Dog Poet Transmitting……. <\/p>\n
Let\u2019s be honest, I used to think about the time when I would win the Nobel Prize for Literature. I remember watching the Paul Newman movie, \u201cThe Prize\u201d when I was younger and living vicariously therein but since I have grown out of my teenage years and am now in my early manhood, the scales have somewhat fallen from my eyes. Yes, there was a time when I would imagine my Playboy interview and all of the things I would say; how they would catch me in my day to day and make those cogent observations that the interviewer always made, in the little snapshot vignettes of intimate moments with the enfant terrible, or idiot savant; whichever one of those I turned out to be.<\/p>\n
There were the times when I considered traveling to the south of France to see Maugham in his dotage or T.S. Eliot, when I was coming down from an acid trip. I once ran into Herman Wouk getting his newspaper from in front of his townhouse in Georgetown and another time it was Jean Dixon out watering her flowers. Both times, I was at some point of an acid trip and in both cases it was agreed that, \u201cwe\u2019ll get together for a chat later on\u201d. Apparently I didn\u2019t follow up on that, probably due to yet another acid trip. I did manage to see more of Elvis in LA and Palm Springs, probably because I wasn\u2019t tripping at the time, although I might as well have been. I don\u2019t know what kind of acid the Nobel judging committee is on but I\u2019m pretty sure it\u2019s bad acid. It\u2019s probably a lot like the brown acid that was going around at Altamont. I didn\u2019t take any of that.<\/p>\n
There was a time when I though honor and recognition had some sort of value. I believed they conferred legitimacy; an artistic imprimatur, though I\u2019ve always been more Giordano Bruno than Thomas Aquinas and I\u2019m not Catholic anyway\u2026 staying within the strict definition of the term. Still\u2026 the beckoning laurel wreath, the admiration of my fellows had its appeal in my callow youth. Something has changed along the way. I saw what the Royal Academy did to the people who really deserved the recognition. I saw the sort of people who got honors and the kinds of certificates The Wizard handed out to The Scarecrow.<\/p>\n
The Nobel Prize was always the cr\u00e8me de la cr\u00e8me of awards and I hung on to that for awhile, along with the Academy Award for best song but\u2026 those have tailed away into insignificance as well now. When they gave the Nobel Prize to Kissinger, Begin and Eli the plagiarizing Weasel<\/a>, the bloom went off the rose as the wart grew on the nose. If I remember correctly, Lil\u2019 Georgie Bush and Debonair Tony Blair were nominees\/ sorry for the interruption, I had to go outside and throw up into a potted plant. I feel better now.<\/p>\n These days I can\u2019t think of any award I\u2019d be likely to get tumescent over. They say that when goats get in rut they piss all over themselves in the process. I wonder if there\u2019s some kind of connection there. Nah\u2026 like so many things in life that aren\u2019t, it\u2019s probably just coincidence. These days, I think if I were to get a Nobel Prize, it would be an opportunity to donate the money to The Charlie Manson Fund for Undead Mothers and the chance to give one of my Clive Barker channeling Mother Shipton speeches. At the end of the speech, I\u2019d moon the august assembly with some pithy statement stenciled on my ass. It\u2019s not like I didn\u2019t do things like that in earlier days on smaller stages. Some of us have more Martin Luther in us than others.<\/p>\n So they went and gave a serial killer of a used car salesman the Nobel Peace Prize. The rollicking irony is just too much. I keep snorting and chuckling to myself and then shaking my head. The sheer beauty of it\u2026 ah\u2026 (shaking head yet again) well\u2026 sigh\u2026 I\u2019m thinking he might have got the prize for all those unmanned drones in Pakistan. That saves lives, if you consider the possibility of one being shot down and there being no dead pilots but\u2026 I\u2019m told the votes were cast two weeks after he got shoehorned into the White House.<\/p>\n See, this is more of The Apocalypse at work. Day by day you see the dramatic exposure of modern corruptions. Day by day, the creatures of the night are being dragged into the sunlight. In many cases, they are waltzing out on their own and waving for the cameras like your friend Mitterrand just did; gag me with a rent boy.<\/p>\n It shouldn\u2019t be too much to ask that Boris Yeltsin gets an award from Alcoholics Anonymous for Distinguished Service in the Afterlife or something posthumous for Pol Pot; something to do with humanitarian service. Roy Kroc, I\u2019m sure, got a lot of awards and Bush and Blair are going to keep getting awards until they go to their reward which\u2026 I have the suspicion is not going to be along similar lines.<\/p>\n I\u2019m reaching, I know, but what can anyone say about things like this? The absurdity has gotten to the point that it\u2019s truly difficult to come up with workable satire. Satire is a form where you blow something out of proportion to highlight the truth of the subject. Ridicule and exaggeration are often employed but it\u2019s like when the limbo bar is laying flat on the ground. You have to dig a trench to get under it. There\u2019s serious work involved.<\/p>\n A reader informed me that it was a good thing I wrote my \u2018snake-eyed liar\u2019 post when I did because if I\u2019d waited it would look like sour grapes now.<\/p>\n Members of the Nobel Committee, you are a pack of ignorant sluts. You ought to be producing infomercials or working for one of those home shopping networks. We have some idea of who the man is \u201cthat squats behind the man who works the soft machine\u201d. We can toss names around but there\u2019s always that shadow land thing where you can\u2019t quite make out the faces of the actual individuals who actually made certain things happen. You know it came out of a certain department or foundation. You know that it benefited certain people but when you go looking for the salient details, you see the umleitungen sign and you automatically follow the lead of the path of least resistance, due to the programming that build the roads and the mindsets of the world surrounding the automatic confinements of the boxed in minds.<\/p>\n You want irony? Mahatma Gandhi never got the prize. Imagine that? When they gave the prize to the Dali Lama they said it was, in part, to make up for Gandhi not getting it. I\u2019ll bet that made the Dali Lama feel pretty golden about the thing. Of course, he\u2019s already the Dali Lama so it shouldn\u2019t hurt his feelings that much. However\u2026 ponder all of the ramifications of this paragraph for a moment. I\u2019m thinking, even though they didn\u2019t say so that maybe they gave Kissinger the award to make up for overlooking Molotov and Ribbentrop previously. <\/p>\n
\nI can\u2019t find the names of the judges<\/a> and I\u2019m not surprised. It\u2019s funny when you go looking for who did what. Sometimes you just can\u2019t find out. Try to find out who actually wrote those Homeland Insecurity documents. Try to find out who gave the orders given by the people who got the orders and passed them on to the people who carried them out. There are a lot of mysteries in this life. One of those mysteries is; why do you never see a Rothschild on the Forbes list? Come to think of it, I can think of a lot of names that get left off that list. It\u2019s easier to find out \u201cWho put the bomp in the bomp shibomp shibomp? Who put the ram in the rama lama ding dong?\u201d<\/p>\n