There is a platitude or cliché to cover every aspect of life, from cradle to grave. ‘One born every minute’ to ‘the final nail in the coffin.’ Thought-terminating clichés, also known as ‘mind-stoppers’, are used to discourage meaningful debate about a given topic, such as, “Are you blind, ref?”
Oft-repeated phrases lose their original meaning or effect to the point of becoming ludicrous or irritating. “Take the bull by the horns.” Don’t try that at home, children, even if you live above a china shop. And if there’s no time like the present, why bother to wear a watch? Ignorance may be bliss, but when the physician operating on you has been struck off for incompetence, remind yourself that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Let’s hope that applies to your brain surgeon. Ouch.
Some clichés are frankly bonkers, they don’t have any rhyme or reason. Which is the wrong side of the bed to get up from? What is this box we are advised to think outside of? Can you name the specific actions that speak louder than words? Also, let’s face it, a wolf would look pretty silly dressed in sheep’s clothing, unless he wanted to act the giddy goat, and even then he might simply be laughed out of the chicken coop.
Ask a meteorologist if he knows of any climatic conditions whereby the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, and a puzzled frown will cloud his expression. Not that some commonplaces don’t try to appear helpful. “Play your cards right,” they advise us, not bothering to describe methods by which that might be successful, especially in poker.
The poet Gerard de Nerval once said, “The first man who compared a woman to a rose was a poet, the second was a plagiarist.” Nerval had a pet lobster which he walked at the end of a blue silk ribbon, until his suicide after several painful breakdowns, so I’m not sure he can be trusted. If you sleep on a bed of roses, make sure all the thorns have been removed.
A closed mouth gathers no feet, but I’m going to chance a prediction. I believe all the old chestnuts and bromides we use in everyday language will eventually atrophy — further atrophy — and disappear from use. What goes around will no longer come around, is what I’m saying. All won’t be well that ends well. A moveable feast will revert to being a takeaway. We’ll be able to have our cake and eat it too.
It is not now true, after all, that there are plenty of fish in the sea, it’s a different kettle of depleted fish these days. And reading between the lines, I believe we will all live happily ever after, once we invent some new platitudes. You know it makes sense. It’s not rocket science. And if I’m wrong, well, a miss is as good as a mile.
