cryptochrome's Journal: Slaughterhouse Five

Watched Slaugherhouse Five last night. Yet again, I am struck by how seemingly every every SF author of that generation believes that inner/world peace lies in the arms of a young, scantily-to-un-clad, airheaded, easy girl. Vonnegurt, Niven, Piers Anthony, Heinlein - you name 'em, they wrote about it at some point. Especially Heinlein. I don't know whether it was just a reflection of that era's societal sexism of the Playboy variety, or the burgeoning free love movement, or just plain old self-importance, but it sure was widespread. Just a simpler time, I guess.

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