said, 'Why should I bother with made-up games when there are so many real ones going on? '"He must have surprised himself when he made a cat's cradle out of the string, and maybe it reminded him of his own childhood. I do not intend that this book be a tract on behalf of Bokononism. I learned from the publication of my fraternity, The Delta Upsilon Quarterly, that Newton Hoenikker, son of the Noel Prize physicist, Felix Hoenikker, had been pledged by my chapter, the Cornell Chapter. Hoenikker:"Or should I say, Dear Brother Hoenikker?I should like to offer a Bokononist warning about it, however. "I am a Cornell DU now making my living as a free-lance writer.She could not understand why anyone should be puzzled about what had been or about what was going to be. She was a fool, and so am I, and so is anyone who thinks he sees what God is Doing, [writes Bokonon]. Felix Hoenikker, one of the so-called "Fathers" of the first atomic bomb. Hoenikker himself was no doubt a member of my karass, though he was dead before my sinookas, the tendrils of my life, began to tangle with those of his children.And yet, when I showed her a blueprint of the doghouse I proposed to build, she said to me, "I'm sorry, but I never could read one of those things.""Give it to your husband or your ministers to pass on to God," I said, "and, when God finds a minute, I'm sure he'll explain this doghouse of mine in a way that even you can understand."She fired me. She believed that God liked people in sailboats much better than He liked people in motorboats. Chapter Four A Tentative Tangling Of Tendrils Be that as it may, I intend in this book to include as many members of my karass as possible, and I mean to examine all strong hints as to what on Earth we, collectively, have been up to. The first of his heirs to be touched by my sinookas was Newton Hoenikker, the youngest of his three children, the younger of his two sons.If you do have brothers and sisters, I should like very much to have their addresses so that I can send similar requests to them."I realize that you were very young when the bomb was dropped, which is all to the good, My book is going to emphasize the human rather than the technical side of the bomb, so recollections of the day through the eyes of a 'baby, if you'll pardon the expression, would fit in perfectly."You don't have to worry about style and form. Just give me the bare bones of your story."I will, of course, submit the final version to you for your approval prior to publication."Fraternally yours--"Chapter Five Letter froma pre med To which Newt replied:"I am sorry to be so long about answering your letter. He disappeared right after Father's funeral two years ago, and nobody has heard from him since. When the Manhattan Project came along, the bomb project, Father wouldn't leave Ilium to work on it. You probably know that, too."Anyway, I was playing on the carpet outside his study on the day of the bomb.
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Chapter Two Nice, Nice, Very Nice"If you find your life tangled up with somebody else's life for no very logical reasons," writes Bokonon, "that person may be a member of your karass."At another point in The Books of Bokonon he tells us, "Man created the checkerboard; God created the karass." By that he means that a karass ignores national, institutional, occupational, familial, and class boundaries. In his "Fifty-third Calypso," Bokonon invites us to sing along with him: Oh, a sleeping drunkard Up in Central Park, And a lion-hunter In the jungle dark, And a Chinese dentist, And a British queen--All fit together In the same machine.
A book that left an indelible mark on an entire generation of readers, Cat’s Cradle is one of the twentieth century’s most important works—and Vonnegut at his very best.“[Vonnegut is] an unimitative and inimitable social satirist.”—Harper’s Magazine “Our finest black-humorist . He was, as Graham Greene declared, “one of the best living American writers.” Mr. Listen: When I was a younger man--two wives ago, 250,000 cigarettes ago, 3,000 quarts of booze ago . Such a team is called a karass by Bokonon, and the instrument, the kan-kan, that bought me into my own particular karass was the book I never finished, the book to be called The Day the World Ended.
Frank and I must have read the orgy part a thousand times when we were kids. ”—The New York Times “[Vonnegut is] an unimitative and inimitable social satirist.”—Harper’s Magazine“Our finest black-humorist .
We had it for years, and then my sister Angela found it.
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I was so young when the bomb was dropped that I don't think I'm going to be much help. Conners, 4918 North Meridian Street, Indianapolis, Indiana. So I guess I was going 'burton, burton, burton' on the day of the bomb; and Father was in his study, playing with a loop of string."It so happens I know where the string he was playing with came from. Father took the string from around the manuscript of a novel that a man in prison had sent him.