In this chapter, my favorite passage was: "...use of burning jellied gasoline on human beings. It was dropped on them from airplanes. Robots did the dropping. They had no conscience, and no circuits which would allow them to imagine what was happening to the people on the ground."(SHV pg 168).
I like it, since Vonnegut's inference with this allegory of war and how people gradually become robots, war machines. As a robot, we lose our hearts, and we transform our way of live, centering it in killing and destruction. Uncapable of feeling, we destroy, reck, and bomb. A button, a lever. That is all it takes, but as gravity plays the game, we don't realize the destruction we create. The fire, death. Hell.
It resembles a brain wash from the moment of birth. For example, Muslim children are tought into believing that the west is the enemy, the total enemy, no matter what. They are robots, uncapable of feeling or knowing anything else. This is their truth.
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