Five Years Later - The Crass Media and the Death of Kurt Vonnegut

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When Kurt Vonnegut died—five years ago today—Fox News aired a scathing obituary that mostly highlighted Vonnegut's fallacies as a father, writer, and as a human being.

                

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When I first saw the Fox Special Report on Vonnegut's death, I nearly became sick to my stomach. How could anyone—a newsgroup or otherwise—spin this incredible American writer's death into something political, especially the day after his death? Then, less than six months later, I got sick to my stomach again when my own father died, and his reputation as a U.S. Government photographer was dragged over the coals by a misinformed media. At the time I thought that my world, along with Dad's reputation and integrity, were quickly coming to an end.

But then something happened. I remembered that my favorite author was a cynical realist. Vonnegut was a chain-smoking doomsayer who had all but given-up on mankind's presumably inherent ability for us to be nice to each other. And unlike-wise, my Father had faith in mankind, and he knew that world peace was a very possible reality, although probably not during his lifetime. So I guess Dad was somewhat a realist too, although he didn't know it at the time.

I like to think that between these two men—one being a mentor and the other trying to be a Father to the best of his ability—I somehow found a happy medium that shaped me into the person I am today. A little bit of Yin, a little bit of Yang. There's positive and negative, good and bad, in everything. Without it, there can be no comparison. I would never want to live in a Utopia because really, what's the fun in that? Perpetual pure bliss? No thank you.

Even though the Fox News broadcast was inexcusable and very disappointing to Vonnegut's family and many fans, I actually think Vonnegut would have been amused by the televised obituary. I like to think that the day after his death, Kurt was hanging-out somewhere on a cloud, perhaps sitting next to Walter Cronkite, watching the special report.

"Well color me happy!" Vonnegut would exclaim while watching his own obituary on television, “By God, Fox News actually got something right for once! Stop the presses!"

Oh the hilarity! The above sentence is probably the best impression of Kurt Vonnegut I'll ever write.

I guess it all comes down to this in the end. Whitney's music will always be heard and Vonnegut's words will always be read, just like my Father's photographs will always be seen. And the media, no matter how crass and insensitive, no matter how blood-thirsty they are for controversy and viewership, can't take away the people's desire for authentic art, whether it be music, words, photographs or something else. The media may succeed in temporarily casting a thin veil over these great things—masquerading the person's highlights with their faults—but over time truth does eventually win.

If all the dead, criticized artists could speak, I think their message would be this:

"We did our work because we thought of it as being enjoyable and important. Forgive us."

And of course let's not forget what Vonnegut wrote in chapter 119 of Cat's Cradle:

Each one of us has to be what she or he is...

...We do, doodley do, doodley do, doodely do,
What we must, muddily must, muddily must, muddily must;
Muddily do, muddily do, muddily do, muddily do,
Until we bust, bodily bust, bodily bust, bodily bust.

It's been five years, and I still miss him terribly.

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FiN.