In this world where everybody is a broadcasting unit and a newspaper - watch those tweets on twitter and you will know what I mean - is it any surprise that getting another's attention is like asking a bull terrier to read a newspaper. The terrier would, you know what. So let that be.
This being the age shouting out for recoginition; be it arts, music, writing, journalism, politics, social work: getting rewarded for your work is also a dicey business. "Hey, hey, look here I have done something great, I am that unique face." That's everybody's hype, not mine. But, most of them tend to be self motivated individuals out to get free publicity.
I am not quite the least bit surprised that even a literary meeting has to be sponsored by a business house. No, no, they aren't satisfied by sponsoring, they want their brands right alongside the headline of the arty affair. And why not, they are paying for it, aren't they? Soaps and deathless prose? Quite possible, this.
So is there an end to this corruption of the soul? Some respite for the beleagured soul dazed by the extent of the graft of the imagination. It's so widespread that we don't realise until we proble deeper. I mean not probe like armchair sleuths do. Think about it in a meditative sort of way. Hm. Did that. What emerges? Imagine ones surprise when a media house revealed to this blogger that to enroll in their excellence awards one had to pay a heavy entrance fee. Imagine!
By the way, Leslie Nielsen of spoofs like Naked Guns died last night. Leslie Nielsen R.I.P. Don't know how they do it but Wikipedia editors edit their articles in real time, so I think. When I referred to this article it already had updated about Nielsen's death. That's good work.
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