A reader writes:
Reading from this exerpt of Vonnegut's man without a country, he ties in with many of the recent themes of your blog. Like all true cynics (and the essential, unfortunatley subtle intellectual distinction between a cynic and a nihilist), is a love of something that, while riddled doubt and doubt's realizations, burns more intensely than most 'true believers.' Cynics like Vonnegut have seen the true nature of frail human institutions, and hate the frailty but continue to love the institution. Fundamentalists - of all stripes - decide to ignore the frailty, and as a result never see the truth. Vonnegut's love for America seemed radical and very deep. But he couldn't help but temper that with doubt, and was unable to ignore the frailties. That excerpt does what all great cynical writings do, build in the reader a sense of gloom but at the same time inspire a rage that motivates. That glorious mix of exhilaration and depression.