Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Quality just drop-kicked popular in the stomach and stole his wallet


Good things deserve pats on the back, exuberant high fives, unrealistic adjectives & titles of grandeur, golden plaques and wheel barrows of cash.

But, a perfect world, this is not. Good things, particularly in the rockosphere, are usually limited to high fives only. The big money making draws get the pats on the back, the golden plaques and the expensive lunches.

However, Bob Dylan has never adhered to the system, or any other system and consequently has become the greatest award vandal I can think of in the music business, low-blowing the rules and running away with what his work has rightfully earned.

Though his spirit is one of the clearest definitions of rock n roll, I mumble profanities to myself when people refer to his music as 'rock n roll.' Even his most electric tunes strike me as folk songs, tales, and roaring carnivals of noise; like a novel brought to life as a pop up book with fireworks and cannonballs, a novel that was typed out with lightning bolts instead of a typewriter. To call him a musician falls short. To call him a poet laureate falls even shorter. To call him anything is to miss the point and sound like a bozo who needs a donkey to pin a tail to.

To me, that is what a Pulitzer Prize should award (NOT the bozo). Not just a story. Not just a story worth telling. But a story that opens up an entire library, a back window to the world. Not just a story that shows you the dirt, but gives everyone a shovel and plenty of reasons to dig. A story that makes you want to tell your own story. Or a picture that doesn't tell me a 1000 words, but a million. The strength in writing anything doesn't come from wording something eloquently or cleverly, but from how hard you push the pen against the paper. And Dylan taught writers, songwriters, artists, and photographers that you can put more than ink on a piece of paper, more than noise in the air, and more than dreams in your head.

I couldn't think of a person more fit from the 20th century for a Pulitzer Prize than Bob Dylan to win the Pulitzer. So, way to step up Pulitzer awarders. You're like the one group of awarders left giving away the right awards to the right people.

Although you didn't give The Mercury their 3rd one yet, creating an honorary one for Bobby sews your amends right up. I guess you can say some good things do get what they deserve. AND wheelbarrows of cash. That's $10,000 crisp Washingtons by my count. If I got that, I wouldn't have to work on Maggie's Farm no more.

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1 Comments:

Blogger Dominique (Nikki) Minor said...

That is a mighty fine blog my friend. By the way, I'm digging the Black Keys' stuff. I'm glad you put the link up.

April 13, 2008 at 2:48 AM 

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