Metaphors like Giant Bouncing Balls

Thanks for the title Mr. Kosman. But alas, I am not poking fun at you. Instead, I would like to turn to Mark Swed, who has chronic metaphor and coherence spasms, a perfectly common neurological disorder (see here).

Mark reviewed a solo concert by Lang Lang, at L.A.’s Disney Hall.

The audience was antsy, wanting fireworks, and Lang Lang eventually delivered. First, though, he had to prove he was a poet.

By reciting, in Greek, an original poem on the subject of nuclear love.

He is a poet.


But he is an immature poet with a nuclear arsenal, and that makes him a very dangerous poet.


Would you care to clear this one up for us, Mark?

The nuclear part of the weaponry is a killer technique.

Uh, and...?

The threat is in the delivery system.


He has the charisma to hold an audience in his power.

This is still part of the same paragraph, and he is still qualifying “immature poet,” I think.

Responsibility, though, is another matter.

Yes. Yes, I suppose it is.

Yeah! New paragraph!

The first half of Tuesday's recital was refined, elegant and verged on the eloquent. It began with Mozart's B-flat Sonata, K. 333, played with delicacy. Then Schumann's large Fantasy in C brought out ardor. In both pieces, Lang Lang skimmed the surface. But the surfaces he created were flawless.

I think Swed is insinuating that Lang lacked depth. Fine.

Not every lake is best appreciated by jumping in.


But it’s okay Lang doesn’t have depth, because he’s a nuclear threat, which trumps charisma and responsibility, at least for poet-pianists.

I have no idea what he’s saying. In fact, I have no idea what I’m saying anymore. So, I give up. I’m done.


I lied. I would like to point out that this was printed in the L.A. Times. Thank you.

No, really. Thank you. I mean it. Thank you. Thank you so much. I am a better person, now. Because of the article. And how good it was. Seriously. It was good. Thanks. Poets. Wow. I'm amazed at how much I learned. Really. It was good. Very good. So good I am a better person. Thanks a lot. I super-really mean it, tools.

No. Big rubber balls.


AnthonyS said...

My life is just a little bit better every time you guys do Swed.


Joshua Kosman said...

You're welcome, of course, but — why? I don't remember ever using that piquant phrase, and I can't find it online anywhere. Wish I had, though, it's good.

Sator Arepo said...

I am insanely confused. Are we all dead? Was there a nuclear war? Wow. What?

Empiricus said...

You're right. Eroica's opening chords were like "big rubber balls." Forgive my colorful, and apt, exaggeration.

By the way, keep up the good, toting-the-Detritus-line make-fun-ability work. Seriously.

Aaron said...

The Nuclear Poets = good band name.