He was a machine, like all Tralfamadorians.
He was held together by cotter pins, hose clamps, nuts, bolts, and magnets. Salo’s tangerine-colored skin, which was so expressive when he was emotionally disturbed, could be put on or taken off like an Earthling wind-breaker. A magnetic zipper held it shut.
The Tralfamadorians, according to Salo, manufactured each other. No one knew for certain how the first machine had come into being.
Kurt Vonnegut, The Sirens of Titan
Jamais d’accord avec mon clone issu de la veille. Les sirènes de Titan (si c’est là le bon titre) me déçoit pas, point final. Être Tralfamadorien (donc, quelque part, être tout court), ça voudrait dire être uniformément hier, aujourd’hui et demain. Rêveries paupières ouvertes. Retour sur terre. Vie grise. Trier quelques spare parts. Sommes encore en rupture en kneecaps et hipbones.
