I decided to go to Bob Dylan’s 2019 concert in Mankato because…well…I’ve lived in this state for quite a while and never had anything to do with one of it’s most famous sons. I should do it, I told myself. At least once. Just get it over with. After all, Bob had said at one point he was saved, so how dark could it possibly be? Besides, I knew a lot of his songs by then and did not find any that would cause me to say ‘woah Nelly’. Well, other than LARS…but I had made peace with it by that time…or so I thought…
So I blithely embarked on a trip south, on a gorgeous fall day, everything in color but just past its peak, so the glow of golden leaves was there, you just knew it wasn’t going to last much longer. A vicious wind from the north would dash them all to the ground before long…
But that didn’t matter. I was on a quest, of sorts. Or so I thought…
What really happened, it seems, was that I had opened a Pandora’s Box…
Now that it’s wide open, and it looks like I have been threatened into silence not only by Bob himself, but by his alter-ego “Zeus”, I can say with some authority that Dylan is apparently supposed to be untouchable…and if you, for any reason, run afoul of him and his agendas, you will end up dealing not only with him, but with his machine. I call it that because it is somehow bigger than Dylan. It appears to provide the myth, the cover, for his agendas to continue.
But that’s a long story in itself…for later.
As you can see from my poem, I was pleasantly surprised at the concert, the audience, and his voice, which was not in dire shape as so many had warned me about. Well, it may have been cushioned and amped by all kinds of technology, and you couldn’t really hear the words, but it was nice and not grating…
But then the bottom began to fall out…so many things I thought I understood I discovered I did not…
Chicanery, avarice, betrayal, all quickly came into view. My rabbi and his wife, who told me about Dylan’s gospel albums, had really been feeding me to the wolves, for one. I gradually realized they may have known more than I did all along…
So here we are today…I live in Utter Dylerium while he prepares to go on tour with R+RW, which contains songs with inside information about me and my family (among other things, of course) to try to tell his insiders — I call them Dylinquints — how to track and try to hunt me down.
Here’s just one example…
Of course, this has been going on for quite some time — with the Key songs and the Nightingale songs — (more in another post later) — with no success…but oh well, here we go again…
Someone said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. Dylan’s obsessive nightingale hunt certainly fits that definition…
Dylagence 