Recently, for fun, I’ve been taking offence at everyday sayings that make no sense.
I had a small, impromptu rant the other day about the phrase ‘You’re a star’. I realised that really, I’m not. I didn’t appreciate being likened to a big, burning ball of flame that was located hundreds of light years away from Earth. Were they calling me a loner? A hot loner? How is it a compliment? Looking at it from a purely factual point of view, it’s quite offensive. Due to the way light travels through the empty vacuum of space, they’re probably inferring that I’m actually more than likely dead.
I’d prefer something much more personal – “You’re like my favourite cup”, or something. Something I can relate to. Obviously I wouldn’t like it if the person who said this proceeded to pour tea in me and drink it from a hole in my head, but I can appreciate the sentiments behind it. They like that cup – it’s done them well over the years, as have I. I’m helpful, useful, and familiar. It may even have a witty, likeable phrase on it. The kind of cup that would share in-jokes with you, if it wasn’t just a cup.
That’s a compliment, right there. Until the human race has reached a point where each and every person has their own star, and can travel to it easily to show their admiration, I don’t want to be called a star. It’s too foreign, too ‘spacey’. Too downright bloody offensive.
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