This is the lamest, most nitpickiest thing to bitch about, but I need to put the old B.A. to use now and again and I really have been irked by common phrases of late. While dissecting cliché and idiomatic platitudes with literalist analysis is like shooting fish in a barrel ... oh crap, add another one to the list ... I just can't help it lately.
Shooting fish in a barrel. Presumably this so easy to do, it isn't sporting. But for starters, as anyone who read Gary Paulsen's Hatchet in fifth grade will tell you, the refraction of light by water makes it very difficult to aim accurately -- one will always be shooting at the fish tails, which might cause a grievous wound, but that's hardly a kill shot. Second, fish, in water, are very fast. They dart about. It's how they avoid predators. While bullets also travel quite quickly, our trigger fingers need to be honed with constant practice to be that fast, and if you're that good, I guess you can go ahead and shoot fish in a lake. Third, after one shot, there's going to be a hole in that barrel, and the water will drain out, and the remaining fish will expire in a floppy mass of fish flesh. Fourth, any fish small enough to swim around in a barrel would be torn to shreds, and thus completely inedible, from even the smallest standard calibre bullet. Fifth, if you have managed to get the fish into the barrel, you have already won the battle between man and fish. Put the gun down.
A picture is worth 1,000 words. This has the smack of "the pen is mightier than the sword" (which, incidentally, I have no issue with), saying that a picture is a succinct way to tell a complex story. Sadly, it is often employed by journalists, who, of all people, should know that 1,000 words isn't that much. What, three double-spaced pages? A short feature story or longish opinion column? One-page of magazine real estate? If 1,000 words is already a succinct discussion of a complex topic, and you assume a picture worthy of this phrase would need to occupy at least 1/3 of a page to have any impact, then what this really means is that a picture is worth three columns. But it isn't. Because a picture needs a caption for context at the very least, and usually accompanies 1,000 words or so in order to get the story fully told. Was this coined in the era when photographs were first being faithfully reproduced? Because even then, I assert that a decent writer could describe the same visual scene as the picture in no more than 400 words, about the same amount of real estate the picture will eat. What a picture is really worth is 1,000 eyeballs, because it has a much stronger attention-grabbing impact than text, but that's not how this phrase is used. This phrase simultaneously infers the superiority of illiterate media and devalues the currency of 1,000 words and so as a writer I say to this phrase fuck off.
More fun than a barrel full of monkeys. Yeah, right, as if that wouldn't end in blood and tears. And what's with all the barrels? Shouldn't there be beer in them? Get the fish and monkeys out of there, people.
Don't throw the baby out with the bath water. At first blush, sensible advice, and a powerful enjoinder not to toss something extremely valuable away for the sake of getting rid of something that's used up. However, and this is key, babies don't fit down drains. There is no danger to the baby. I realize that this cliche originated in times when bath water must have been tossed into castle garderobes or something, but therein lies the issue. This phrase at least should be updated to reflect the realities of modern plumbing, if not completely overhauled into something equally punchy but even more vivid, like don't throw the baby out with the soiled Baby Bjorn.
The bee's knees. Meaning something great or an excellent example of something. A knee is a hard, bone-built joint in the leg that is both structurally strong and impressively cushioned to withstand the pressures of walking. Now look at this crumpled little bee knee that's so lame it doesn't even get labeled in a scientific diagram and I rest my case.
Open a can of worms. This one is used to express regret that a thorny issue has been breached. First of all, what, we can't keep worms in barrels? But more importantly, did we need the worms? Like, were the worms necessary in order to go fishing, or to feed a pet robin, or to kickstart a new composting project in the yard garden? Because if the can of worms was being opened for a specific reason, then don't bitch about it the fact that it was opened. Grab a worm or dump the lot into the appropriate place and move on with your day. If, however, the can was opened inadvertently or accidentally, as the usage of the phrase implies, just put the lid back on. Worms don't move very quickly, and they certainly don't leap about. It should be a fairly simple thing to contain them, as they are already in a container, albeit on with a lid ajar. Saran wrap and a rubber band ought to solve the accident. People use this expression to signal that the worst mess possible has just been created, when in fact there's no cleaner or more long-lasting way to store worms than in a tin can. Perhaps what we mean is he opened up a can of worms and then pulled a fistful of them out and shoved them down my blouse, in which case, yes, no second date.
Cat got your tongue? This is simply terrifying and random. Do cats do this? I already have 653 reasons not to own a cat, but if this is part of cat ownership, let me know so I can make it 654. I already know they occasionally sit on sleeping faces and nearly suffocate their owners, but this seems a bit too aggressive and premeditated, even for nature's barely domesticated ninja assassin species. It's usually used when a person is struck dumb within the flow of conversation, in which case the interlocuter should be clearly able to see whether or not a cat is dangling from the other fellow's tongue, making it an entirely unnecessary inquiry. (Or did this originate due to the telephone, when, in the early days, farmers yapping to one another were routinely assaulted by barn kitties?) It would make more sense for something invisible and plausible were substituted for the cat, like ebola.
She was all over him like a cheap suit. I think this is a misplaced transitive property, because it's usually used when a woman, typically less-than-desirable, is clinging to a fellow at a bar. Thus the cheap? But the thing is, very expensive suits also cover every part of the body, often in a more thorough way than cheap suits. Colorful, but stupid. Simply using "cologne" would work so much better.
Do I have more? Yes, I have more, many more, but at some point this exercise becomes as tedious as the day is long (24 units of tediousness?) so I'll shut up now and just note that my day was so boring, I had the mental energy to think of stuff like this, which is one step away from diagramming sentences on the back of an O-Pee-Chee folder (flashback to Introductory Floral Botany complete) and if you have any pity to spare for my first-world problems, feel sorry for a guy who works in an office during the Thanksgiving holiday because he didn't save enough vacation days to play hooky like the rest of the known world.
Now where did I put that book of dirty crossword puzzles?
/https%3A%2F%2Fassets.over-blog.com%2Ft%2Fcedistic%2Fcamera.png)