The following text is an excerpt from Jeff Howe’s acceptance speech at the WSFTC Tiara Awards in London Thursday evening: 

“In the entire world of writing, there is no award so coveted, so career-altering, and so fulfilling as The Tiara.  This is because it is an award of the People (or at least one people) and is bestowed upon the recipient for excellence in butt-kissing and influence peddling.  When all of the furor and disharmony over EP’s and covers and Pulitzers and New York Times best-seller lists fades away, The Tiara remains as a beacon to all of what is possible.  I am proud and humbled to be PhotoShopped into it.

In accepting this prestigious award, I feel compelled to honor a number of artists, from whom I have gained enormous inspiration:

Robert Pirsig waxed philosophical and told stories of his life while sitting on his butt, whizzing through the landscape on a motorcycle.  Tom Waits never shied from reaching WAY-OUT-THERE for that adjective to make the stark look surreal. John McPhee took difficult ideas – especially science and geology – and made them come alive through patient, vivid imagery. James Michener crafted compelling histories from prehistory to post. Jack London’s life as a struggling artist, as told by Irving Stone in “Sailor On Horseback”, is both a beacon and a cautionary tale.  And who could not tip the hat to Mark Twain and George Carlin – arguably the most quotable individuals of the past two centuries.

And there are others: Rod Serling, The Bread Man, Fat Frankie, Barry Bonds, Einstein's hammock, Old Baxter, Laurie Anderson, the Left Rev. Aloysius P. Schmittmacher, Bill Bryson, Sweet Old Burt, W. P. Kinsella, Dr. Seuss, the idiot but well-meaning dog, and, of course, the fabulous exploding baby.

I would also have to salute Mr. John Batsakis, my fifth grade teacher, who was the consummate story teller.  He showed me at an early age that one could be a lovable, easily distracted, attention-deficit knucklehead and be proud of it.  And of course, my daughter, who continues to push me to come up with really stupid ideas and to “say something goofy”.  (It’s a gift.)  She is my best audience.

But most especially, I salute those of you out there who have taken the chance and have moved your mouse over to designate me as a “favorite”.   It is you that I’m thinking of when I post because I know that it is upon your desktop that my next posting will land.  My goal is to make that moment feel like Christmas, each and every time. 

And of course, to Will Someone Feed The Cat - the Alfred Nobel of OS – and without whom this honor would never exist.  As if it weren’t needed, my selection is proof that constant, consistent, well-placed brown-nosing can get you everywhere in this world. 

I promise to always wear my Tiara proudly: rakishly encircling my bald spot and cocked ever-so-slightly sideways like a raspberry beret.

Thank you….”

(He breaks into tears, sobs uncontrollably like Glenn Beck, and is escorted, pathetically, off stage on the arm of a large, stunning blonde, muttering: "It's mine!  It's all mine!....................)