Primary and secondary school textbooks devote entire chapters to literary devices such as similes, metaphors, and idioms; and they are enlightening for young learners. Such chapters serve their purpose by introducing literary devices as staples for enriching language. However as learners mature they need to wean themselves off the lower levels, and reach higher by creating newer standards. Imagine the following: “The culprit was as fit as a fiddle so though it often rained cats and dogs in the neighbourhood, he burgled residents like a busy bee. No one as sober as a judge could restrain him till one day he was found as dead as mutton, and as poor as a church mouse. A word to the wise is enough for those wolves in sheep’s clothing!” The above sentences are creative in one respect only: they make a mockery of dead metaphors through exaggeration. The message is that an overused simile strung inside an imaginative work may reduce the effort to mediocrity. George Orwell (author of the classics Animal Farm and the futuristic novel 1984) suggested: “Never use a metaphor, simile or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.” Of course, it is apt to revisit a cliché or an old staple, and even use them sometimes; but the very essence of excellence entails innovation: the art of making the old new again. Even a mature writer may sometimes feel nostalgic for an old phrase; but a superior writer may re-tune an old simile to read, say, “as dead as beef”, in preference to the habitual “as dead as mutton”. By the same gesture, in commenting about a scientific innovation (like Microsoft) that rendered old methods and things archaic, “as dead as a typewriter” will be more impacting in that context. In using both the “typewriter” and “beef” as replacements, the word “mutton” - in the regular simile - is conspicuously missing, but the substitutes amply demonstrate a prior knowledge of the overused idiom to the smart reader. So the writer scores on both points - the new and the old. That is the distinct mark of scholarship. The quest is in imaging a suitable metaphor to fit a new idea or occasion. That is what innovation suggests; however, it is not any vagabond innovation that will do but an informed one. Syntax, in its broad inflexions, may be defined as a science of language. Modern usage calls for discrete experimentation and innovations so that language is fresh always, and not half deceased, still born, or irrelevant. Novelty works on the premise that both life and time are in a permanent state of change, so why pin down the mindset? I tend to fit similes or metaphors into two categories: First, those devices that need to be eliminated altogether; and second, those that need a new life. For the first group - the dead weights - these two examples will suffice: “as sober as a judge” and “as poor as a church mouse”. It can be really trying when, on reading a text, one stumbles on the “judge” image. The number of cases piled up in the law courts - collecting dust and rust and stalling the wheels of justice - exhibited much except sobriety. That archaic image is a potent example of a simile that is as dead as a carcass. It can be resurrected, but the “sober” in it has to go. In the next example, poverty and church are simply not synonymous; not these days. Many churches now stand as icons suggesting pastor-preneurs, profit and vogue. The church mouse itself needs to be upgraded a notch above the poverty line. Gone are the ways of St Francis of Assisi, Mother Theresa, and others. Similes governing church and poverty do not reflect the realities on the ground. The second group are the ones ready for change; consider this: In lieu of “wolves in sheep’s clothing” why not “foxes clothed in chicken feathers”? Instead of “as fit as a fiddle”, why not “as fit as Azumah Nelson”? Instead of “it rained cats and dogs” why not “it poured mangoes and oranges”? In lieu of “a word to the wise”, why not “a word to the inept”? The wise hardly need a word; they are self-sufficient; the inept rather need the word and also the help to understand it. “Critical Thinking” courses prevail on the principle that a competent learner - like the nimblest plant and animal species - must respond to external stimuli and adapt or pale off passively into extinction. In exploring the learning environment, and actively participating in it, a learner develops the skills (the cognitive) and confidence (the affective) that assure mastery. As an examiner on “Gates-MacGinitie” students’ essays in the United States, I recall the “Eureka” moments when various African-American, Spanish or “Oriental” coinages débuted, unannounced, in examination papers. Such lucky moments in fresh “melting pot” phraseology excited examiners; they heralded the makings of talented, fresh thinking word-smiths. Latin died a hurried death for not adapting to the demands of modernity. That language was buried for the snobbery in declining to make the old new again. Within the last few decades, new words like “fax”, “google”, “email”, “gigabyte” etc have emerged with unequivocal influence on language and productivity. To “Suarez”, however, is a very new addition; but no team in the 2010 FIFA World Cup detests that verb more than Ghana’s fabulous “Black Stars”, especially Dominic Adiyiah, the header of the ball hand-blocked in the net by Luis Suarez, Uruguay’s striker. For African writers in English, the language, evolving in leaps, offers opportunity to be part of the evolution. Chinua Achebe, for one, was prescient to the hilt, from way back in 1958 with Things Fall Apart. With the novel translated into about fifty different languages, and he himself crowned with over thirty honorary degrees from universities across the world, Achebe’s creative sparks set the literary world blazing. While the Elizabethan playwright, William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616), conjured images of impossible opposites - oxymorons - in Romeo and Juliet, little did both he and the mastermind behind the Holy Bible, King James I of England (1566 - 1625), ever think that “angelic fiend”, “brawling love”, and “cold fire” would reside, neck to neck, with the modern English jargons “Chukwu” and “chi” from Nigeria, or “kwashiorkor” and “kookoo” (cocoa) from Ghana. The English language is a wide open medium, and it supports the world to communicate. In that vein, the enigmatic poet, Ezra Pound (1885 - 1972), comes to mind. He sought “the best that has ever been thought and said in the world”, and experimented to “make it new” for the present day. In his quest “to build a cultural railway” around the globe - starting from Idaho (U.S.) to Peking (China) - he translated literary nuggets from Chinese and Japanese, and from Italian and Greek into English. It is notable that The Economist too, perhaps the best weekly in the English language, updates its idioms often with rap from African-American South Central and Compton (California), wit from reggae, and slang from the “barrios” of the Spanish speaking world, etc. Today, “the world and its mistress” (as F. Scott Fitzgerald phrased it intuitively in The Great Gatsby) are in arms with the English language. The Chinese intend, soon, to sport more English speaking people than any single race ever. There comes the fiery dragon! Whoever thought that one day Henry Ford’s American “Model T” automobile (1909) would evolve into the Japanese “Lexus” and “Infiniti”, or India’s “Tata”? Life is what we make it; but make it fresh, durable, and useful. What is heaven for, if we can’t make it enjoyable and lasting? [ANIS HAFFAR teaches courses in “Leadership”, “Methodologies for Teachers”, and “English Literature”. He is the author of the new book “Leadership: Reflections on some movers, shakers and thinkers”. Email: anishaffar@yahoo.com]