Kurt Vonnegut is a genius. Not only is he a genius, he is the most well respected American author that is not currently dead. But don’t take my word for it, take everyone else’s!

Or you can read Hocus Pocus and decide for yourself. If you do, there is no way you could be disappointed. Vonnegut is at his most unsympathetic in this novel. And when Kurt gets pissed, he gets funny. And when he gets funny, you know it’s only because it’s so true.

Hocus Pocus, one of his more recent books from a writing career spanning over 50 years, was published in 1990. It does not, however, suffer any loss in relevance, partially because the book is set it 2001, and the “future” Vonnegut describes is all too familiar.

The America in which the story takes place is one where the highest bidding foreign country owns whatever stake of the U.S. that it can afford, only to experience some bitching buyer’s remorse after learning that the American government had all ready looted all of the worthwhile assets clean. In this strange America, the class struggle is more of a complacent wallow, and what occupies the thoughts of the imprisoned main character, Eugene Debs Hartke, is that he has killed the same number of people (in Vietnam) that he has made love to (not only in Vietnam).

Eugene mainly deals with the Japanese portion of “investors” that have come to America, which allows for some truly classic humor. Eugene, a teacher, humorously tells one of his students that “the two principal currencies of the world [are] the Yen and fellatio.”

Although not Vonnegut’s own words, there is one other notable excerpt (not exactly a spoiler as it’s the book’s dedication): “While there is a lower class I am in it. While there is a criminal element I am of it. While there is a soul in prison I am not free.”