THE
STORY BEHIND
|
The
Cocksker is synonymous with Hollywood.
Everyone in the film industry dreams of winning one, or two,
or three Cockskers. Millions of viewers of the televised awards also
dream of winning the award. They
imagine what it would be like to go up to the podium and become, for
a few seconds, the king or queen of the world.
If you are lucky enough to win one, for real, then you have reached
the pinnacle of success. The world is your fucking oyster. However,
there is another side to the Cocksker that remains hidden from the public. Hollywood is a town that demands a person to EARN their rewards.
Pity the poor actor who wins a Cocksker for their first film.
In most cases the poor young actor will become a pariah. The most coveted of awards becomes, instead, a kiss of death.
In many
instances the Cocksker award becomes a huge burden to those who win
it. Their careers usually take a nosedive, at least for a few years.
If they are resilient, or have great agents, or remain humble
enough, they may be awarded the prize in the future as a token to their
ability to survive in the shark infested waters of Hollywood. Many of
those who are nominated but do not win will not fair much better.
There have been several Cocksker nominees who, sometimes in the
distant future, commit suicide, their careers having slid into a place
called obscurity. Their names
are barely mentioned in the trade papers.
Someone
once said those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.
Everyone who succeeds in Hollywood has amnesia. Do not remind the powerful of fame’s fleeting
grasp. In a town like Hollywood,
negativity is the most dangerous of emotions. Forget all the dead and the dying. Keep smiling and just play the game. The following
story might put the Cocksker’s myth in perspective. One of
Hollywood’s most beloved movie stars had retired in the 1930’s after
having won a Cocksker. He spent the next twenty-odd years wasting
away in his Hollywood hills mansion.
He spent most of his days drinking and dreaming of the old days. One evening,
while cruising Hollywood Boulevard, the old movie star picked up two
young girls. They accompanied him back to his home. Once there, the girls began fighting the old
man. One of them struck him
with a vase worth $20,000. As
he lay semi-conscious, the girls picked up his Cocksker and brought
it down on his head, completely crushing it in the process.
They then proceeded to rip open a wider hole in his neck, where
his head had once been, then they forced the head of the Cocksker down
into his chest cavity. Cocksker
and actor had become one. When notified
of the murder, the old actor’s agent immediately called the Chairman
of the Board of Directors of the Cocksker Awards.
He, in turn, called the Mayor of L.A. and the Chief of Police
and convinced them that to divulge the Cocksker’s involvement in the
vicious homicide would only put a pall over the award and the award’s
upcoming telecast. The powers-that-be agreed. Therefore,
when the murder was made public, no mention was ever made of the Cocksker. The old actor had been bludgeoned to death.
That was
almost the end of the story. The two
girls were caught, tried (as juveniles) and spent a few years in juvenile
detention. The dead
old actor was tried in the press as a dirty old man that got what he
deserved and his memory became a small footnote in Hollywood’s history.
He had been, in his heyday, the biggest movie star for two years
in a row. All glory
is fleeting. Remember
that as you climb the podium for your Cocksker. |
