This post is not to curry favor with you, Dear Reader. It actually could make you want to cut and run from Voicing Light. But I have to get to the bottom of it--this thing that I rankle over when it comes to cliches. Why do I always feel that I have a bone to pick with them? When I started this exploration I felt fit as a fiddle, and now all I want is to have the last laugh on these semantic marauders.

For what it's worth, I think that they rarely hit pay dirt with their meaning. They are at their very worst in performance when used to put a band aid on sorrow. They have so tritely insinuated themselves into our speech that they are the proverbial snake in the grass to original thought. Also, I find it a really hit or miss thing to even get them right. So often I have tried to express how I bought a pig in a poke, only to end up with the pig poking me. It can be a sloppy mess.

Am I muddying the water? I want to be neat as a pin in saying that I slept like a log last night (Timber!), and awoke certain that I had to stand pat on this, or I might go mad as a hatter. No news is good news if all that can be said is a cliche.

Please, let's have no ill will, if this has only been idle chit chat I won't shed any crocodile tears, but will only ask that you allow me to pull myself up by my bootstraps and say what I mean:

"Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones." Proverbs 16:24

Right on! I shall now cut my banana onto my cereal having made this short story long.