YOU’VE LIKELY heard about this already and laughed out loud, but I can’t let it pass without mention.
Whatever prestige a Nobel Prize once bestowed, and it was considerable, began to crumble when the committee handed Weepy Barry Obama the Peace Prize 15 minutes after his inauguration.
And now this: The prize for literature goes to — harmonica riff, please — Bob Dylan.
Both the Obama prize and this one are yet more examples of the rot of Western Civilization that was born in the hippie era of the 1960s and continues today.
And I’m not the only one to see this. Scottish novelist Irvine Welsh, author of Trainspotting, said:
“I’m a Dylan fan, but this is an ill-conceived nostalgia award wrenched from the rancid prostates of senile, gibbering hippies.”
That observation alone deserves a Nobel Prize.