Poetasters, dirty politicians, and other liars soil the cosmos. Exposing them remains in my toolkit. I read charlatans so you don't have to!


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Introduction and Text of "Identity"

Julio Noboa Polanco's piece of doggerel, titled "Identity," has become an Internet favorite; unfortunately, this clumsy verse employs the use of hyperbole that results in nonsense. The purpose of exaggeration is to emphasize the characteristic of some entity or event, not to pervert the subject into something it is not. For example, one’s thoughts may be hyperbolically expressed as soaring like an eagle. But if one places those thoughts in the mind of a weed clinging to a cliff, the possibility of flight becomes impossible. That ludicrous comparison appears in the second versagraph of this poem: "I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed, / clinging on cliffs, like an eagle / wind-wavering above high, jagged rocks."


The theme of the piece centers on the very human and admirable desire for freedom and individuality. The speaker, therefore, is asserting that unlike all the misguided souls who choose to live a disciplined life, this speaker proudly announces that he prefers to remain a rowdy rebel, but the speaker unfortunately chooses to compare himself and his compatriots to plants. The desire for freedom precludes the desire to be an entity that is rooted to ground.

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A perverted kind of appropriateness is afloat in the fact that the versagraphs remain uneven in the pretend poem. Technical skill as well as logic are both severely lacking in the Internet sensation.


Identity

Let them be as flowers, always watered, fed, guarded, admired, but harnessed to a pot of dirt.

I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed, clinging on cliffs, like an eagle wind-wavering above high, jagged rocks.

To have broken through the surface of stone, to live, to feel exposed to the madness of the vast, eternal sky. To be swayed by the breezes of an ancient sea, carrying my soul, my seed, beyond the mountains of time or into the abyss of the bizarre.

I'd rather be unseen, and if then shunned by everyone, than to be a pleasant-smelling flower, growing in clusters in the fertile valley, where they're praised, handled, and plucked by greedy, human hands.


I'd rather smell of musty, green stench than of sweet, fragrant lilac. If I could stand alone, strong and free, I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed.

Reading of "Identity"


Commentary

In Julio Noboa Polanco's "Identity," the expression of the heartfelt desire for freedom and individuality remains shrouded behind mixed metaphors and the inappropriate use of hyperbole.

First Movement: Ludicrous Dichotomy and Mixed Metaphor

Let them be as flowers, always watered, fed, guarded, admired, but harnessed to a pot of dirt.

I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed, clinging on cliffs, like an eagle wind-wavering above high, jagged rocks.

The speaker concocts a perverted dichotomy between himself and his fellows, whom he identifies merely as "them." Leaving those others, "them," unidentified, however, the speaker takes as his task to castigate those who do not agree with his particular brand of freedom philosophy.

The speaker's opening lines mix a metaphor of flower and horse. Those other people, whom the speaker disdains, are like well-kept flowers in a flower pot, but he says they are "harnessed to a pot of dirt." Horses are harnessed, not flowers. His mixed metaphor betrays the piece as nonsense. Mixed metaphors cannot communicate accurately, as the blending creates only confusion and disorder.


The first part of the dichotomy is the flower, and the second is a weed; thus, the speaker is trying to convince his readers that being a weed is better than being a flower. He claims that he prefers to be a big ugly weed, and he likens that ugly weed, which also lives fastened to dirt just as the flower in a pot does, to an eagle. The absence of logic here is breathtaking: eagles fly, plants do not! It matters not that the plant lives admired in a pot or grows out on the prairie unseen by anyone; neither will ever takes wings and fly away as the eagle definitely will. Again, a mixed metaphor, here expressed as a simile, has resulted in nothing but confusion.


Second Movement: The Curse of Postmod Gibberish

To have broken through the surface of stone, to live, to feel exposed to the madness of the vast, eternal sky. To be swayed by the breezes of an ancient sea, carrying my soul, my seed, beyond the mountains of time or into the abyss of the bizarre.

The speaker then offers a series of infinitives, "to have broken," "to feel," "to live," and "to be swayed." The first infinitive describes the action of a saxifrage, a plant that has burst through some hard surface like concrete or "stone." The speaker offers no context for such an action, which does not appropriately describe any action a human being might take.

But the speaker seems to think that breaking through that stony surface will allow him "to live." And apparently to him, living is being "exposed to the madness / of the vast eternal sky." Tell that to victims of tornadoes, hurricanes, and other severe, devastating storms that maim and kill. Far from allowing him to live, that "madness" could kill him instead.


In a vague, meaningless, and stupendously absurd claim, the speaker asserts that he would like his "soul" and his "seed" to be carried by the winds of "an ancient sea" to some "abyss of the bizarre" which apparently exists "beyond the mountains of time." Again, the attempt at hyperbole remains nonsensical. If he is a weed, his seed may be carried far and wide by the wind. But trying to make the places where that seed might land into "an ancient sea" "beyond the mountains of time" creates a vagueness that remains unrealizable.

The "abyss of the bizarre" opens the hyperbolic sailing on the wind to the level of an absurd abstraction. The poetaster is obviously striving to sound profound but fails to even offer an image that can be perceived.

Third Movement: Confusion and Contradiction

I'd rather be unseen, and if then shunned by everyone, than to be a pleasant-smelling flower, growing in clusters in the fertile valley, where they're praised, handled, and plucked by greedy, human hands.


There appears to be a structural error in the opening line in the movement. The "and if" seems to be dangling, offering no meaning and only confusing what the speaker is trying to say. Perhaps he means "or," but actually omitting the phrase might enhance meaning somewhat.

The speaker has already claimed he would prefer to be a weed growing wild and free than to be a plant in a pot. Now the speaker claims he would prefer to be invisible than to be a "pleasant-smelling flower" even if that flower is growing in a "fertile valley." This claim throws a ridiculous contradiction into the mix. He preferred to a weed to a flower in a pot because the weed is out growing somewhere in nature. But now he's denigrating even flowers that grow wild.


Fourth Movement: A Stinky Weed

I'd rather smell of musty, green stench than of sweet, fragrant lilac. If I could stand alone, strong and free, I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed.

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The speaker has now returned to his desire to be a weed—and a stinky weed at that. He would prefer to stink and "stand alone" than to be a sweet smelling lilac. He fancies that those ugly, tall, stinky weeds have more freedom than sweet-smelling flowers that human beings enjoy. The notion is ludicrous. A weed does not, in fact, possess more freedom, nor is it stronger, than a flower.

Of course, everyone prefers to live as a being who possesses strength and freedom. Thus, this would-be poet’s instinct for freedom is well-grounded and even admirable, but unfortunately his execution of this poem remains a hyperbolic disaster.