Jump up, jump up, and shot down

Dear sirs:

We have received your letter protesting our announcement of the 2009 Nobel Prize in Literature. We regret to inform you that our decision is final. We recognize that it can be frustrating when your work is not selected. We are happy to respond to your query regarding why your Club song "Shots" did not merit this award, while other work that you consider similar did.

First, the committee does not agree with what you regard as innovative and brilliant use of repetition. We do recognize that repetition can be an effective literary technique, dating back to Beowulf. However, repetition (an effective literary technique dating back to Beowulf) can quickly become annoying without underlying novelty or wit. You allege that you used repetition more cleverly than the song "Jump Around." We disagree, and stand by our decision to award House of Pain the 2008 Nobel Prize. In that song, they wrote:


I came to get down
I came to get down
So get out your seats and jump around
Jump around
Jump around
Jump around
Jump up Jump up and get down
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
Jump
I'll serve your ass like John MacEnroe
If your steps up, I'm smacking the ho
Word to your moms I came to drop bombs
I got more rhymes than the bible's got psalms
And just like the Prodigal Son I've returned
Anyone stepping to me you'll get burned
Cause I got lyrics and you ain't got none
So if you come to battle bring a shotgun


We identified several compelling elements here. One was the directional juxtaposition between "jump up" and "get down." The second resulted from the masterful missives to "jump" 18 times in the quoted text, and later 32. This phrasing inspired tens of millions of young clubgoers to jump as instructed, with the helpful clarification of the appropriate jumping direction. However, we noticed that their enthusiasm waned after about the 20th jump, with some of the more self-aware acolytes becoming fatigued and confused. Hence, the evocative and insightful use of repetition exposed the dichotomy between youthful enthusiasm and dawning self-consciousness. This phenomenon seems culturally independent, having been noted when their work is recited in Club Tremors in San Diego, Babyrock in Tijuana, Die Glocke in Bremen, The Catwalk Club in Barcelona, Raw Fusion here in Stockholm, and Club Merano in Graz. In contrast, your song repeats "shots" far too quickly and often for the most ardent alcoholic, and is thus neither actionable nor didactic. Finally, their subsequent text contains stirring Biblical allusions, and even rhymes. Yours does not.

Your second and related objection stems from your rephrased directive to consume shots, and your view that such elaboration has been favored by the Committee in prior awards. We again disagree. We did indeed award Nobel Prizes to Jessica Simpson for her perspicacious pleonasm "It's a private joke / just between us" and Tiffany's remade "I think we're alone now / there doesn't seem to be anyone around." These examples differ substantively from yours in that they were written by attractive women.

Your third concern stems from your view that we did not appreciate your references to bodily functions. We are well aware that this can be considered a mature and engaging literary technique. Indeed, Rabelais is widely recognized as a literary genius, and half his work involves poop jokes. You are also correct that we awarded Nobel Prizes to several other songs with comparable themes, such as:


"Young, black and famous
With money hangin'
Out the anus"

--Puff Daddy and Mase's 'Can't Nobody Hold Me Down'


"I ain't never seen
An ass like that
The way you move it
You make my pee-pee go
'Doing-doing-doing'"

--Eminem, Ass Like That

The difference between your work and that of the above Laureates stems from efforts to assess veractiy. We admit there was some controversy here. Some of us disagreed with the former award, because it is not true; Puff Daddy is not young. We were further unable to verify the causal relationship between any specific badonkadonk and Eminem's reaction. However, efforts to validate a recurring theme in your song resulted in significant frustration and embarrassment within our prize committee. Your song alleged that "The ladies love us / when we pour shots / they need an excuse / to suck our cocks" and, later, "their panties hit the ground every time I give 'em shots." Two of our male Committee Members went to Club "Alkoholistbarn" here in Stockholm, motivated of course only by their professional responsibility to validate your claim. One of them spent four hours and 50 euros on a young literary enthusiast who then went home with someone else. The second did succeed in getting an aspiring writer back to his apartment, but failed to elicit the expected reaction. Instead, she vomited on him and his new fur rug. Your lyrics failed to adumbrate this prospect. Our esteemed Committee Member was further humiliated upon learning that she was in fact the grand niece of a city council member, and was already dating an esteemed member of the Committee to select the Nobel Prize in Physics. These two outcomes did not satisfy our two members, nor the Committee Members to whom they are attached.

In conclusion, your work does differ from that of other awardees, and did not cross the threshold for an award. We encourage you to continue your literary efforts, and perhaps consider that, unlike you, Bob Dylan never even got nominated.

Med vänliga hälsningar,
A mysterious gaggle of Swedes