Wednesday, October 12, 2011

"Poo-tee-weet."

One of the first things Vonnegut states in his book is "There is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre." (Pg. 19). As I read these words for the first time, I couldn't really figure out their true meaning. I believed they were an overstatement or exaggeration, that you could surely talk about what a horrible experience that was, or how the families of the poor victims suffered many years after the war, or even write a war "story book", explaining a little of the events that led to the massacre and the consequences this had on the area and its inhabitants. In any case, I believed the author wasn't making much sense, since he had written an entire book about that topic.

I didn't know how wrong I was. As I sit here, having had a couple of days to really take in the book's meaning and come up with ideas of what to write this final entry about, I know Vonnegut was right. There really is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre, or in this case about the retelling of such a horrible experience. It explains why Vonnegut decided to end his book on the way he did, because there is simply no way to respond to such a horrible and low act.

Slaughterhouse-five is yet another example of the horrible things that happen to good people, and it shows us just how far our race will go in order to prove that they are right. It may seem hard to believe, but Vonnegut has a point when he compares wars to glaciers. This way of "solving" differences has been present since the beginning of time, it has simply evolved throughout the years. As sad as it seems, war is part of our culture, and whether we're like it or not, it is also a part of our nature.

There are no words to describe uncertainty, loss, fear, or despair. Just as there is no explanation as to why we do the things we do, even if we know the consequences of our actions.

I wish to end this final entry by quoting Forest Gump, because "that's all I have to say about that.”

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