1. And some people just visit, while others actually live there- and between the two is a huge chasm. It's not the locals who are out there doing the chicken dance, ya know Bob?

  2. https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/literature/2016/dylan/facts/ By Ben Sisario: June 5, 2017 After Bob Dylan was named the winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature last October, the literary commentariat wrestled with a fundamental question: Can song lyrics be literature? For some, the thought carried an unkind implication: Does something from the galaxy of pop music belong anywhere near the almighty pantheon of Great Lit?

    On Monday, the Nobel Foundation released Mr. Dylan’s lecture, a requirement for receiving the award (and its cash prize of about $900,000). In the speech, which is just over 4,000 words long — and about 27 minutes, in an accompanying recording — Mr. Dylan shows that he has been thinking about the question too, and gave a defense detailing his literary and musical influences, and ending on a note that every lit major should know.

  3. b dylan, probably the most unhappy critter to have ever slid through th u canal with a face born w/o a smile. can't stand the punk.

  4. I wonder if we'll get to see another great bard in the 21 century? Sadly, it seems Dylan was the last one. The times they are a'changing indeed. We've already witnessed the death of most of the arts – only film has some life in it still and manages to produce timeless masterpieces.

  5. what's with all the JOKE POLICING going on here, yes we know , the song isn't about the band or the magazine, its about the actual definition of the expression. we get that. thats why its a joke. some people really have a strange sense of humor. it might not be funny but you do get it's a joke right?

  6. I was a carefree affluent teenager; my Dad had deep concerns about civil rights and the environment. Time went by he succumbed to Alzheimers and I was face to face with the real world. He always liked Dylan and suddenly I knew why. My great rock hero is Tom Petty, who combined genius with an appreciation and veneration for other musicians ; my favorite quote in a rare interview was, well, once you over his Bobness, he's a person (Travelling Wilburys context). I could go on and on …

  7. I don't know which is worse- my neighbors right above my head having sex for a hour close to midnight last night and me having to hear it all, or the fact thier small child and the woman's brother also undoubtedly heard it all (numerous times) too. But when I took a walk in the middle of the night I finally figured out where that car alarm sound kept coming from- the man's piece of shit parked out front that he couldn't even afford a decent car alarm for- so it just goes off on its own. When I walked away from the house last night it went off and I thought maybe I'd be blamed for it, but it also went off three times this morning before 7AM- so no worries.

  8. This brings back so many memories. Good, bad and ugly. One summer, when I went from a child to something else, and could not go back. This song was on the radio, marking this time in my life.

  9. This song broke ground for every other musician to come after Bob Dylan. Its influence on the music industry was massive.

  10. Bob Dylan, Neil Young, The Band, Grateful Dead, Lou Reed and many others artists made a great gift to the culture. I want to explore USA and Canada just to feel that special atmosphere. Greetings from Poland, 7500 km away.

  11. Currently sitting on the back porch, watching the storm, drinking black tea and listening to Bob Dylan. Only 23 hours ago my 15 year old dog got put down after suffering a massive stroke. Rest in peace forever my princess. Love you forever. Miss you already. 16/10/2019. 4:42 pm.

  12. Yes sirree Bob! In America we have Jewish neighborhoods, black neighborhoods, and rich neighborhoods- but in Latin America they don't necessarily segregate by class, race or religion (though sometimes they do)- but profession. They have neighborhoods full of flowers from florists (typically by cemeteries), neighborhoods full of furniture and their makers, neighborhoods full of bakers (none of whom keep bakers hours), sellers of musical instruments, indoor plumbing, and tiles and even entire towns full of car washes proudly advertising thier services by an ever running hose spraying into the air. Guess which kind of neighborhood I've landed at in Huancayo Peru this week? Mechanics, welders & machinists unite! A whole neighborhood full of oil and grease and the grinding and pounding of metal all day long from sun up to sundown. But at least I missed the mercado section of town as well as the downtown and the few taxis who come here are for repair.

    I wonder if they just follow what their neighbors do to make money- or they are all related and follow whatever profession their parents did and as time went on there are more and more of them in one area, or if they decide to be something, then all move to the same neighborhood because there's already established clientele, and no one has to consult a phonebook or Google Maps for that particular service?

  13. Of all the more complicit songs out there, this is the one that you hear in your head when you find that those who fouled you (or that someone) wind up getting what they deserved for them and you wind up in a better place. Led Zeppelin never did that for me.

  14. So I'm standing there at the potato seller's stall today trying to get a kilo of some good Yungay for 1.60 soles ($0.48 cents) and this old lady next to me looks up at my face and says, "Dame oro. Dame oro. Dame oro." Seriously? She had money, because she was shopping, just like me- and didn't ask anyone else for gold, just me. Would I be here buying potatoes if I were rich? Do I look like I have gold? I look Irish. You got the gold lady, and its your own people's corruption and greed that keeps poisoning your water- and that is what you get for it I suppose. But I didn't say anything, got my potatoes and left.

    Down the street I saw a young man with his face all bloody right next to a cafe I was thinking about entering, but it looked like a bunch of guys in business suits to me in there, so I didn't. The kid looked fucked up. Shocked. In pain. The blood wasn't fresh, but dried. All over his face. I wondered what happened and of course wanted to take a photo being the type of that I am, but then I didn't want to get my ass beat too. So I just walked on. But the more I think about it, the more that I think he must have been a Venezuelan. He looked pretty white to me, but Venezuelans can come in all colors. As soon as you start begging in this part of the country I think you are in for trouble. They tolerate you if you have money, but as soon as you don't and you aren't one of them, they want you the fuck out. That's what I got from it at least. I should have given him some oro to get on the next bus out of here. But like I said, I didn't really know what happened to him. Maybe he was just being a punk and got his punk card pulled.

    Anyway, its a different sort of people here, not Incas. When the Incas conquered them relatively late in history (1460) they took over 15,000 men away as slaves, but didn't really colonize the place as far as I know. And 15,000 people after a heated battle to the death is a lot of people already living here. It is the mouth to the jungle, a last great trading city before hard mountains and yellow fever and crocodiles- so maybe that has something to do with their genetic makeup too. When people made mistakes- like murdering someone in cold blood- what would often happen in tribal societies is that they were made outcasts and driven out of the community. And maybe many outcasts ended up here, I don't know. But there's a reason the Shining Path found this to be fertile ground in the souls and hearts of the people themselves I think.

  15. The Greatest RocknRoll song ever…..Thanks Bob your music helped me find my way in life…Though I didn’t realize it until many years later..When you got nothin you got nothin to loose….No direction home like a complete unknown like a Rolling Stone …..Thanks Bob

  16. So the apartment I rented for the week in the neighborhood of the mechanics has another bedroom and they rented it to a couple a few days ago. The owner assured me that I wouldn't have to share the kitchen and bathroom, but the door locks from their side, not mine and opens that direction too- which means they can get in anytime the want, but I'm locked out of their room. Then the landlady put a chair in front of the door- which doesn't even open this direction- when I voiced my concerns. There is a armoire with locking drawers, but no one seems able to find the keys.

    She also has a nice poodle who enjoys peeing and pooping right outside my door- which runs into the apartment and pools in the middle of the kitchen floor, and I had to listen to the dog cry and bark constantly for three hours yesterday while I was doing laundry because it was home alone – locked in the hallway. I really can't take it anymore. This is just all complete bullshit. I would rather be dead than living this endless nightmare.

  17. And I think I've picked up some kind of sinus infection to top it all off, again. While in Guadalajara last year I had the same sort of thing going on- except this time my bugars aren't just green, they are bloody. I didn't get a cold though, just green and bloody snot every day. I wondered if it is an early sign of tuberculosis, but that is questionable. The problem with long-distance buses is that they blow air on you that is taken from inside the cabin and recirculated,and that is where I think I picked it up from. Or the overcrowded buses and subways in Lima. Or the overcrowded combi whose assistant had his face in mine and had bad breath like he was fighting an infection. But at least I can write my own prescription for antibiotics here in Peru, however you got to watch out for fake drugs and expired ones.

  18. Can you imagine what the world would be like if you people used this same type of mentality everywhere? All the money would be fake and all the drugs and every grain of rice. Just because some are fake doesn't mean it all is. There's a lesson for you Little Schoolboy.

  19. You also think all those round stones with holes in them coming out of China are fakes, but it turns out that they were REAL motherfucker.

  20. Though I seem to have bad luck with Airbnbs the hotels that I can afford seem to be worse. Had to move from one hotel because they didn't have hot water, the door could be opened by sticking anything through the gap you could see light through in the door jam, and it also had old adobe brick structures right outside the window (part of the old building they never tore own but built on and around) which isn't good because of Chagas disease.

    So I moved to another hotel and the room they assured me was the quietest in the building had no glass at all (nor screen) in part of the window. Just spider webs. Though it was in the back of the building off the busy street on the fourth floor there was a huge pile of garbage on the next door neighbor's roof utterly spoiling any view, and I listened to a nearby dog bark for most of the night, someone knocking and whistling in the alleyway at 3AM to wake up someone else, and the street vendors who perch right at the end of the alleyway next to my window having a loud discussion at 6am. Then the buses and taxis started in honking. And I've got one weird bite on my hand that wasn't there yesterday. But at least I got a hot shower right?

    And so I started off at 7am this morning headed for the next town, and thought I could find a van going there at a smaller bus terminal south of town. But after trying unsuccessfully to ask schoolkids and bus assistants is they were going there, I ended up walking a mile and a half with two backpacks loaded with stuff. Taxi drivers can't understand me and then they always overcharge me. Then when I got there the bus station they told me there was no one going to that town or even that direction, and I had to go to the terminal I came in at on the north side of town. At that point I had HAD it, and started talking to myself and crying. With bloody bugars streaming down my face I flagged a mototaxi down and tried to explain where I wanted to go "Estación de autobús! Terminal Norte!!!" I told him repeatedly and even showed him a map on my phone of the location. When we left a crowd of Peruvians on the sidewalk were laughing and said some remark I didn't understand to the driver. Back down the crowded street full of honking buses and taxis I had just walked on foot we went, and when he got to and intersection 1/3 of the way there he told me it was a terminal and to get out. There was a lot for a specific bus company there, but not the one I wanted nor did it go the direction I wanted either. I told him no, that wasn't it, showed him the map and said the full name of the bus terminal again in Spanish, and he said to wait. He got out, walked off and disappeared. Luckily I managed to get a door open from the inside and just left, with the driver no where in sight. I probably should have paid him something, but I was pissed off and frustrated at that point.

    I instantly found a bus at that intersection the taxi driver walked off and left me at that had "Terminal" clearly written on its side and asked the assistant if they were going to the bus terminal. They did yes, and that is how I got the grand tour of Ayacucho Peru for $0.80 soles. Not one supermarket do they have but mercado after mercado (farmer's markets) and the two museums I had already visited, several churches and a whole lot of schoolkids, buses and taxis and air/noise pollution from them. Ayachuco means "death corner" in Quechua and I believe it's appropriately named.

    At one point The motor taxi driver asked- "no habla español?" And I want on and on in English telling him I do but no one understands a word I say, and that I just wanted to leave this fucking shithole- knowing full well he had no idea what I was saying about his homeland. Did you know that the entire city of 100,000 (probably closer to 200,000 though) typically has no water during the day? A little known fact, surely.

  21. And it turns out that no- I cannot get a bus to the small town with a well-rated but cheap hotel, but the only bus I could find going that direction (to Cusco) was to another larger town. Part of the reason I'm so unhappy is that I'm always stuck in cities without a car of my own. I think if I was in America and had to spend 6 months in a city without nature and clean air and water I would be quite unhappy about it too- so you can't just blame Peru for bring a shithole.

  22. And I say it's been six months in the city, but the month I spent on a beach in Ecuador was almost like the country- except every place I explored had a bunch of plastic trash and/or feces and toilet paper and was reduced to mainly weeds and the most virulent of natives, except the one little patch of jungle left with the jaguar in which I had trespassed on people's private land and ended up in a cesspool in someone's back yard by following signs that said "Ecológico Sendero".

  23. I fell in love with Bob and his songs when I was 15…over 45 years ago, and my friends and I still talk to each other using lines from his songs. Bob Dylan created a culture that fed open thinking, and we are all so grateful for that. WE LOVE BOB DYLAN!

  24. hey people…..even my grandbaby HANNAH 5yrs knows "THERE NOTHING BETTER THAN A BOB DYLAN SONG' well Bobby u now have 2 more god children….and my godchildren are mounting up…same with ur kids..an aunt/g/g/aunt stop breeding
    miss u see u soon ur touring here soon my love send lots of free tickets as usual loving you ANNIELEE

  25. Today I visited yet another archaeological site called Sondor- the first Inca site I've visited besides the holding cell of the last emperor Atahualpa in Cajamarca- though it was still in use for 300 years before the Inca by the Chanka culture. To get there I first had to take a combi van, but I had to find it first. I talked to several people in Spanish about it, and they understood me just fine and I understood them, so I don't know what was up with the taxi driver and people I asked directions from in the last town. But then I got dropped off near a lake in the next town and thought it would be simple to get a taxi or combi ride from there to the site. But no, the van drivers wouldn't pick me up and one even stopped, asked me where I was going, and said it was the on the other side of the lake and the road I was on didn't go there- after I was already a kilometer or two down it. Then he just kept driving down the road the direction I was headed without giving me a ride. Right after that I saw a sign for the archaeological area that said 5km and had an arrow pointing down the road the direction I was going. Then I was mad at him for not at least helping me out a little, but it was a nice day and at least I had some roadside weeds, cattle, plowed fields and adobe houses to look at while I played my flute and sang a couple songs mainly about my two feet and ten toes. All the vans that passed me looked full, and the ones that didn't passed when I was almost there. So I just kept walking- 4 1/2 miles or more I walked, from one end of a lake to another and up the entire valley to a ridge where the site was. The last mile or so up the hillside I got mad at all the cars passing me with all the dust and the lazy people inside, and one truck swerved towards me to avoid a rock and I had to waive my arms to avoid being ran over or having to jump off the side of the hill. Then when I finally made it to the site I almost couldn't believe they wanted to charge me money to walk on God's earth. After all that? And you want money? For what I still wonder.

    There were no bathrooms and looking at the few places left with any vegetation that thier livestock hadn't sheared down to less than 1 inch tall- I found a lot of human feces and toilet paper. Then right next to the "pyramid" was another hilltop even higher that had just recently been burned. That coupled with smoke from fires on distant mountains and the valley next door just made me sick. I walked away from the cheerful chirps of tourists after giving two girls hell for calling me a man who wanted me to take thier picture, and walked up to the top of the burned hill- between the archaeological site and Machu Picchu. There were more ruins there between thorny shrubs that had recently burned and pot shards everywhere. Artifacts 1,000 years old and people step on them, cows shit upon them, and they burned it all.

    I sat down and cried. People are the same everywhere. Stupid. Rapey. I mean I might as well have been back in Idaho as I looked at the hillside next to me terraced by so many hooves and eaten down to patchy stubble. Clouds started building in the distance. I was far enough away from the tourists and indigenous people trying to sell whatever they could to them so we had an angry conversation on that place up high, and right after that the sky became angry too and started talking.

    It was time to leave. I passed only one group of tourists with thier old traditionally dressed mother who were hiking to the top of the pyramid, and waited by the roadside. Vans passed but all going the other direction, even further into small communities hidden in the tall mountains. Finally a boy came over and said there was no cars that pass here, and told me to walk back down to the valley below. I tried to tell him how far I had walked already with a pastry I had been saving all day in my mouth. He was unimpressed by my hardship.

    Finally I got back down to the bigger road where vans turned around at going back into town and got a ride. Everyone in the van seemed happy, and made jokes I couldn't understand. I tried to be happy too as the skies started to rain.

    But when I got back to my hotel room the door was unlocked and the bathroom door was open. I'm sure I had closed it and locked the door before I had left when the power went out. The bathroom light was also on, and maybe I left one of the other lights in the main room on since the power was out- but not the bathroom. Luckily nothing was missing including my laptop hidden underneath my unmade bed covers, and because I always lock my fully loaded bigger pack that doesn't have room for the laptop, my credit card and identity information was safe and couldn't have been copied. What a fucking day though.

    And to top it all off I have a new huge insect bite on my arm which makes the one on my hand from the day before look like a mosquito bite. But they don't have mosquitoes here at this altitude. I once got a staff infection from an insect bite while camping in the woods and had streaks running up my arm from blood poisoning, so it's making me paranoid that they both continue to grow in size. The new bite didn't look that bad this morning, but now it's got puffy and red and bigger than a silver dollar. The hotel room is expensive for Peruvian standards too and almost normal, but in the bathroom above the shower there is a square black hole lined with unpainted brick and concrete as far as the eye can see. Where does it go? Why is it there? Was this thier replacement to a bathroom fan (which no place in Latin America ever has)? And who knows what lives there and crawls out at night. But I'm not dead yet and am getting used to 6 hours of sleep or less per night. I didn't even get really angry when I could hear some coked out bitch talking until after midnight next door last night, and then every footstep and door shut and shower running starting at 6 AM morning.

  26. I take that back, the "pyramid" yesterday was the fourth Inca site I've been to since I did see some building foundations, terraces and a replica of a womans' house in Quito and another site south of Lima which also had a womens' house made from adobe that was the best preserve out of any building there. What a long strange trip it's been!

  27. That comment below is sarcastic…right? Even Dylan called this song, these lyrics, ‘ Vomit’ …dude, this is just that..vomit.

  28. I find myself thinking about Bob- Bob Wood my Dad's old mining partner almost every day I travel in the mountains. When we got off the paved roads into the mountains Bob (who lived to be 96) would always unbuckle his seatbelt because he figured it would be better if you went off the side of the road to be thrown from the vehicle rather than be buckled in and tossed, turned and crushed until you hit the valley below. Here in Peru you would have a long trip to the bottom in most cases and the seatbelts are either non-existent or don't work right anyways. So I put my faith in Bob and God, and luckily we've only been sideswiped once thus far this trip.

    I always think it would be nice to have a car of my own and go wherever I want, but I don't think I would like to drive here at all. Most roads are two narrow lanes without a passing lane and sometimes it's a major road and still dirt, and so everyday I see my life flash before my eyes as we almost run head on with someone else while passing or are going too fast around a corner and almost roll. And when going around blind corners while passing they honk- like that makes it OK? And then you have huge speed bumps which slows no one down really, they just ruin people's shocks and make the whole ride jerkier. The more speed bumps they put in, the more the taxis and vans and buses have to gas it to make up for lost time at least in thier minds. I would hate to drive with them and be angry or scared all the time- even in the highest and most remote places there is a never ending stream of vans and buses full of people and slow trucks that block the lanes and make people's driving more erratic and dangerous.

    And the police, where are they? What do they do? Most of the time they set up road blocks and look for cocaine traffickers and other known criminals- that is when I've seen them outside of town, and inside town they tend to be on foot in a park or watching over intersections and/or directing traffic. Hard to pull anyone over if you don't have a car I'd imagine. Maybe they do have laws or regulations regarding traffic, but I don't see any getting enforced. They also like to put up signs saying "No tirar basura (Don't throw trash)" on roads where everyone throws trash- like that solved the issue. But at least they are aware there's a problem, right?

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