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Kurt Vonnegut is probably my favorite author ever. And it makes me sad that this book is written as his last will and testament basically. It feels to me like this was just his chance to throw all remaining ideas out there just to get it out there. And it works for the most part. There’s some good nuggets of wisdom in here that feel like old Kurt, but there’s also a lot that just kinda flies by without feeling super profound. The meta-ness of this book felt a little messy but when it worked, it worked and made me feel more connected to Kurt. This would’ve worked better as a series of essays, because the plot portions of this book are pretty awful and nothing important comes of it at all. It’s easily Vonnegut at his worst. The Timequake is a pretty good idea, but the Peppers and Prince are just so forgettable.