Do you think he was fucking with them

Not plagiarism

I just can't take them seriously anymore.

cause if they apepar int he book then maybe both sparknotes and dylan were independently basing their analysis on the text. since they dont appear int he book it means dylan was cribbing sparknotes

The seemingly arbitrary choice of Bob Dylan as Nobel laureate is hard to understand unless you're Swedish. On many levels we're obsessed with America, which is where most of our entertainment media comes from. For instance there's a working class subculture of vintage American cars and rockabilly that's existed for decades. People pay more attention to the US election than our own. But back to the point, the tightly knit and insular intelligentsia also have an obsession with Americana, specifically Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen, whose perceived authenticity appeals to the aging hipster living in Stockholm's Södermalm.

why didn't they give the prize to bruce springsteen he's way less edgy and pseudo-intellecutal

he has many good songs

"There must be some way out of here" said the joker to the thief
"There's too much confusion", I can't get no relief
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth.

"No reason to get excited", the thief he kindly spoke
"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late".

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.

Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.

or

Once upon a time you dressed so fine
Threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?
People call say 'beware doll, you're bound to fall'
You thought they were all kidding you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hanging out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging your next meal
How does it feel, how does it feel?
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone
Ahh you've gone to the finest schools, alright Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
Nobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street
And now you're gonna have to get used to it
You say you never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And say do you want to make a deal?
How does it feel, how does it feel?
To be on your own, with no direction home
A complete unknown, like a rolling stone
Ah you never turned around to see the frowns
On the jugglers and the clowns when they all did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on a chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discovered that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal
How does it feel, how does it feel?
To have on your own, with no direction home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone

Oh look his two most well known songs. You uncultured plebs should try actually listening to some of this guy's fucking music. Try My Back Pages, Hurricane, One More Cup of Coffee, Shelter From the Storm, Precious Angel, Jokerman, Neighborhood Bully, I Pity the Poor Immigrant, The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest, Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues, Bob Dylan's 115th Dream, World War III Blues, Lay Lady Lay or Property of Jesus.
Then tell me the fucker can't write.

Too fucking funny. Sweden's literati debases the world's highest honor in literature and awards it to a rockstar with progressive politics who was popular when they were teenagers. He in turn ignores them for weeks, finally gives them boilerplate recognition (through a third party), and later delivers them a plagiarized ninth grade book report, handed in at the last possible minute so he could still collect the prize money

This picture is so fucking dumb, even the rest of the lyrics of that very song is damn good writing:

The man in me will do nearly any task
And as for compensation, there's little he would ask
Take a woman like you
To get through to the man in me

Storm clouds are raging all around my door
I think to myself I might not take it any more
Take a woman like your kind
To find the man in me

But, oh, what a wonderful feeling
Just to know that you are near
Sets my a heart a-reeling
From my toes up to my ears

The man in me will hide sometimes to keep from bein' seen
But that's just because he doesn't want turn into some machine
Took a woman like you
To get through to the man in me

So what's everyones favorite Dylan? Mines his "I'm done being a political poster boy" song My Back Pages:

Crimson flames tied through my ears, rollin' high and mighty traps
Pounced with fire on flaming roads using ideas as my maps
"We'll meet on edges, soon, " said I, proud 'neath heated brow
Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now

Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth, "rip down all hate, " I screamed
Lies that life is black and white spoke from my skull, I dreamed
Romantic facts of musketeers foundationed deep, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now

Girls' faces formed the forward path from phony jealousy
To memorizing politics of ancient history
Flung down by corpse evangelists, unthought of, though somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then. I'm younger than that now

A self-ordained professor's tongue too serious to fool
Spouted out that liberty is just equality in school
"Equality, " I spoke the word as if a wedding vow
Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now

In a soldier's stance, I aimed my hand at the mongrel dogs who teach
Fearing not that I'd become my enemy in the instant that I preach
My existence led by confusion boats, mutiny from stern to bow
Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now

Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats too noble to neglect
Deceived me into thinking I had something to protect
Good and bad, I defined these terms quite clear, no doubt, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then I'm younger than thatnow

>give a nonwriter a literary prize
>he doesn't write the acceptance speech

what else did you expect?

The Jew features only come out when they get old. Jews can look Aryan when they are young, but the mask goes away.

damn, that's what he looks like now?

the fucker cant write.

is this irony

THIS all day, american pop culture IS european culture, especially in the smaller nations. also something not in your first langauge can seem a little 'deeper' than it really is

>Oh look his two most well known songs
and....?