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Praise for text is an Award without a Prize, an honourary mention. Its value, if you can find any, lies entirely within the symbolic realm. The name of the “recipient” of the Pft award is announced on this website, and that's pretty much it. Nobody has to do anything. The “winner” doesn't even have to be alive! Because, this is only about bringing joy, to current and future generations.

Starting this year, the Pft will be “awarded” once a year, sometimes on Saint Greg's Feast (March 12, the TRUE date), in honour of the fictional Gregor Samsa, the unhappy Bug,* who so eloquently points out to the reader that misery awaits the human race unless we quit crawling through life without the self-respect that comes naturally to the discerning citizen.

Fanfare.

This year, we “award” the Pft to ...

Drum roll.

... Philip K Dick, smart guy, no presentation needed. And also to Epictetus, the stoic; a wonderful man, read him if you haven't—born a slave, or born free, that's pretty much a matter of insight.

Splash cymbal.

God keeps blessing us all, and our little countries, the same way that He blesses this amazing planet and the twinkling stars above us.

Snacks.

* Well, on this day we remember music's patron Saint as well, not only Kafka's bugly guy. Surely, saint Greg (“the great”) did a lot of bad things, even before becoming pope-in-command ... but at least fighting the Lombard invaders must have made sense to some Romans at the time.

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