Sunday, December 7, 2008

Analogy Stretcher 2


Sniffles well and truly over, I rise this morning, glad to discover the following gem in my inbox from the awesome Kiersten...


“Like moths to a flame.”

This one is so good it’s hard to avoid using it — especially when you’ve been invited to an insect-themed fancy dress party by Beelzebub himself.

But does it make any sense?

Much as I would like to say “anything goes” on this one, it may be wise to limit our discussions to a subtle fusion of philosophical debate, wine-crazed frippery frenzy and Weissmuller whoop-inspired eurekosis. That way, I can still eat nachos while I’m typing.

12 comments:

McKoala said...

Yup. All that. And an example, perhaps?

Chris Eldin said...

I love creative analogies. I think Dean Koontz is really good at them.

writtenwyrdd said...

I think we should make up new ones. Did you know that many of the ones we use Shakespeare made up? (Or at least was the first person to write them down; but I hear they were new at the time.)

Whirlochre said...

Am I being vague on this one, McKoala? Always a possibility when you have no idea what you're doing, I suppose.

It occurs to me that city moths are more likely to get drawn to light bulbs than flames, and, finding themselves unincinerated, might spend their lives flapping from bedroom to bedroom, night after night, until all their mothly energies are spent. The analogy suggests the moths are drawn by chance, but I wonder if the opportunity-blessed city moths actively seek out lava lamps, or if there is a pecking order for swirling round the glitziest chandeliers?

Whirlochre said...

Hey, WW — if this doesn't work (and it's looking highly likely that it's already on its way to nosediving like a burst speech bubble proclaiming 'bummer') we can always come up with some throat rippers along the lines already suggested in the previous comment trail. To be honest, I'm just trying to avoid blogging about Christmas. And mucus. This is no easy task when the airwaves (in the UK at least) are squealing with Sir Cliff Richard's many festive Number Ones...

Kiersten said...

Alas, Whirl, I know what you're looking for here, I'm just too brain-dead to play right now. All I can think of is moths, bitter about how stupid this particular saying makes them appear. Yeah, sure, they like nothing more than flapping around, looking for open flames in which to fling themselves. Self-immolation is not actually the goal of every moth out there.

Or so I've been told.

JaneyV said...

Like moths to a flame

He was drawn to her in every bad way possible; like four-year-olds to plastic branded crap, like eyes to a gruesome accident full of dismembered bits and like Lepidoptera (Heterocera)'s suicidal attraction for all things illuminated. She was bewitching and once in her power he burned hot, hot ... oooh sizzlin'.


Is that the sort of thing you were envisaging?

I feel strangely grubby now.

Whirlochre said...

To be honest, Janey, I'm not sure what I envisaged with this. But I'm grateful you've squished yourself through the mangle of strange grubbiness to offer up this delightful baby.

While we're on moths (which we are, like dragon riders — only with smaller saddles and more uncontrollable sneezes) I've dug out my old Jethro Tull albums and been hoist, backside first, onto the searing tip of nostalgia by a song of the same name ('moths' — not 'searing tip of nostalgia'. I think that was AC/DC).

Having said that, I now feel strangely grubby too. I must away to feast on a broth of goblin's bile, sucked through a mouldy sock...

blogless troll said...

I don't know about analogies, but I've got moths bouncing all over my front porch lights, and if I step outside they're all over me too, even when I'm not wearing my blinky shoes. I tried distracting them with a flashlight, but that didn't work. But now it occurs to me the solution was there all along, cleverly hidden inside a cliched analogy. I shut off the porch lights and broke out the tiki torches. We'll see if those little bastards live up to their similes. I'll keep you posted.

Whirlochre said...

Thanks BT.

While we're on the subject of artificial light, I'm guessing there are certain planets in the George Lucas cosmos where swinging light sabres around can be a real bind.

sylvia said...

We have repeated infestations of the mediterranean flour moth here - horrible things. And I can tell you that they don't like flames nor light, they hide in the cupboards and drawers. Most annoyingly, they love my chile powder imported from New Mexico. I've just thrown out another batch. :(

So my contribution to this thread is simply: BURN THEM! BURN THEM ALL!

I feel better now.

Whirlochre said...

I remember encountering several freakish moths in Spain, but their bulbous powdery grossness was more than compensated for by the limey scales of numerous gecko/lizards that freaked me out big time.